STEP ASIDE EX-HUSBAND: THE RISE OF LIANA のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 181 - チャプター 190

Liana’s POVThe ballroom shimmered under a canopy of light, a cathedral made of glass and ambition. The Z-Core annual shareholder meeting was supposed to be procedural, numbers, projections, optimism. But the air tonight was charged with something else. Something almost electric. Liana felt it before she even stepped on stage.From her seat in the front row, she could see the crowd, a sea of investors, analysts, and journalists, every one of them waiting for the next move from the woman who had somehow pulled Z-Core from the ashes.She smoothed the notes in her hands, though she barely needed them. Years of boardrooms and negotiations had made her a practiced speaker. But this was different. Tonight wasn’t about control. It was about choice.When the stage lights came up, applause rippled through the hall. Liana walked to the podium, poised in her signature calm, crisp white suit, hair sleek, eyes steady. The same woman who once trembled in the shadow of powerful men now was the powe

Camilla*****Years later******I can’t believe it’s been two years of me out of college yet I’m unable to get a job. I don’t want to message my parents, I want to build something out of myself on my own without the help of anyone and that’s why by 6:30 in the morning I’m struggling to hail a cab so I can get to the Interview on time. I had always prompted myself in being an early bird, lateness got nothing on me. The interview was a blur, for someone who had been on many interviews this was but a piece of cake. The HR woman smiled at megenuinely, not the “we’ll be in touch” fake smile.And then, before I could even gather my bag, she announced “Congratulations, Ms. You passed.”My heart froze.“P-passed?” I blinked.“Yes. And we’d like you to start today. Can you?”Can I? I almost laughed. I wanted to hug her. I wanted to cry. I wanted to jump on a table and praise God.“Yes,” I breathed. “Absolutely.”She handed me a small orientation card and directed me to the elevator.My new

By the time I pulled into the garage beneath the building, dawn had barely stretched across the sky. Most people were still in bed, still warm, still safe. I hadn’t slept. I hadn’t even tried.The way Marseille clung to me in the cold alley, the trembling man, the echo of fear in his voice. I should have been thinking about that. I should have been focused on the cartel, the money, the meeting I had to schedule today.Instead, all night, one image kept tearing through my mind.Camilla.Her eyes locked on a screen, her lip caught between her teeth, her hair falling across her cheek completely unaware.I stepped out of the Benz and forced myself to shut it down. If I didn’t, she was going to become a weakness. And in my world, weaknesses get you killed.By the time I reached the office floor, I had built my armor back piece by piece. The version of myself people fear. The version that keeps everything controlled.I pushed open the glass door to my office and froze, she was already ther

Adrain’s Pov The office was quieter than usual that morning. Not the usual hum of printers, typing, and low murmurs that made it feel alive. Today, there was only the faint clatter of keyboards and the occasional sigh from someone buried in a spreadsheet. It should have been comforting. Normal. But for some reason, I felt the tension before I even saw her.Camilla.I’d seen her desk from the doorway as I passed by, the soft curve of her neck bent over a file, fingers dancing across the keyboard.I hated that I noticed it. Hated that it distracted me. Hated that I wanted to notice it.I turned, heading toward my office, trying to quell the heat rising in my ears. Focus, Adrian. Focus. Not now. The words repeated in my head like a mantra. But as I reached the corner, I froze at the sound of her voice, soft and hesitant, carrying just enough for me to catch it.“…Yeah, Mom, I’ll be home this weekend. Friday evening. I’ll take the train.”The words hit me like ice water. My chest tight

The sound of my phone buzzing in the middle of a meeting made me jump. I had been trying so hard to focus on my work today, on the endless spreadsheets and budget forecasts, but my parents’ voices kept creeping into my mind like ghosts I couldn’t shake.“Camilla, you’re not getting any younger,” my mother had said over the phone that morning, her tone clipped with worry. “It’s time you start thinking about settling down. We want to see you happy with a husband, and maybe… grandchildren someday.”I had laughed nervously, shifting in my chair as if that could somehow move the words away. “Mom, I’m fine. Really. I’ve got work, and things are busy.”“Busy won’t keep you company forever, darling,” she had replied, the words almost bitter, heavy with expectation. “You need to think long term. You can’t just work all your life and expect happiness to find you.”And then Dad had jumped in, more practical than warm. “We aren’t asking for much. A good man, someone reliable. We just want to kno