The CEO'S SECRET BRIDE のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 151 - チャプター 160

Carson’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as the car sped down the empty road. The night wind tore through the half-open window, stinging his face, but he didn’t care. His heart pounded against his ribs like a drum, fast and wild. The echo of voices, gasps, and whispers from the ballroom still rang in his ears. He could still see Bridget’s face—frozen, disbelieving—as he walked away.He pressed harder on the accelerator. The headlights cut through the darkness like knives. The road stretched endlessly ahead, but he didn’t know where he was going. He only knew he couldn’t stay there, not another second.His phone buzzed on the seat beside him, lighting up again and again. Victoria. Bridget. Unknown Number. He ignored them all. The thought of hearing his mother’s sharp voice made his stomach twist. He had spent his entire life obeying her—being the perfect son, the perfect fiancé, the perfect man she wanted. But tonight, he had snapped the chains.The roar of the engine filled

The news spread faster than anyone could have imagined. By evening, every social circle, news outlet, and gossip blog in the city was buzzing with one story — the abandoned wedding of Carson and Bridget. The once-celebrated union between two powerful families had turned into the biggest scandal of the year.Victoria sat rigidly on the edge of her grand sofa, her perfectly manicured fingers trembling around a half-empty glass of wine. The mansion was silent except for the sound of her sharp breathing. Her eyes were red with fury, not from tears, but from humiliation. The whispers, the pitiful looks from guests, the photographs of Bridget standing alone at the altar — it was all playing again and again in her mind like a cruel loop.“How could he do this?” she muttered, her voice low and bitter. “How could my own son disgrace me in front of everyone?” she said, clenching her jaw tightly.Her assistant, Helen, stood near the door, too frightened to move or speak. She had worked for Vic

Fred sat on the edge of his small couch, staring at the flickering light from the television. The sound was low, almost a whisper, but he wasn’t really watching. His thoughts were far away — lost somewhere between worry and hope. The cup of coffee in his hand had already gone cold. He hadn’t even noticed.The news of Carson’s return had reached him two days ago. At first, he didn’t believe it. He thought Carson was gone for good — the man who had once broken Anabelle’s heart and left her to rebuild herself from nothing. But now, knowing he was back, Fred felt something heavy inside his chest. Not anger. Not jealousy. Just a quiet ache he couldn’t explain.He leaned forward, rubbing his palms together slowly. “He’s back,” he murmured to himself. “And she’s strong now... stronger than before.”He looked around his apartment — small, neat, and quiet. The kind of place where silence echoed too loudly. The walls were lined with sketches and notes, ideas he never finished. He sighed and

The afternoon sun was bright, casting a golden glow over the front yard of Anabelle’s mansion. The air smelled of freshly cut grass, and the fountain near the gate made a gentle, calming sound. Inside the house, Anabelle was arranging flowers in a tall glass vase, humming softly to herself. Her morning had been peaceful, filled with work calls, a light lunch, and laughter from the small group of students she mentored part-time.She stood back to admire her work, smiling faintly. The lilies looked perfect against the white marble table. Everything felt calm—until the doorbell rang.It was a firm, continuous sound.Anabelle frowned slightly. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Jude was out of town, Fred had texted earlier saying he was working late, and no deliveries were scheduled. She wiped her hands on a towel and walked toward the door.When she opened it, her body froze.Standing there was Carson.He looked different — thinner, older, tired. His suit was wrinkled, his eyes bloodshot, hi

Anabelle sat on the couch, her hands clasped tightly together. The room was quiet except for the sound of rain tapping against the window. Carson’s words still echoed in her mind, soft but heavy. Even though she had stood firm, a part of her heart felt shaken.She stared at her phone on the table. After a long moment, she picked it up and scrolled through her contacts. Her finger hovered over Fred’s name. She hesitated, then pressed “call.”The phone rang twice before his calm voice came through. “Anabelle?” he said.“Fred,” she said softly. Her voice trembled more than she wanted it to.“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately.She took a slow breath. “Can you come over?” she asked quietly. “Please.”“I’ll be there,” he said without hesitation.She hung up and sat there, staring at the rain. Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door. She stood and walked over, her bare feet silent against the wooden floor.When she opened the door, Fred was standing there, a dark jacket clinging