Todos los capítulos de Abandoned by Ex, Married to His CEO Brother: Capítulo 331 - Capítulo 340

Marceline I masked my annoyance at her defiant words with a sneer. “Look at how you now have the guts to speak to me like this. Is this how you talk because you think you have Alexander?” I arched a brow, folding my arms. “Don’t fool yourself into thinking you're special. All men are the same. They’ll belittle you, ignore you, and mistreat you, no matter how much you give.”She rolled her eyes at me, but I continued before she could interrupt. I wanted the words to take root and fester. “You might think you’re irreplaceable to a man. You think you're at the top of the world because you're with Alexander. But that only lasts when you’re young, when you’re still attractive, still supple. When you can play the part of arm candy and boost his ego by making the other men jealous.”I stepped closer until my shadow brushed hers. Deliberately, I lifted a finger and slowly traced the soft skin of her cheek. She did not recoil, but I felt the tension in her jaw. “But men will always chase the

Marceline**Warning! This chapter contains scenes of violence! Viewers' discretion is advised!**For a fleeting second, my mind tried to grasp what she meant, even as a relief filled me at the knowledge that I was safe. Abigail wouldn't do anything to me. She had always been too soft. She had been too soft to stand up to Susanna then, and she was still too soft to back up any of her wrathful words with action now.The wind caught the edges of her gown as she turned and walked away, and for a fleeting moment, I thought she looked like some tragic heroine out of a gothic novel, her figure swallowed by the mist surrounding Ravenbrook's lake the farther she walked. Her words still clung to me like poison, and though I wanted to shout after her and ask her where the hell she thought she was going, I realized she had left me with Liam, on purpose. He took a menacing step forward, his intent to harm clear from his face. Abigail’s hatred had been a wound that was deep but resigned, her voic

Marceline I stared at the phone in my hands, this fragile lifeline tossed my way, and tried to force my mind into order. One call was already wasted. Casillas hadn’t picked up, and I needed to make the two calls I had left count. I forced myself to think of Bonafide, of my men there and my network. Surely, even if Conrad had taken over, there had to be someone still loyal to me, someone who could get me out of this before I found out the painful way what the rest of Liam’s plan for me was. I scoured through the names in my head like a gambler rifling through their last chips. Faces swam before me: too many faces of men who had probably already bent to Conrad, men who would hesitate, men who might even betray me. But then one name surfaced: Hugo. Big, steady, simple Hugo. He was a man I had taken into Bonafide’s fold years ago, someone who had never once questioned me. If there was even a sliver of loyalty left among my people, it would be in him. My hands shook as I typed

Conrad As the lake house came into view, I adjusted my jacket and glanced at the men beside me. Two of them, Jackie and Sylvester, followed me while the rest waited by the car. I turned to Jackie, who was trailing a step behind me. “Don’t forget the basket of food,” I reminded him, my tone sharp. Jackie gave a stiff nod. “Got it, sir.” We reached the porch, the wooden boards groaning faintly under our weight. My hand curled into a fist and rapped against the door. I pitched my voice warm, casual. “Mother? It’s Conrad.” Silence was my answer. I frowned and knocked again, a little harder this time. “Mother?” Still nothing. A sliver of unease threaded its way down my spine. That was odd. She should have answered by now. I should have heard her footsteps trudging to the door… unless she was asleep. That was possible. But in her current state, keyed up and restless, would Mother really have managed to nap? I doubted it. I pressed my ear against the door, listening for movement. T

Abigail The gravel crunched softly under my shoes as I put distance between myself and the place where I had left Marceline with Liam. Each step felt hurried, like if I slowed down even a fraction, the weight of this meeting would crash down on me all at once. I forced myself not to think about what would happen next.Marceline was no saint. This was a truth that I undeniably knew. It had been carved into me by her countless acts of manipulation, cruelty, and carefully dressed violence. Leaving her unharmed and breathing when she had been right there, helpless, in my grasp, had not been easy. It had taken everything in me not to finish it. Not to close my fingers around her throat and squeeze until the world went quiet.But I wasn’t her, I didn't do what she did, and that mattered to me. I had said it out loud to her, and I repeated it silently now, like a mantra. I was not Marceline. I would not stoop to her level. I would not coat my hands with blood just because the temptation w