All Chapters of Condemned Wife's Compliance: Chapter 231 - Chapter 240

The morning light crept into the Nikolaidis residence cautiously, as though it knew better than to arrive too boldly after the night that had passed.In the living room, three people sat arranged in a loose triangle that felt far too deliberate to be accidental.Alexandros Nikolaidis occupied the armchair closest to the window, his posture upright, his hands folded loosely in his lap. Across from him on the sofa sat Mr and Mrs Payer, their shoulders almost touching, their bodies angled subtly toward each other in a way that spoke of long habit and shared resolve.The silence between them was thick. Not hostile, not exactly. Just deeply uncomfortable.Alexandros cleared his throat.“I hope,” he said, trying for small talk, “that your journey here from your hotel was uneventful.”Neither of the Payers replied immediately.Mrs Payer offered a polite nod, her lips pressed together in a thin line that could have been a smile if one squinted hard enough.“Yes,” she said eventually. “It was f

Adrea had barely settled into her chair, coffee still untouched beside her laptop, when the laptop chimed. She glanced at the screen to see that she had gotten an email. She clicked on the email app went to the inbox tab. She glanced at the sender and straightened instinctively.Elias Markou.The COO of Galanis Holdings did not send casual emails.She opened it immediately.Adrea,When you have a moment this morning, could you stop by my office. There is a personnel matter that requires your attention.Elias MarkkouCOO, Galanis Holdings headquartersAdrea exhaled slowly. Elias had watched her grow up in a way. While he had been alive, Andreas had brought her to the office, let her sit on the corner of his desk with colouring books and latter her phone while he worked. Elias had always greeted her with the same warm smile, the same gentle ruffle of her hair.If there was one “uncle” who had been genuine to her, it was him. But maybe that was because their ties were strictly professi

It was not obvious at first that something was wrong. The lighting was still warm, the low hum of conversation still present, the hostess still smiling as she asked Tiara for her name. But when Tiara gave it and William Smith’s, the woman’s smile shifted just slightly. Professional. Polite. Prepared.“Right this way,” she said.Tiara adjusted her coat over her arm and followed, heels clicking softly against the polished floor. She scanned the main dining area as they passed. Couples leaned toward one another over candlelit tables. Glasses caught the light. Laughter rose and fell in soft waves. This was the sort of place engagements were celebrated in, anniversaries toasted, deals quietly sealed.She felt a flicker of delight. He had chosen well.Then the hostess veered away from the main floor and toward a narrow corridor along the side of the restaurant.Tiara’s steps slowed almost imperceptibly.“This way?” she asked lightly.“Yes, Miss Galanis,” the hostess replied, already opening

The café was small but busy enough to feel neutral. It sat on a narrow side street just off the main road, tucked between a florist and a tailor’s shop, the kind of place people went to when they wanted to talk without being overheard but also without being alone. Round wooden tables filled most of the space, close enough that conversations overlapped into a soft murmur, far enough apart that no single voice stood out.The smell of ground coffee and warm pastries hung thick in the air.Gabriella arrived first.She took a table near the centre of the café, not too close to the windows, not pressed against the wall either. She placed her bag on the chair beside her, folded her hands on the table, and waited.People came and went around her.A young couple leaned toward each other over one cup of coffee, whispering and smiling. Two women sat with laptops open, tapping away between sips. At the counter, a barista called out orders while another wiped down the espresso machine, movements qu

Felix Nikolaidis was having an ordinary day. That, more than anything else, would irritate him in hindsight.The conference room was glass-walled and bright, the late morning sun filtering through floor to ceiling windows and reflecting off polished surfaces. A long oval table dominated the space, already scattered with tablets, printed decks, and half-finished cups of coffee. He sat at the head, jacket draped neatly over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled to his forearms in a way that suggested approachability without sacrificing authority.Across from him, his marketing team was mid-discussion.“So, the focus is not on what the product does,” someone said, gesturing vaguely at a slide projected onto the wall, “but on how it integrates into lifestyle. Less technical language. More aspiration.”Felix nodded slowly, fingers steepled in front of him.“Yes,” he said. “Exactly. We are not selling function. We are selling inevitability.”A few people smiled at that. Someone typed quickly