All Chapters of Married to my ex-husband's boss: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Elle’s POVSoft morning light filtered through the cracks in the curtains. I stirred slowly, the warm weight of an arm curled around my waist. A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I shifted slightly and looked up at Raymond.He was already awake.His blue eyes met mine with a tenderness that never failed to melt me.“Morning, Princess,” he whispered, brushing a loose strand of hair from my face.“Morning,” I replied, my voice still husky from sleep. “You’ve been watching me?”“Guilty,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss my forehead. “You look too peaceful to disturb.”We stayed like that for a while, just wrapped in each other’s arms. It was moments like these that made me feel like the world outside didn’t exist, just us.But it did, and eventually, duty called. We took our time getting dressed, teasing, and sharing kisses in between buttons and ties. Raymond helped zip up my dress, his fingers lingering—brushing against my skin—and I had to gently push him away with a l

Elle’s POVThe moment the door closed behind me, I felt the weight of everything collapse onto my chest.I couldn't go back to the office. I just decided to go straight home.I stood in the middle of the living room— frozen—my fingers still trembling from what I had just been through. Confronting Richard should have made me feel stronger, braver even—but it didn’t. It only made everything feel heavier and...worse.He didn’t deny it. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he laughed in my face and wore his betrayal like a badge of honor. As if ruining my name somehow made up for the years he spent breaking me.I dragged myself up the stairs and into the bedroom, shutting the door softly behind me. I leaned against it for a moment, exhaling slowly. My legs were shaky, and my chest burned.I shouldn’t cry again. Not over him.But the tears came anyway.I curled myself into a ball on the bed, holding a pillow against my chest as silent sobs shook my shoulders. I cried for the humiliation, for th

Raymond’s POVSomething was off with Elle.She smiled, she talked, and she even laughed sometimes. But it didn’t reach her eyes like it used to.She thought she was hiding it well—but I knew her better than anyone. I saw the way her shoulders sagged when she thought I wasn't watching, and how she brushed off conversations with a forced “I’m just tired.”But I knew that she wasn’t just tired. She was hurting.And I hated not knowing how to fix it.I had asked her about it more than once, but she always dodged, giving me excuses. "It's work stress.""I had a long meeting.""It's just a little burnout."Those were the sentences I kept hearing.She didn’t know I knew what was going on with her. This was her first time being a COO, so I'm sure it must be stressful. And with the rumor that went by, that must be adding to the stress. I had shut it down fast. I knew Elle—she wasn’t afraid of headlines. She was afraid of what people thought after reading them.Luckily, my PR team had called

Elle’s POV I didn’t remember walking back to my office or even changing up. I couldn't recall if the staff laughed when I walked by and yelled, "Served you right!" or if they stared at me in pity. I didn’t remember much at all—just the sound of the yells echoing in my ears, those cruel words clinging to me like dirt I couldn’t wash off. It didn’t matter that the articles had been taken down. That Raymond stood by me. That I had done nothing wrong. Those people had made up their minds, and I had become their favorite story to tell—the scandal of the year wrapped in pearls and a designer bag. I locked the office door behind me and sank into the corner beside my desk. I didn’t cry. I just… sat there. Staring at nothing. Feeling everything. Hours passed without me realizing it. My phone buzzed, and the computer dimmed. I could see the darkened sky through the window, and still, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t bear the thought of stepping out and facing another glance or another w

Raymond’s POV The meeting had dragged on for too long. Charts and numbers filled the screen—sales reports, goals, projections, and so on. The staff talked, but their voices blurred together—or more like faded into oblivion. I nodded like I was listening, but my mind was somewhere else. My phone lay face-down on the table. It hadn’t buzzed. No texts, no calls, nothing. I had been waiting to hear something from Marco for two days. I had watched Elle slip deeper into herself, and it was killing me. I wanted her to get better, but to do that I needed to know what exactly was wrong with her. I checked the phone again, even though I knew it was pointless. Still, there was nothing. Mark was speaking now. He stood near the screen, pointing at some graph. “If we move the launch to November, we could hit the holiday numbers…” I tried to focus. I really did. But all I could think about was Marcos. How long did it take to gather information? I guess digging deep took a lot of time. B