All Chapters of The CEO’s Temptation : Chapter 261 - Chapter 270

****************************Laura's POV*********************** I always thought grief would dull with years, that the edges would soften the way rocks smoothed under restless water. But some griefs were jagged by nature. No matter how much time passed, I could still cut myself on the memory of my daughter. That evening, the hotel felt far too alive for the heaviness in my chest. The staff moved gracefully through the halls, the hum of Agyis Hotel’s grand opening still lingering in the air, and yet I found myself seated in one of the quieter lounges, staring at a half-finished cup of tea that had gone cold. I wasn’t waiting for anyone, not exactly, though I knew Henry would find me. He always did. The door opened, and sure enough, there he was. His tall frame filled the doorway, his expression carved with that same quiet authority he carried everywhere. Yet tonight, I caught the weariness beneath it, the lines deepened around his eyes. We had shared decades of life, loyalty, and los

***********************************Claire's **************************Claire’sPOV**************************** The night inside Agyis Hotel carried a strange hush, like the walls themselves understood that none of us were ready to speak too loud, to break the fragile calm after days of storms. I had never seen Mack like this before—so composed on the surface, so carefully gathered, yet I could feel the weight pressing on him, heavier than the bandages still binding his side. It wasn’t the pain of healing wounds that tightened his jaw. It was something older, something far more brutal. England. The word itself had shifted the air in the room the moment it slipped from Laura’s lips. She had been gentle, maternal even, but I caught the tremor in her voice. It wasn’t a suggestion; it was a reckoning. Mack hadn’t protested. He hadn’t lashed out or raised his voice. He’d only gone quiet, a silence that felt like an ocean swallowing him whole. Now, as I sat curled on the edge of the hotel

*********************************Liz's POV************************ I hadn’t expected the quiet to feel this loud. For days it had been nothing but war rooms, screens flashing with satellite feeds, radios buzzing with updates, voices overlapping in a constant hum of strategy and worry. And then, suddenly, here in the Agyis Hotel, silence. Not absolute silence—there was still the faint sound of water pipes groaning somewhere behind the walls, the low murmur of guards stationed in the hallway—but compared to the chaos, it felt like stepping into another world. Claire sat across from me on the small sofa, legs tucked beneath her, a blanket draped loosely around her shoulders. She looked smaller than I remembered—fragile, almost, though there was a sharpness in her eyes that said otherwise. It struck me then, like it always did when I let myself really look at her: she wasn’t just the girl we were all trying to save. She was my friend, my anchor, even if I had failed her in more ways th

**********************************Mack's POV ********************* The wheels of the jet touched down with a low shudder that vibrated through the cabin floor. England. My country. My soil. Yet as the familiar misted skyline rolled past the window, it didn’t feel like home. Not anymore. The word had long since lost its warmth and been replaced with something heavier, something sharper. Claire’s hand found mine as the plane slowed on the runway, her fingers warm against my own cold ones. She didn’t speak at first, just squeezed, as though she knew words would splinter if they came too early. I stared at our hands, at the way hers looked so small in mine, and for the briefest second, I let myself breathe. We were almost there. The others had already begun stirring in the cabin, gathering their things, murmuring in low voices. But Claire and I remained seated. I couldn’t move yet. My stomach twisted, half dread and half anticipation. The estate was waiting for me, with its ghosts and

*******************************Liz’s POV**********************I had expected the guest wing to feel cold, maybe distant, like the kind of place you put people you didn’t know well enough to let into the heart of a home. But the moment Rowe pushed open the door, I realized how wrong I was. The room was warm, golden light spilling across cream walls and polished wood floors. A king-sized bed sat at the center, dressed in crisp linen, and French doors led out to a small balcony that overlooked the gardens. It felt less like a guest space and more like some secret corner meant only for us.Rowe tossed his bag down by the dresser and leaned against the doorframe, watching me. His gaze wasn’t casual. It was heavy, searching, like he was trying to read all the words I wasn’t saying. My pulse stuttered beneath the weight of it, and I busied myself by setting my jacket over the armchair. “This place doesn’t even feel real,” I said, mostly to fill the silence.“Neither do you,” he replied.I f