Reclaiming Her Love のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 51 - チャプター 60

Sylvia I slammed the door to my office shut, okay, not slammed exactly, but definitely pushed it with more force than usual.I leaned against it for a second, breathing out slowly. My chest felt tight, not from fear, but from the anger bubbling just beneath my skin. They were really annoying. I felt like slamming things to the floor. Maryanne and Emily had really done it this time. The fake smiles, the condescending words, the slick little digs, they thought they still had power over me. They have forgotten I'm not slyvia of before. The thought they could still trample over me.I pushed away from the door and marched toward my desk, throwing myself into the chair. My eyes drifted over the room, still warm with the soft afternoon light streaming through the window. But all I could feel was the cold bite of that earlier encounter.I let out a heavy sigh, rubbing my temple.Why was I even surprised? Of course they’d come back early. Of course Maryanne would immediately start sabotaging

Sylvia The room was quiet again, but this time the silence wasn’t peaceful.It was thick, like smoke after a fire. Like something invisible was pressing down on everyone’s shoulders, daring them to breathe too loudly.After the storm of the morning meeting, the board had taken a recess. People had scattered like marbles on a smooth floor. Some had rushed outside for air. Others lingered in corners, whispering in pairs, exchanging tight-lipped theories or nervously scrolling through their phones like they were searching for an escape.I hadn’t moved.I stayed in the large, echoing conference room, alone with the weight of my own thoughts. I stood by the tall window, arms folded, staring blankly down at the courtyard below where the hospital’s trees danced gently in the wind. It felt like a different world down there. Calm. Peaceful. Unaware of the war happening in this room.So this was it.My moment.My move.I had laid it all bare, spilled truth like blood on the table. Every fact,

Slyvia The moment the door slammed shut behind Logan, silence swallowed the room.Not the kind of peaceful silence that brings rest… This was the kind that suffocates you. That wraps around your throat and squeezes, slowly, until the air slips away. The kind that makes you feel you were in a sleep paralysis episode, trying to reach out but you can't. The kind that got you thinking this was the end.My chest rose and fell quickly. I was trying to stay composed… but everything inside me was crashing like a wave during a storm, loud and violent. The echo of that door still rang in my ears like a gunshot. I could hear it repeatedly.I stood in the middle of the room, too still, too quiet. My hands trembled at my sides like leaves in the wind. I turned slowly, facing the window behind my desk. The city lights were glowing softly, oblivious. Cars moved below like nothing had just collapsed in my world. Like my chest hadn’t been cracked wide open. Like I hadn't just been betrayed by the per

Sylvia The boardroom was too cold, too quiet, the kind of quiet that carried tension like smoke in the air. The glass table gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and the chairs, arranged in their usual perfect circle, seemed like thrones at a battlefield. Everyone was seated. Everyone but him.I didn’t let my eyes linger on the empty chair at the far end. Logan’s chair.Instead, I adjusted my blazer, sat tall, and kept my expression neutral.This wasn’t the day for weakness. This was the day I made them see that I wasn’t shaken. That I wasn’t the girl who cried in silence two days ago. I was the woman they underestimated, and they were about to learn that lesson the hard way.“Let’s begin,” came Mr. Johnson’s voice from the head of the table. He was old, calm-faced, with eyes too used to the politics of the hospital. “We’re here to finalise the issue surrounding Violet Wilford's a dedicated medical doctor with a focus in pediatrics. The vote was inconclusive two days ago. We’ve revie

Logan The Bayview Lounge was a calm, classy restaurant nestled at the edge of town, overlooking the river. It wasn’t flashy or loud, just warm lighting, soft jazz humming from the ceiling speakers, and a view that helped you forget the madness of the city.I sat at a booth near the window, a glass of water in front of me, fingers drumming against the table. It had been a long week. A long life, if I was being honest.A few minutes later, Victor finally walked in, looking every bit the exhausted businessman he had recently become. Suit slightly wrinkled, hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it too many times, but still carrying that confident Victor energy.“Finally,” I said, standing halfway to greet him.“Don’t start,” Victor replied, sliding into the seat across from him. “Your assistant almost scared me off with that formal text invite. ‘Dinner. 7:30. Don’t be late.’ Man, are we going to court?”I smirked. “You’re lucky I even remembered to text you, yet you came late. I’v