Falling For My Ex’s Brother-In-Law のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 261 - チャプター 270

Kristoff’s POV The boardroom was too quiet for a room filled with men pretending to listen. I sat at the head of the long glass table, fingers steepled, eyes fixed on the projection screen as slides flipped by…revenue forecasts, acquisition timelines, risk assessments. Numbers. Always numbers. They usually calmed me. They obeyed logic. They bent when pressured. Today, they blurred. My mind wasn’t in the room. It was already racing ahead to tonight. Three days. That was all that stood between me and absolute control. Rissa would sign. She had to. The divorce papers, the share transfer…temporary, I would tell her again, even though we both knew there was nothing temporary about surrendering power. Once her signature was on those documents, once her father’s shares were secured, the board would have no choice but to fall in line. By the time the wedding arrived, everything would already be done. Clean. Legal. Irreversible. The presenter cleared his throat nervously. “Mr. H

Mrs. Quinn’s POV The reporter’s smile was practiced, polished, and fleeting… the kind people wear when tragedy brushes past them but never truly touches their lives. “I wish you the very best, Mrs. Quinn,” she said as the cameraman began packing up. “We’ll keep the story running. Someone will come forward.” I nodded, returning a smile I didn’t feel. My hands were steady, my spine straight, my chin lifted. I had learned long ago that the world believed strength more readily than sorrow. “Thank you,” I replied. “For helping bring my daughter home.” The words tasted like iron in my mouth. As soon as I slid into the back seat of the car, the door shutting with a soft, final click, the mask cracked. Just a little. Enough for me to release a breath I’d been holding since the cameras first started rolling. Rissa. Missing. My daughter reduced to headlines and whispered sympathy. I stared out the window as the driver pulled away, the city blurring past in streaks of gray and g

Rissa’s POV Kristoff’s words wouldn’t stop replaying in my head. You’re not a Quinn. The truth sat in my chest like a stone, heavy and suffocating. My mother had cheated. My father…our father.. had another son. Kristoff. From another woman. The questions circled endlessly. Who was she? When did it happen? How long had this lie lived inside our family before it finally rotted everything it touched? My body throbbed in places I didn’t want to think about. My ribs ached when I breathed. My wrists were raw where the cuffs had rubbed, my scalp still pulsing from where he’d struck me earlier. Every movement sent pain shooting through me, a reminder that I was still very much trapped. Still very much at his mercy. The door opened. My heart jumped violently. I expected Kristoff. I braced myself for his face, his smile, his voice cutting into me again. But it wasn’t him. One of his men stepped in, carrying a tray of food. He didn’t look at me. Just dumped it on the small table l

Kristoff’s POV The first thing I saw was blue. Not the calm, respectable blue of corporate glass buildings or tailored suits but flashing, violent blue lights cutting through the dusk like accusations. Police cars. More than one. Parked right where my warehouse gate should have been invisible. My foot slammed the brake before my mind could catch up. No. No, no, no. I reversed instinctively, tyres screeching against gravel as my heart detonated in my chest. This wasn’t part of the plan. They weren’t supposed to be here yet. Not now. Not when everything was finally lining up…when Rissa was secured, Anna was contained, and the board was almost in my pocket. Then one of the officers turned. Our eyes met through the windshield. “Shit.” The siren wailed to life. I floored it. The engine roared as I spun the wheel, tearing away from the warehouse and blasting down the road. The speedometer climbed fast…eighty, ninety, a hundred…buildings blurring into streaks of shadow a

Kristoff’s POV “Lock the fucking gate,” I barked into the phone, my knuckles white around the steering wheel. “And don’t let anyone through. Anyone who tries to force entry…shoot.” “Yes, sir,” the guard replied without hesitation. I ended the call and floored the accelerator. The private house loomed ahead, hidden behind high hedges and reinforced steel gates. One of my many contingencies. One of the places no one was supposed to know about. The gate slid open just enough for my car, then sealed shut behind me with a metallic finality that echoed louder than it should have. I slammed the car door so hard the windows rattled. “Fuck!” The word tore out of me, raw and furious. I paced into the house, my shoes echoing against marble floors that suddenly felt cold, mocking. Every step carried the weight of the last forty-eight hours…every plan unraveling, every advantage slipping through my fingers like sand. Rissa gone. Anna free…on bail. Mrs Quinn suddenly playing quee