บททั้งหมดของ Twice in One Life: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

The boardroom had grown familiar to Celeste and Darren. Papers shuffling, voices rising in debate, numbers flickering across the projector screen Every week, sometimes twice, Darren and Celeste found themselves seated at the long mahogany table, their voices among the chorus of board members, advisors, and analysts who came armed with charts and anxieties. The walls of glass reflected the skyline, and the city seemed to lean in, listening to the clash of strategies and the spin of deals.But Darren rarely paid attention during these meetings.His attention had narrowed to the woman across from him.Celeste sat with her papers in perfect order, notes written in a precise hand that revealed nothing of haste. She dissected problems with ease that silenced debate, her arguments layered in logic and instinct alike. Investors paid more attention when she spoke, not because she demanded attention, but because she made the solution sound inevitable.Darren leaned back in his chair, pretendin

Ingrid read the headlines with the satisfied smile of a queen watching her pieces fall perfectly into place. The morning papers lay spread across her mahogany desk, each one emblazoned with images of Darren and Celeste caught in some candid moment.There was one in particular she lingered on, a photograph snapped just as Darren leaned slightly across a café table, his gaze fixed on Celeste with something that could not be mistaken for mere professionalism. The camera had caught him unguarded, eyes softened, the lines of his face less austere, almost tender.Love in the Boardroom? screamed one headline.Darren Finds Comfort in the Mysterious Celeste, declared another.Ingrid tapped her manicured nail against the bold print, her smile widening. To the public, the story had already begun to write itself. The chatter was everything she wanted, it brought Darren to the spotlight again, gave him the publicity he needed, with Celeste Hayes as the right partner.“Perfect,” she murmured, foldi

The little garden café was tucked away from the city’s noise, its wrought-iron tables scattered beneath flowering jacaranda trees. Sunlight sifted through violet blossoms, spilling onto the stone path where Darren walked beside her. He had chosen the place deliberately, somewhere quiet, somewhere that promised discretion. Yet as they stepped inside, Evelyn could feel the stares. Even here, a few heads turned, whispers trailing after them.She held herself steady, straight-backed as Celeste, but her heart was thudding with a rhythm that belonged only to Evelyn. It had been weeks since she had lived a day in her own skin during daylight, unmasked, unmeasured. And though she was still hiding, pretending to be Celeste, something about the morning had refused to let the mask hold completely.Darren pulled out her chair. She murmured thanks, and when their eyes met briefly, she felt an unsettling current. He was looking at her differently today. Not the wary, strategic gaze of a man negotia

“Celeste.”Katie’s voice carried softly yet firmly across the dining hall, breaking the quiet hum of morning. She didn’t bother with titles, as though her first name was enough. Celine had once asked her to do that, a way to preserve some intimacy in the formal world of business.Celeste lifted her eyes from her untouched teacup. She forced a smile. “Katie. You’re here without warning.”The younger woman stepped forward, sliding gracefully into one of the high-backed chairs at the end of the glass dining table. Her gaze flickered briefly, first to Ònààrà, who leaned lazily against the archway, then back to Celeste. A stillness settled between the three women, heavy with unspoken things.Katie folded her hands in front of her, knuckles pale. She didn’t speak immediately. Instead, she drew a leather folder from her bag and placed it on the glass. The soft thud of paper against the polished surface rang louder than it should have.Celeste’s eyes dropped briefly to the file, then back to

The city outside his window seemed too alive for the restlessness he felt. Midday light poured in unfiltered, turning the glass into a harsh, gleaming pane. Below, the streets bustled with rhythm and purpose: honking cars locked in argument, vendors calling out in hopeful tones, and the steady hum of footsteps rising and fading like a tide. Darren leaned his shoulder against the frame, one hand in his pocket, the other resting idly on the sill. It should have been an ordinary day, but nothing in him felt ordinary anymore.His reflection ghosted faintly back at him in the glass, layered over the brightness outside. He stared at that faint double image as though it were mocking him: Darren, the successful, the controlled, the man who always knew how to bend a situation into his favor. But for once, his own face did not look convincing.Celeste.Her image intruded uninvited, the memory of her from last night seated at the dining table. She had been different then, really different. Not t