Semua Bab Signed Sealed and Divorced. The CEO’s biggest regret: Bab 71 - Bab 80

Adrian arrived home later than he intended, the faint ache in his chest matching the dull throb behind his temples. Work had stretched into the evening again, meetings piling one after another until even his coffee had turned bitter in his stomach.The house was unusually quiet. No Alina humming songs with her nanny, no rustle of grocery bags, no chatter floating in from the kitchen. The silence sat heavy, pressing against his shoulders as he loosened his tie and stepped deeper into the living room.That’s when he spotted Leo.The boy was curled into one end of the sofa, legs tucked beneath him, a book so large it looked absurd balanced on his knees. His lips moved soundlessly as he read, brows furrowed in concentration. The lamplight painted his small face in warm amber, and Adrian had to pause.Barely four years old. Still soft-cheeked, still round-eyed. And yet — this wasn’t the book of a child.Adrian crossed the room slowly and lowered himself onto the armrest. He tilted his head

The phone in Leo’s palm felt unnaturally warm, as if it were a live coal he could drop if the truth inside grew too heavy. He counted breaths, slow and precise, the way he always did when something that had been only an idea hardened into motion. Outside his penthouse, the city hummed with its usual indifferent life—taxis like ants, late commuters, the distant thrum of a train—but the world had narrowed to the voice on the other end and the single line of text that would either open a door or slam it forever.“Did you send it?” he asked, not bothering with preface.There was a pause, a little static of background noise—he imagined his assistant straightening papers, checking screens—and then the clipped, professional reply he’d trained himself to expect from people he’d hired to be discrete.“Yes. Dr. Harrington’s header, full thread. I scrubbed the metadata. It looks authentic. It came through from an account that matches Adrian Hawthorne’s correspondence history.” The assistant’s v

The apartment felt heavier when Sienna stepped inside, like the walls had soaked up her unease and were pressing it back into her. She closed the door quietly, as though silence might keep the storm in her chest from spilling over. Her heels clicked faintly against the hardwood before she slipped them off, standing barefoot, her arms wrapped around herself. She hadn’t meant to stay so long at Leo’s. She told herself it was out of courtesy, a sense of pity for the man who had lost so much—Annatoria’s sudden “death,” the grief in his voice, the vulnerability he had shown. But pity didn’t explain the way her thoughts looped back to him now. His eyes. His words. His careful timing. Her gaze drifted to the file still on her phone. She didn’t need to open it again. She had memorized the key words the first time and all of it pointed to medical fraud, staged symptoms, prescriptions that didn’t add up. Adrian’s name threaded through it all like a poison. She poured herself a glass of wate

The bread sat untouched between them. Chloe’s hands kept fidgeting with the napkin, twisting it tighter and tighter as though she could squeeze her panic into threads. The low hum of the restaurant pressed in from every corner—the quiet clink of glasses, the soft murmur of conversations, the occasional burst of laughter. But at this table, silence ruled.Leo didn’t break it. He let it stretch, long and suffocating, his gaze steady on Chloe as if peeling her apart layer by layer. He wasn’t in a hurry. He knew the pressure of his eyes, the weight of his stillness, would do more than words ever could.Chloe finally spoke, her voice so thin it almost disappeared under the music floating from the piano in the corner.“I… I didn’t mean to see it. I didn’t mean to hear anything. I was only doing my job.”Leo didn’t respond. He simply shifted the glass of wine between his fingers, swirling the liquid slowly, his reflection breaking and reforming with every movement.Chloe’s throat bobbed as s

Leo’s arms lingered around her longer than they should have. At the curb outside her estate, he held her in a quiet embrace, murmuring, “Thank you again, for standing by me. I’ll never forget today.”Sienna’s body was rigid, but she forced herself to hug him back, out of politeness, out of courtesy. She believed he was hurting and this was the best way to be his friend. This was what he needed at the moment and it would be inconsiderate to deprive him of a simple hug. When he finally stepped away, his eyes shimmered with a grief that felt rehearsed but convincing enough to make her guilt twist.“You’ll be okay?” she asked softly, her voice carrying both distance and care.His smile was faint, practiced. “I have to be.”She watched him drive away, the hum of his engine fading into the night. Inside, the house was still. Too still. She climbed the stairs, heels echoing in the quiet hall, and slipped into her room. For a moment she sat on the edge of her bed, her breath uneven.The firs