All Chapters of The CEO’s Vengeful Bride: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

ElenaThe cuffs came off, but the chains didn’t. Not really. My heels clicked against the marble floor of the courthouse, a hollow rhythm echoing beneath the glares of journalists packed behind velvet ropes. Flashbulbs exploded like tiny landmines. Questions clawed through the air.“Elena Montrose, did you embezzle millions through Evexia shell companies?” “Are you the real leader of the Shadow Syndicate?” “Were you always just your father’s puppet or his heir?” I didn’t answer. I didn’t even blink. Not as security parted the crowd. Not when a woman holding her toddler spit at the ground in front of me. And not when the DA hissed behind me, “Next time, bail won’t be an option.” I stepped into the black car idling at the curb. Inside, the air smelled of sterilized leather and controlled power. A man in a charcoal suit sat across from me, face hidden behind mirrored glasses. “Elena Montrose,” he said flatly. “You’re free. For now. Don’t make me regret it.” “You work for the S

Damien The box opened with a click that felt louder than thunder in the silence. Inside, neatly arranged and preserved in vacuum-sealed folders, were documents—dozens of them - wrapped in Montrose crimson and sealed with wax bearing Richard’s ring insignia. Crest and Montrose. Intertwined like the serpents they truly were. A second, smaller envelope rested atop the files.My fingers hesitated before I picked it up. “To my daughter, Elena Crest Montrose,” it read. No ‘with love.’ No ‘I’m sorry.’ Just a name. A title. A brand. I slipped the letter into my coat and turned on the flashlight app on my phone. I started to scan through the documents. It took only minutes to understand the truth. Richard Crest hadn’t just adopted Elena. He’d designed her. Blueprints of bloodlines, medical reports, fertility logs – clinical, heartless, exact. All orchestrated to produce the “perfect heir” to unite two underworld empires. The Montrose' supplied the legacy. The Crests supplied the cover

The air inside the underground chamber was colder than Elena expected – like stepping into the bones of a long-dead beast. The passage Victor had taken her through had no markers, no light, just the echo of their footsteps and the steady drip of groundwater trickling through the ancient stone. It was beneath one of the oldest Montrose properties, a crumbling vineyard that hadn’t seen wine in over a century. Victor paused before a reinforced steel door, tapping a biometric scanner hidden behind a loose stone tile. It clicked with a mechanical groan; sliding open to reveal what looked like a private tech lab carved into bedrock. Rows of old-school servers hummed softly, and holographic files floated midair, projected from antique-looking terminals that masked cutting-edge tech. The room pulsed with secrets. Victor gestured toward the glowing files. “This is what they never wanted you to see.” Elena stepped forward, pulse quickening as she scanned the data streams. Project folders labe

The high council chamber of the Syndicate was colder than usual, both in temperature and in tone.Elena stood at the center of the room, bathed in the dim glow of surveillance feeds and data streams cascading down the transparent walls. The table before her – oval, steel, and long enough to seat titans – was surrounded by the remaining Elders, veiled behind veils of projected anonymity. Their faces were blurred, their voices processed, but she could still feel the weight of their scrutiny.Her father used to stand here, commanding silence without raising his voice. But he was gone. And in his place stood his daughter, dressed in midnight black, her fingers still smeared with the blood of betrayal.She had summoned them. Not as a subordinate. Not even as a peer.As their sovereign.“Senior Agent Calver was terminated,” she began, pacing slowly in front of them, boots echoing on the steel floor. “For treason. He sold fragments of our quantum encryption matrix to the Xiraxi faction of the

The blood on Damien's hands wasn’t all hers – but it felt like it.He gritted his teeth, his shirt soaked with rain and Elena’s blood as he cradled her in his arms, stumbling through the dense woods outside the Syndicate compound. The world around him was blurred with rage and panic. Behind him, flames licked the sky – the remains of an explosive escape he hadn’t planned, just reacted to.Isabelle trailed close, her face pale but determined, covering their rear. "This way! The car is two clicks north. Hurry, Damien!"Elena's body was limp. Her skin was too pale. With every step Damien took, he cursed himself.He should've seen the betrayal coming.He should've been there.He should've never let her fight alone.When they reached the car, Isabelle flung the back door open. Damien eased Elena into the back seat, stripping off his coat and pressing it hard against the gunshot wound near her ribs. She winced faintly.She's alive. She's still fighting.Damien climbed in, shouting to Isabel