All Chapters of The billionaire's vengeful bride : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

~ ADRIANI didn’t know why I was bothered.It was just a flash marriage. Nothing deep. A quick fix to get my grandmother off my neck.Maybe just for the meantime.I sighed and took another slow sip from my glass of wine. The rich, fruity bitterness slid down my throat, burning slightly. I leaned back in my chair, letting the glass dangle loosely in my hand.“Elena’s death didn’t just break me—it rewired me. I stopped seeing people, only problems. Love? That was a code I deleted from my life.”Everything that reminded me of her… hurt.But something seemed different about this girl—Emilia.Her silence mirrored Elena’s quiet strength, but her gaze didn’t reach me the same way. Still, my chest burned like I’d stepped into the past wearing someone else’s shoesElena and I had met back in a business meeting years ago. She wasn’t even supposed to be there. I remembered how she walked in late, her soft smile stealing the room, her confidence lighting something in me I didn’t know I had.We go

 ~Emilia The day went by faster than I thought it would. Between emails, calls, and reading through Mr. Jefferson’s long documents, I barely had time to blink. The office grew quieter by the hour—footsteps fading, printers slowing, voices turning into soft murmurs down the hall. By 5:30 PM, Lana popped into the office and told me I could pack up. I nodded with a small smile, shut down the laptop, and gathered my things. The ride home felt long. I watched the city pass by through the window—blurred lights, strangers, the weight of newness pressing softly on my chest. When I opened the door to the house, the first thing I saw was Adrian. He was sitting at the dining table, his face lit by his laptop screen. Fingers flying across the keyboard. Focused. Sharp. I stepped in and placed my bag gently by the door.

  ~Emilia Adrian was home already before me. That surprised me—he was either late or never at home. I stood at the doorway for a moment, staring at his figure slouched in the armchair, his face buried in his phone. The dull glow of the screen lit up his cheekbones. He didn’t even glance at me. I sighed deeply, dragging myself inside. My feet ached. My shoulders felt like someone had stacked weights on them. “Home early,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. I kicked off my shoes by the entrance and walked barefoot across the cold tiles. The soles of my feet kissed the chill—too cold for comfort. With a heavy plop, I dropped onto the sofa nearby. My forehead glistened with sweat, the air sticky from heat that clung to everything like invisible glue.&n

~Emilia"Ughh," I let out a deep breath, staring at the ceiling like the whole world was empty—just like me.It was morning, but I didn’t feel like going to work. I didn’t want to face Lana, or worse, Mr. Jefferson.Tossing and turning helplessly on my bed, I let out a soft, frustrated scream."Let the world come to an end," I muttered dramatically, covering my eyes with both hands like that would somehow shield me from reality.A voice came from the door, casual but firm. "Yes, it will—if you don’t get up and get ready for work, young lady."I froze. That was Adrian.Had he been there the whole time?Was he eavesdropping on me?Embarrassment washed over me, heating my cheeks. I scrambled to sit up."I’m quitting, I don’t—""Meet me in the car in the next thirty minutes," he cut me off flatly, glancing at his wristwatch before shutting the door behind him with a quiet but firm thud.Thirty minutes?Did he even hear what I said?I groan, frowning as I dragged myself off the bed and trud

~EmiliaI hummed my favorite song under my breath as I slipped into my freshly ironed dress. The flowered collar shimmered gently under the dim lightbulb overhead.With a glance at the mirror, I fastened my heels and leaned forward to try on a lipstick for the first time. It felt... wrong.I’d watched Lana apply hers like it was second nature, and I’d always wondered what it felt like. But now, staring at my reflection, the red looked too bold—like it belonged to someone else.I wiped it off with a tissue, then paused. My lips looked dull. Pale.Maybe just a little. I dabbed it back on, trying to blend it better. Still awkward.“I don’t know how Lana does this,” I muttered, studying my face, turning it left and right like it would suddenly look right from another angle.Then my eyes darted to the wall clock.“Oh no... I’m late!”I wiped the lipstick off again—too rushed to care if the stain was gone completely—and flew down the stairs with my bag swinging off my shoulder.Outside, I f