All Chapters of The CEO'S SECRET BRIDE : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

The streetlights were yellow and the road was long and deserted. With the engine humming softly like a weary voice Carson’s car glided through the silent streets. His jaw was locked and his hands were firmly gripping the steering wheel. He kept replaying the argument he had with his mother. He let out a breath through his teeth. As he drove he could not make out the city lights. He had no idea where he was heading. All he knew was that he needed to leave—from the house from the oppressive silence and from everything that made his chest feel too constricted. He made several turns before coming to a stop in front of a tiny bar nestled between two historic structures. The Docklight was written in a weakly flickering blue neon sign. After parking he took a seat and gazed at his image in the rearview mirror for a considerable amount of time. His eyes appeared older and more worn out than they should have. At last he emerged and made his way to the door. There was a slight smoke and

The sun was already bright when Fred woke up. The light slipped through the curtains and touched his face. He groaned softly and turned over, his hair messy and his eyes still half closed. The alarm clock on the bedside table showed ten o’clock.He sat up slowly, rubbing his face with both hands. “Ten already,” he said. He had overslept again. The blanket slid off him as he got up. He was still in his pajamas—soft gray ones that looked wrinkled from the night.When he stepped out of the bedroom, a faint smell reached him. Something warm, something like eggs and toast. His stomach growled. He followed the smell to the kitchen.The sight there made him stop at the doorway.Anabelle was standing by the stove wearing one of his shirts—it was too big for her and hung loosely on her shoulders. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she was humming softly to herself. The pan hissed as she turned the eggs with a wooden spoon.Fred leaned on the door frame, smiling faintly. “So this is

When Anabelle got out of the taxi the city was already awake. The air smelled like coffee and automobile smoke and the morning sun shone dimly between tall glass buildings. With her laptop bag in hand she rushed to the office doors. The elevator inside dinged softly and she pushed the twelfth floor button. She had weary eyes and resolute lips when she reflected in the metal doors. She sighed softly and brushed a flyaway hair out of her face. The office greeted her with the low chatter of voices and the hum of computers as the doors opened. The central air conditioning made the air feel cool and the large windows let in golden light. “Good morning, Anabelle,” a colleague called. “Good morning Leo.” She replied Smiling, she set her bag down and walked to her desk. A steaming mug of coffee papers and sticky notes were waiting for her. She took a seat, turned on her laptop and started typing. Her fingers were moving quickly as her eyes scanned the screens data. She was working on

The mansion's large windows let in the morning sun which splattered golden light on the marble floors. Everything glistened including the silver-framed pictures, the chandeliers and the glass tables. Carson felt nothing even though everything appeared to be perfect. Bridget stood by the mirror across the room fiddling with a diamond earring. Like it was admiring itself, her reflection grinned back at her. She held a perfume bottle in one hand while wearing a pale gold silk robe. “How do I look?” she asked “You always look good.”He remarkedShe pivoted her heels making a faint clicking sound on the ground. “Not just good. Be truthful. Am I beautiful?” she inquired. “Yes. You look fantastic.”He said softlyShe smiled happily with the response. “I was expecting that,” she remarked. Carson sipped his coffee while keeping his eyes averted. “What’s going on today?” He asked “A club brunch” she remarked. “The wedding dress fittings will come next. Maybe shopping after that.”“Are

Through the living room’s tall windows the afternoon sun reached the golden edges of the curtains. Although everything appeared to be serene and ideal there was a heavy silence between Bridget and Carson. She was adjusting her earrings by the mirror while he sat on the couch and gazed at the stack of bills on the glass table. In a tight but low voice Carson questioned “You spent this much on one dress?”“Carson, it's not just a dress.” She explained, “It is for the engagement dinner.” He read the numbers again after lifting one of the receipts. “Bridget, five thousand dollars. For a single evening” he stated. “You make it seem like I'm wasting money.” she muttered “That’s because you are,” he said. With a sudden turn her eyes flashed. “You’re being dramatic.” she said “Dramatic?” he inquired. “Bridget, we've talked about this before. You said you would slow down.”“I did slow down.” she said He chuckled a little without a joke. He questioned “You call this slowing down?” S