Semua Bab Exchanged Marriage：the CEO's two-faced wife: Bab 21 - Bab 30

Seraphina’s POVI never replied to Everett's words that day.The weight of his statement still lingered in my mind, a quiet, pressing thought I couldn't shake. Deception wasn’t in my nature, and the idea of handing someone a blank check without limits felt foreign—dangerous, even. But there was no time to dwell on that now.The exhibition was set to proceed as scheduled in a week, and every moment leading up to it was consumed with relentless planning and coordination. The venue buzzed with controlled chaos—assistants moving swiftly, double-checking arrangements, the hum of conversations blending into the occasional clatter of setting up displays. I moved through it all with purpose, ensuring every detail was perfected. My heels clicked against the marble floor as I strode past the booths, my deep emerald dress flowing behind me, the structured cut emphasizing my tall, poised frame. My dark hair was pinned back into a sleek twist, a few loose strands framing my face, which I knew look

Seraphina’s POV The words were a shot fired across polished marble and glass, sharp enough to pierce the ambient hum of champagne flutes and polite chatter.For half a second, I wondered if I imagined it.But no—eyes turned, all at once, toward me on the stage. Conversations stuttered. Gasps echoed like scattered pearls across the gallery hall.My blood stilled.The lights of the media cameras swiveled toward my face, catching the glint of tension in my eyes. The man who had shouted was nowhere in sight. I scanned the crowd quickly, but he’d vanished—slipped into the sea of designer tuxedos and glittering gowns like he’d never been there at all.Planted.Deliberate.My gaze snapped toward my team, stationed off-stage near the CHIHIRO booth—pristine white panels with our signature blush gold logo shining under soft illumination. I caught Mira’s eyes—our studio manager—and gave her the smallest of nods.Without needing another word, she understood. She whispered something to the neares

Seraphina’s POVI hadn’t slept.My phone buzzed with unanswered calls. Notifications stacked like a digital scream. Media outlets wanted statements. Answers about the incident. About my relation with Dante. Gossip blogs were already feeding off the scent of scandal. One article speculated a "secret rivalry" between CHIHIRO and Vanya. Another questioned my loyalty to the brand I had built from scratch.All because of a single shout in the dark.And the incident.And Dante.His face had burned itself into the back of my eyes the moment he caught the falling rig. The moment he looked at me like I was a ghost.Calliope.I could still hear the name on his lips.Wrong name. Wrong woman. But the right pain.Everett had driven me home in silence. He hadn’t pried. He never did. He sat beside me like a monument to patience, though I could feel the turmoil in him with every glance he stole. He loved me. He had always loved me, quietly, devotedly. And I—I couldn’t give him anything more than fr

Seraphina’s POVThe sky outside my office window churned with storm clouds, a mirror to the chaos brewing in my chest. The file from Vanya’s security team still lay open on the glass table in front of me, the grainy photo of Owen—the man from Calliope’s past—burning into my memory like a curse.I shut the folder and drew in a breath, pressing my palms flat against the cool surface of the table. My company couldn’t see this unravel me. CHIHIRO had fought too hard to rise. I couldn’t let scandal pollute the fragrance we’d spent years perfecting. I couldn’t let anyone know that my own bloodline was poisoning the roots.So I stood, spine straight, chin high, and walked out to the production floor.“Postpone the press release,” I told Mira, my head of communications. “We’re revising our statement.”She blinked, surprised. “Is something wrong?”“No,” I said, too quickly. “Just perfectionism.”The lie tasted bitter, but it did the job.Back in my office, Dante waited. He stood by the window

Dante’s POVCalliope's perfume still lingered in the hallway long after she slammed the door shut behind her.She was always dramatic like that. Storming in like she owned the place. Drenched in desperation and Chanel No. 5. Dressed to seduce, lying through perfectly red-painted lips.But this time, I didn’t flinch. This time, I saw her clearly—too clearly.I closed the door quietly behind her and leaned against it, exhaling a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.The silence in the penthouse was deafening.I walked over to the minibar and poured myself a drink—neat bourbon. The sting felt earned.Drusen. That bastard. The minute my legal team uncovered his connection to the tampering of CHIHIRO’s rig, I knew there was more rot buried underneath the surface. And surprise—he wasn’t just involved. He was the damn architect.An illegitimate Laurent. He wore the name like armor, but he was never cut from the same cloth. He clawed his way into the company with fake smiles and boardroom s