Todos os capítulos de The CEO'S SECRET BRIDE : Capítulo 61 - Capítulo 70

Fred turned the ignition key. With a steady low purr that filled the night's silence the engine roared to life. He shifted into reverse and backed out of the long immaculate driveway slowly. In his rearview mirror, the mansion, a symbol of riches and authority, grew smaller. With the streetlights fading into specks of light, he turned left onto the main road.Even though the city was asleep, his mind was racing with ideas and feelings. He made an effort to concentrate on the road, the well-known curves and the deserted streets. However, his mind kept returning to her. He remembered her standing in front of the car, her face lit by the porch light, a look of resolve replacing the tears. He remembered her in Carson's arms, her head resting on his chest and her hands encircling his waist. There was a tiny unwanted stab of jealousy that he felt. Deep inside, he pushed it down and stored everything he didn't want to feel. He had to be her friend. Just that. The silence in the car was d

“I… want to go with you.” Annabel said, her voice piercing the quiet tension with a gentle confident murmur. Carson's face lit up with relief. With a firm comforting squeeze he assured her of his support. “Are you sure?We can do this tomorrow.” She straightened her back and said “No.This is what we'll do now. We'll work together on it.”He didn't dispute. For the first time in a long time he just smiled, a sincere appreciative smile. They turned away from the opulent entrance hall and started to walk after exchanging glances and making a silent pledge of support. Their slow, rhythmic footsteps reverberated on the marble as they got closer to the library. The woman who had caused so much of their past suffering was getting closer to them with every step. The library was a large quiet room. The double doors were open allowing a small amount of warm buttery light to enter the foyer. They pushed them open.The smell of old paper and polished wood filled the air making it feel heavy.

The car arrived at a tall glass monolith that cut through the skyline of the city. It was chilly and gray, a stronghold of business and a tribute to the family name Carson’s lungs were sharply shocked by the crisp autumn air as he stepped outside. He felt his shoulders tighten beneath the fitted suit Victoria had insisted he wear as the sun reflected off the polished asphalt. Although it was a second skin and fit perfectly it felt confining. Victoria moved smoothly out of the back seat, her motions precise and well-honed. There was a grin already there as smooth as the structure. Her eyes glowed with an almost predatory delight as she turned to face him. “Welcome to your future, son.” She said in a low purr. He forced a feeble smile. “Make sure your tie is straight. Some very significant people are going to meet you soon.” She told him.The lobby was a steel and marble cathedral inside. The silent productive energy of hundreds of people moving with purpose filled the air. With

With a sigh of hope, Annabel grabbed the doorknob. Her thoughts had been filled with the image of Carson possibly home early, his smile a warm counterbalance to the chill of the day because the knock had been so subtle and purposeful. A glimmer of happiness ignited in her chest as her fingers encircled the chilly brass. With a gentle click that reverberated throughout the quiet hallway she yanked the heavy door open. Her heart sank. It wasn't Carson. Standing in the doorway was a woman whose presence was as stiff and uncompromising as the tall oak trees that bordered the drive. Her uniform, a plain black dress with a white apron tied at the waist exuded authority and a lack of individuality. Her eyes were a cool steady gray that was neither warm nor welcoming and her face was a mask of courteous indifference. She wasn't smiling . She was not required to. Her chin level and shoulders back stance spoke for her. She had a silver tray in her hands and one folded napkin on it. The c

A final stop to the day's tiring drama was the bedroom door clicking shut. Annabel was lying under the silk comforter like a still figure. Her body tensed with a quiet simmering tension and she continued to squeeze her eyes tightly. On the dresser she heard a jacket being peeled off and the gentle clink of keys striking a wooden dish. As he approached, the air in the room changed still heavy with the smell of Carson's day—old leather paper and a hint of cologne. On the bed's edge a warm weight fell. She sensed the mattress dip and the slight temperature change. As he leaned over his soft recognizable breath drifted across her face. His voice was a low murmur, more of a question than an order “Annabel?” She didn't move. Like a statue, her breathing stayed steady and practiced. Behind her closed eyelids hot treacherous tears poured. She felt their prickle and the pain of containing them but one of them managed to get away and followed a silent blazing trail down her temple and int