Semua Bab MARRIED TO THE CEO WHO RUINED ME: HIS BRIDE, HIS REVENGE: Bab 21 - Bab 30

The dining room fell into a sharp silence, so tense it could’ve been carved with a blade. The polished walls of the Dejeva mansion seemed to close in, every gilded frame, every antique lamp standing witness to the war of truth and lies unraveling before them.Grandmother Ginger’s piercing gaze, sharpened by years of commanding both business and bloodlines, cut through the thick air. She wasn’t a woman to be fooled by shiny exteriors or honeyed words. Her sharp cheekbones only added to the stern set of her expression as she leaned forward in her velvet-backed chair, eyes flicking from Alvin then landing squarely on her grandson, Cross.“Tell me the truth, Cross,” she said, her voice measured but edged with frost. “Is this marriage... fake?”A current of shock zipped through the room. The weight of that single question pulled every thread of composure taut.Cross’s jaw twitched. His mouth parted slightly, as though the words were ready to leap from his tongue. But he didn’t speak.Marce

Marceline’s eyes locked onto Cross, searching his face for any flicker of doubt or hesitation. But his expression was calm, almost unreadable—like a stone fortress. The words he had just spoken echoed inside her mind, clashing violently with everything she believed.She shook her head slowly, the movement almost involuntary. No. That’s not possible. Her voice trembled slightly, betraying the brittle veneer of certainty she tried to wear. “You’re mistaken,” she said softly but firmly. “My mother wouldn’t hurt anyone. She didn’t know that he was married at first… before she knew, it was already too late.”The sentence hung in the air like a desperate plea. Marceline wanted to believe it with every fiber of her being. Her mother was kind—gentle, loving, a woman who had always protected her from the harshness of the world. The very thought that she could be a liar or a villain tore at something deep inside Marceline, leaving a raw ache.Cross smiled, a slow, almost bitter curl of his lips

"Let's go," Cross said curtly, his voice as cold and sharp as morning frost. Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room.Marceline stood frozen for a moment, her brows furrowed in confusion. His mood had shifted like a sudden thunderclap in a clear sky, and she was still reeling from the intensity of the earlier confrontation. With a sigh, she followed him, her heels clicking softly against the polished floors."I should at least greet Grandmother before we leave," she said hesitantly, hoping to salvage a sliver of courtesy amidst the chaos.Cross halted and spun around to face her, his eyes narrowed with irritation. "It’s useless. I've already done that. You don’t need to waste time on such formalities. Let’s go."His tone cut through her like glass, and she simply nodded, swallowing her protest as they exited the house. The air outside was crisp, but the tension between them made it feel suffocating.They reached the car park in silence. The driver

Marceline exhaled slowly, forcing herself to push the storm of thoughts crashing through her mind out of focus. Negative spirals? Not now. Not when every second counted. She needed to silence the panic, to bury the gnawing dread that whispered insidiously beneath her calm exterior.I shouldn’t lose hope. I can’t. Not yet.Her voice was barely a murmur as she muttered the mantra to herself, hoping to breathe some kind of order into the chaos. I have to give this a chance — a trail to follow, a crack in the ice before I shatter completely.But even as she spoke those words, her hands trembled slightly, betraying the fragile thread holding her composure together. Her heart pounded an erratic rhythm in her chest, as if it too was caught between fear and defiance. She paced the room, the soft scrape of her footsteps against the worn wooden floor barely registering in the silence.Then—like a lifeline cast into a stormy sea—a sharp knock came at the door.The sound sliced through the heavy

Marceline’s mind was a tangled web of confusion and disbelief. The cold reality of the moment gnawed at her as she struggled to piece together Cross’s contradictory words.“Cross, I thought you said you—” Her voice cracked with uncertainty, but before she could finish, he cut her off sharply.“I said you can leave,” Cross interrupted, his tone clipped, no room for argument. The words hung between them like a challenge wrapped in ice.For a brief second, a smile flickered across Marceline’s lips — a fragile, almost disbelieving curve. “Thank you so much,” she said, stepping out of the car, the cool hospital air immediately hitting her skin like a splash of cold water.She took a tentative step forward — then paused, hesitation rooting her in place. A sudden urge pushed her back toward the car. She knocked lightly on the glass, her fingers trembling ever so slightly.Cross lowered the window, his eyes sharp and unreadable. Marceline’s voice softened, barely above a whisper, “I promise I