All Chapters of THE CEO's REVENGE BRIDE: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

"Security, we have a situation in the east wing." Sophia Martinez froze, a champagne flute halfway to her lips and a dinner roll stuffed hastily into her borrowed clutch. The voice crackled through someone's radio, cutting through the echo of classical music and tinkling laughter that filled the Metropolitan Museum's grand ballroom. *Shit. Shit. Shit.* She'd been so careful. In and out, grab enough hors d'oeuvres to last her and her mother three days, maybe snag a business card or two from potential clients who'd never normally give a struggling event planner the time of day. The perfect crime, really, if you could call stealing canapés from Manhattan's elite a crime. "Miss, you need to come with us." The security guard materialized beside her like a wall of black suited intimidation. Around her, perfectly coiffed women in thousand-dollar gowns turned to stare, their Botoxed faces shifting from mild curiosity to barely concealed delight at witnessing someone else's humiliati

The black town car that pulled up to Sophia's building at exactly 7:30 PM probably cost more than she'd make in three years. She watched it from her apartment window, her palms sweating as she smoothed the blue dress he'd somehow known she owned.The dress was her one truly expensive piece a midnight blue silk sheath she'd splurged on for a job interview at the Ritz Carlton that had ended in humiliation when they'd discovered her father's reputation preceded her. She'd worn it exactly once, and somehow Ethan Cross knew about it."You look beautiful, mija," Elena said from her wheelchair by the window. The effort of getting dressed had exhausted her, but she'd insisted on seeing Sophia off. "Like a queen going to battle.""That's exactly what I'm afraid of." Sophia grabbed her clutch her own this time, not borrowed—and kissed her mother's forehead. "If I'm not back by midnight""You'll be back." Elena's voice was firm. "And you'll be fine. You're stronger than you know."The elevator i

The law offices of Hartley, Davidson & Associates occupied three floors of a glass tower in Midtown, the kind of place where billable hours started at four figures and the coffee cost more than most people's lunch. Sophia felt underdressed in her best interview suit a black blazer and pencil skirt she'd bought at an outlet store two years ago.Ethan's lawyer, James Hartley, was exactly what she'd expected: silver-haired, expensively suited, with the kind of smile that cost extra. He spread the contract across a mahogany conference table that could have doubled as a landing strip."It's quite straightforward," Hartley said, his tone suggesting this was anything but. "A six-month engagement arrangement with specific performance requirements and compensation structure."Sophia picked up the document. Forty seven pages of legal jargon that might as well have been written in Sanskrit. "Performance requirements?""Public appearances, social media presence, cohabitation arrangements." Ethan

Three days into their cohabitation, Sophia learned that Ethan Cross was a creature of rigid habits. He woke at 5:30 AM precisely, worked out for exactly one hour, showered with military efficiency, and consumed his breakfast always the same protein shake and fruit—while reading financial reports on his tablet.She discovered this because she'd been awake since 4 AM, too nervous about their first public appearance to sleep.Tonight was the Pemberton Foundation Gala, a charity event that would serve as their debut as Manhattan's newest power couple. According to the briefing materials Ethan had given her, everyone who mattered would be there including several business associates who might report back to Harrison Blackwell and Isabella."You're up early," Ethan said, appearing in the kitchen doorway at 6:45. His hair was still damp from his shower, and he wore the kind of perfectly tailored suit that made her mouth go dry."Couldn't sleep." Sophia clutched her coffee mug like a lifeline.

The Whitney Museum's private viewing was supposed to be a smaller, more intimate affair than the gala. Sophia quickly discovered that "intimate" in Manhattan social circles still meant two hundred of the city's most influential people gathered in one space, all eager to see Ethan Cross's mysterious fiancée up close. "Remember," Ethan murmured as they approached the museum entrance, "we're madly in love and completely comfortable with each other. Think of it as an extension of last night." "Right. Madly in love." Sophia adjusted the emerald green dress Victoria had selected a stunning piece that hugged her curves and made her feel like she could conquer the world. "Any other last-minute tips?" "Just one." He stopped walking, turning to face her fully. "Stop overthinking it. The woman I danced with last night, the one who charmed half of Manhattan society? She's still there. Trust her." Before she could respond, he leaned down and kissed her cheek, his lips lingering just a mome