All Chapters of The CEO’s Temptation : Chapter 251 - Chapter 259

*******************************(POV: Henry)********************** The rain had been falling all night, a fine, needling drizzle that left the streets gleaming like old oil. From my office window, the city looked washed-out and tired—thin ribbons of headlights dragging themselves through the wet. It was the kind of weather that makes people lock their doors early and keep their voices low. I should’ve gone home hours ago. But home felt like a hollow word lately. The air there was too clean, too still. My son’s absence carved a space in it that no amount of silence could disguise. Eve’s file sat open on my desk. Her name, her face, those neat columns of dates and reports—it was all there, yet it felt like staring at a locked box without a key. Mack had already been here earlier in the day, his jaw set like he’d carved it from stone, saying all the right words: he’d protect her, keep her out of the crosshairs. I’d heard him, and I believed him—up to a point. Because in our worl

****************************Mack's POV*************************** The first thing I felt was weight. Not the kind that crushed you — though my chest burned in a way that suggested it had — but the kind that pulled you up from the bottom of dark water. The weight of air, the weight of life, pressing against my ribs as I dragged in a ragged breath. Something warm was curled around my hand. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if it was real or a dream. My eyelids felt glued shut, and the effort to open them was like trying to lift concrete. Then I heard her voice. “Mack?” It was the smallest whisper, but it hit me like a siren. I forced my eyes open. The harsh white of the ceiling swam into focus first, then the shadow that leaned over me. Claire. Her hair was pulled back loosely, like she hadn’t cared enough to tame it, and her face… God. She looked tired in a way I’d never seen. Not the usual exhaustion that came from sleepless nights, but the kind that came from carrying too much fear

*****************************Liz’s POV*************************** I didn’t realize how loud the hospital could be until I tried to listen for my own thoughts. The muted beeps from monitors in the rooms down the hall. The soft, clipped conversations between nurses at the station. The rolling squeak of a supply cart’s wheels. And underneath it all—the constant thud of my own heartbeat. It wasn’t fear anymore. Not the kind that had been strangling me for weeks, the icy grip of uncertainty over Claire’s safety. That nightmare was over. Claire was safe. The people who had wanted to harm her were either locked away or dealt with, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there wasn’t some shadow creeping up behind us. But now… it was Mack. The image wouldn’t leave my mind—him stepping in front of that bullet like it was nothing, like the weight of the world was his to bear alone. It was heroism, yes. But it was also infuriating. How could someone care so little about th

--- *****************************(Claire’s POV)************************ The room was quiet, too quiet for a heart that had grown used to chaos. For days, my pulse had lived in survival mode—every breath sharp, every sound magnified, every shadow a possible threat. Now, the only rhythm was the soft hum of the hospital’s air conditioner and the gentle beeping of the monitors that kept time with Mack’s heart. For the first time in what felt like forever, I could breathe. I sat curled in the corner of the sofa bed they had dragged in for me, still in the same loose sweater someone had insisted I wear when exhaustion refused to let me argue. My hair fell limp around my face, strands unwashed and uncombed, but no one here cared about appearances. All that mattered was the man lying in the bed across from me. Mack. The last twenty-four hours had changed everything. He was awake. He was here. He had survived. The moment his eyes had opened, something in me had cracked wide open. I didn

*****************************Mack’s POV************************* The silence of the hotel room was the kind that hummed with unspoken truths. The steady rhythm of the air conditioner, the faint echo of traffic from the street below, and the muted tick of the wall clock created a backdrop for the kind of stillness that carried weight. I was sitting propped against the headboard, a blanket pulled loosely across my lap, watching Claire. She sat in the armchair by the window, her knees tucked up under her chin, her hair spilling over her shoulders. The moonlight slipped through the curtains, casting her in shades of silver and shadow. She looked peaceful—yet not. Her gaze was far away, anchored somewhere I couldn’t reach unless she allowed me in. And I knew I wanted to be let in, fully this time. I cleared my throat softly. “Are you ever going to stop staring out the window and talk to me?” Her head snapped toward me, her lips twitching with a ghost of a smile. “I wasn’t staring