Semua Bab MARRIED TO THE CEO WHO RUINED ME: HIS BRIDE, HIS REVENGE: Bab 1 - Bab 10

Sunlight spilled like molten gold across the tangled sheets, creeping up the length of the girl lying motionless in bed.Marceline groaned softly, burying her face beneath the pillow in a futile attempt to escape the dawn. The sunlight cut through the curtains like a blade, warm and merciless, illuminating the ghost of a night that still lingered on her skin.She wanted to drift back into the haze of sleep, back into the arms that had held her so tightly hours before—arms that were no longer there.Then her phone rang.Sharp. Shrill. Jarring.She jolted upright, her heart skipping once—then twice—as her gaze swept the room.Empty.The spot beside her in the bed was cold. Sheets undisturbed. Like he had never been there at all.But he had. She knew he had.Memories surged back, uninvited—his breath against her neck, the way his lips had traced promises down her spine, the things he whispered between gasps and kisses. She blushed despite herself, one hand reaching out to the vacant pill

Hospital RoomThe world came back in fragments.The steady beep of a monitor.The sterile sting of antiseptic.The cold weight of something missing.Her dignity, maybe.Marceline opened her eyes.Bright white ceiling. A thin blanket pulled over her legs. The soft ache in her arm from the IV needle. But none of that compared to the ice-cold stare boring into her skull.Her mother.Amanda Valino stood at the edge of the bed like a verdict had already been delivered. Arms crossed. Jaw set. Eyes like sharpened glass.“Mother…” Marceline croaked.“Spare me that,” Amanda snapped, her voice low and venomous. “Now tell me, young lady. Who’s responsible for that bastard inside you?”The word hit like a slap.Marceline’s breath caught in her throat. Shame coiled like a serpent in her stomach. Her voice trembled. “I… I don’t know what you mean—”“Don’t lie to me!” Amanda’s voice cracked like a whip. “The test results don’t lie. You’re pregnant. And unless the Holy Ghost touched you in your sleep

Marceline stepped out of the cab, her fingers trembling slightly as she rummaged through her purse for the fare. The driver cast a wary glance her way, his sharp eyes assessing her carefully, a hint of concern flickering across his face, but he refrained from voicing his thoughts. Instead, he accepted the cash with a curt nod. She managed a weak smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, nodded politely, and shut the door behind her. The cab rumbled away, trailing behind it a cloud of exhaust and the relentless, weary hum of the city that lingered in the air like a distant echo of a life she had once known.The iron gate loomed before her, its rusted bars standing tall and unyielding, a fortress to her tumultuous past. It was familiar yet felt like a stranger, like a place that once held warmth, now veiled in the cold fog of time and trauma. She took a shuddering breath, exhaled shakily, and reached forward to push it open. The hinges creaked ominously, the sound slicing through the

Thirty minutes had slowly slipped by since Marceline had retreated into her sanctuary, a refuge from the chaotic storm raging within her soul. The hot shower had cascaded over her, the steam wrapping her in a temporary cocoon, yet it had done little to wash away the heavy weight pressing down on her chest, a weight that felt all too familiar as it threatened to suffocate her. Wrapped in her soft satin night robe, the fabric gliding across her skin, she felt the damp tendrils of her hair cling against her neck, a physical reminder of her disarray. With each step toward the bathroom door, her movement was slow, burdened by exhaustion not of the body but of the spirit, as a tempest of emotions swirled chaotically within her. As she moved, towel in hand, to dry her hair, the silence of her home was abruptly shattered by a shrill vibration emanating from her phone. Her heart quickened, already reacting to the interruption before her hand could even grasp it.

Marceline stood by her window, arms crossed, her eyes fixed on the empty street beyond the glass. A sliver of sunlight stretched across the floor, slowly inching toward her feet like time taunting her. Her heart pulsed steadily, but her thoughts were in chaos—torn between dread and curiosity, fear and defiance. The day had begun quietly, too quietly for her liking. She hated waiting. Especially when it involved Cross.Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, its screen lighting up with a name that made her breath hitch.Cross.She swallowed and picked it up, placing the phone to her ear.“I’ll be there in a minute. Come down.”That was all he said—no hello, no warmth. Just a command. And then the call ended.No goodbye.Marceline blinked at the now-dark screen, jaw tightening.“Who was that?” Cora’s voice interrupted her thoughts, soft and inquisitive as she stepped into the room.“It was him,” Marceline replied, her tone clipped. “He said he’ll be here in a minute. I need to go downstairs