บททั้งหมดของ Married To My Enemy's Son: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

The morning after my sham of a wedding dawned with golden sunlight streaming through diamond-paned windows. A soft knock echoed through the suite just as I zipped up my dress—a sleek emerald green number I hadn’t picked myself. Nothing in this new life was mine. Not the house. Not the clothes. And certainly not the man whose name now followed mine.“Breakfast is served in the East Conservatory, ma’am,” a maid said with a curtsy. Her eyes avoided mine, trained to be obedient.I nodded stiffly, brushing past her.I found Adrian already seated at a long glass table, flipping through the New York Times like it was just another Tuesday. Not the morning after our wedding. Not the first day of our very public union.He didn’t even look up.“You’re late.”“Good morning to you too,” I muttered, sliding into a chair at the opposite end.A butler poured me coffee. I didn’t thank him. My stomach churned. The air between Adrian and me was thick with tension, and even the chirping of the birds in t

The night was thick with tension. Rain beat down against the mansion's tall windows, each drop a drumbeat of doom. I stood by the curtain, barely breathing as the black SUVs idled outside. Men in dark suits moved like phantoms, spreading out across the front lawn with military precision.Adrian shoved a pistol into the back waistband of his pants. "Upstairs. Now."My legs moved before my brain caught up. I sprinted up the marble staircase, my heart racing, the sound of my footsteps drowned by the sudden roar of thunder. Behind me, Adrian keyed in a security code to a hidden panel. A wall slid open, revealing a narrow passage."This leads to the east tower," he whispered. "There's a hidden surveillance room there. You'll be safe."I grabbed his arm. "I'm not leaving you."His eyes flicked to the front door, which rattled under the weight of a heavy knock.He didn’t argue. Just grabbed my hand, pulling me into the tunnel. The wall sealed behind us, and darkness enveloped us."Lights," A

We didn’t sleep that night. Our bags were packed, the flash drive backed up in three locations, and Wren’s fingers danced over her laptop as she rerouted our signal through a dozen proxies. Adrian moved like a soldier preparing for war, checking weapons, mapping escape routes, barely saying a word.“Where are we headed?” I asked, my voice hushed in the quiet morning light.“Madrid,” he replied. “I have a contact there—someone who’s been tracking Gregory’s global transactions for years. If anyone can connect the dots, it’s him.”The idea of flying halfway across the world in the middle of a manhunt felt surreal, but so had everything since our wedding night. I nodded, trusting Adrian even when the world beneath my feet constantly shifted.Wren handed him a burner phone. “Use only this. If he pings your location, I’ll know.”“Thanks, Wren,” I said, grateful for her strange, sleepless genius.She smiled, tired and jittery. “Go bring down the devil.”We boarded a private jet under an alia

The hush of Zurich's morning wrapped around us like a soft cloak, as if the world itself was sighing in relief. The storm was over—or so we thought.I watched the golden sunlight spill across Adrian’s face, a rare moment of peace softening his usually intense features. He looked at me with a tenderness I hadn’t seen since our wedding night, when we were strangers pretending not to be enemies.But now, we weren’t pretending.And we weren’t strangers anymore.“You really going to wear that ring this time?” he asked, brushing a lock of hair from my cheek.I looked down at the simple diamond on my finger—no politics, no contracts, no lies. Just love.“I might even mean the vows this time,” I said, smirking.He kissed me, slow and deep, and for a heartbeat, the world was quiet.But it didn’t last.By the afternoon, the headlines had shifted. From triumph to tension.Mysterious Death of Billionaire Gregory Bellington Sparks Global InvestigationInterpol Confirms Evidence Leak Tied to Child

Smoke from the explosions curled into the sky like serpents, thick and choking. The blast had shaken the street, breaking windows and sending debris flying like shrapnel. The Interpol building was still standing, but the warning was clear: Sebastian Vaughn wasn’t running—he was declaring war.Adrian pulled me back against the concrete wall. “We need to move. Now.”I nodded, my hands trembling. The adrenaline hadn’t faded, but the fear had turned into fire. Vaughn wasn’t just playing defense. He was hunting us. Wren, pale and limping slightly, emerged from the building behind us, flanked by Luca and Amara. She was still recovering, but the rage in her eyes made her look invincible. “He wants to make us afraid. Let’s show him he picked the wrong targets.”We escaped through an underground parking lot, using Amara’s pre-planned exit route. She never went anywhere without one. A black unmarked van waited, engine humming. We climbed in, and as the city chaos receded behind us, a grim sile