Semua Bab TOO RICH TO BE MINE.: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Catherine didn’t sleep.Not really.She closed her eyes, but her body pulsed with guilt—and longing. The guilt belonged to James. The longing? That part hadn’t moved. It was still tethered to Elijah.It wasn’t just what happened.It was how she let it.How she’d wanted to forget.But Elijah’s voice, his eyes, the way he said her name—none of it left her. Not even in the arms of someone else.She sat on her balcony as the sun cracked open the sky. The cool breeze kissed her bare shoulders. She hadn’t changed from the dress she wore last night. A shameful echo of all the ways she’d tried to erase him.The gate buzzed.Her heart jumped.She didn’t check. She didn’t have to.She opened the door before he could knock.Elijah stood there, face shadowed, eyes bloodshot.They stared at each other.No words. Just… gravity.He stepped inside. She didn’t stop him.“I saw you,” he said finally. “Last night.”Catherine swallowed, her chest tightening. “I know.”He looked like it physically pained

The ride home was a blur. Catherine couldn’t remember the roads she took, or how many red lights she might’ve run. Her hands stayed clenched around the wheel, knuckles white, jaw locked so tight it ached.She had said she needed more than love.She just hadn’t expected less than truth.By the time she reached the quiet luxury of her family’s penthouse, morning light was already spilling across the horizon. The city was waking. She was unraveling.She dropped her heels by the door and headed straight for the living room, tossing her coat aside and reaching for her laptop. She didn’t know what she was looking for exactly—only that she couldn’t sit still, not when her head was screaming with questions.What did Elijah mean by “the board”?Who was he talking to?And who the hell was he supposed to marry?She started with what she knew.Blake Holdings.She typed the name into the private database her father paid ridiculous money to maintain access to. It didn’t take long to find the busine

The silence in her parents’ penthouse was never just silence.It was performance. It was tension dressed in crystal and marble. And as Catherine walked in—coat still clinging to her skin like memory—she could feel it all pressing down on her.Her mother was waiting in the living room. Perfectly still. Not a hair out of place.“You’re late,” she said, not looking up from her tablet. “And you missed brunch with the Carters.”Catherine didn’t respond. She walked past her, toward the hallway. But before she could escape, her father’s voice called out from the dining room.“Catherine. Sit.”She froze.The chair was already pulled out for her, like this was a board meeting she hadn’t asked to attend. James was sitting at the head of the table, dressed in a pale grey suit and a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.“Lovely to see you,” he said casually, swirling wine in a glass like he lived there.Catherine sat. Slowly. Her heart hadn’t stopped thudding since she left Elijah’s place.

The dining room was all crystal and deception.Catherine sat in her usual seat, back straight, hands folded neatly on her lap. Her mother’s diamond earrings caught the light as she reached for the wine. Her father was laughing — at something James had said — and the entire table felt like a theater set.The Carters were late, of course.“Smile a little,” James whispered from beside her, brushing his fingers across her thigh under the tablecloth. “We’re about to make this official.”She shifted, pulling away. “Don’t touch me.”He leaned closer, teeth still showing in a fake grin. “You really should be nicer. You’re already making enough noise in the press.”Catherine stiffened.“What do you mean?”James swirled his glass casually. “Oh, didn’t you hear? Elijah Blakes was spotted last night at a Blake Industries boardroom after hours. Apparently, there was quite the scene. A shareholder confrontation. One of the assistants leaked it to the tabloids.”Her blood ran cold.“Elijah Blakes,”

Elijah had never been the type for grand gestures.But tonight was different.The rooftop he chose overlooked the river, glowing with the soft golden hue of strung lanterns. A table sat at the center, draped in navy silk and lit by flickering candles. Two wine glasses waited. The night air was cool but not cold, and the quiet hum of the city below gave the moment a heartbeat.There were no photographers. No designers. No press.Just peace.He’d rented out the entire building — the same one they once passed during a late walk, when she said, “If I could freeze one night, I’d freeze this one.”So he tried.He dressed simply: crisp black shirt, sleeves rolled, a single gold watch.She would be here.She said she would come.And this time, he was ready — to tell her everything. Not as Elijah Carsen. Not as Elijah Blakes. Just as the man who had never stopped loving her.⸻Meanwhile.Catherine sat stiffly on the edge of a leather couch inside a blinding white studio.Cameras flashed. Styli