Lahat ng Kabanata ng Craving The Enemy's Husband: Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

Chapter 101: Sweet love **Christiana’s POV** I woke up feeling like the luckiest woman alive. Bryan’s arm had been heavy around me, his breath warm against the back of my neck, and I felt at peace. We brushed our teeth together, nudging elbows in front of the mirror like we had done it a hundred times before. Breakfast was quick but tender. Coffee, toast, little glances that said more than words. Then came the quiet decision to order new clothes for him. He couldn’t go to work with yesterday’s clothes. I wouldn’t let that happen. From the moment Bryan and I walked out of the car and toward the glass doors of Adams Petroleum and Gas headquarters, the air shifted. Heads turned, conversations faltered mid-sentence, phones lowered. The entire building seemed to tilt as if it had been holding its breath, waiting for us. I could feel the scrutiny, the quiet, electric hum of curiosity. The way their eyes lingered on us, measuring every detail: how closely we walked side by side, the fai

Chapter 103: She wants to destroy me **Christiana’s POV** The hall seemed to shrink the moment my grandmother’s eyes locked on mine. It was as if the air thickened, pressing against my lungs, making it harder to breathe. For all the years I had dreaded this woman, for every nightmare replayed in the recesses of my childhood, every whispered prayer that I had never have to stand before her again, I had built speeches in my head. I had imagined myself defiant, strong, ready with words sharp enough to cut through her poison. Now she is here standing before me, my brain refused to boot, as if it recognised this whole thing is impromptu. How did she find me here? My tongue was heavy, my throat constricted, my heart thundered against my ribs like it wanted out, and my legs felt leaden as I forced them to move, step by step, until the marble floor carried me right into the storm. I stopped before her, spine straight, chin lifted just enough to pretend at confidence. My voice, when it c

Chapter 105: My Saviour **Christiana’s POV** The sting of her slap was nothing compared to the sting of her words. “You are just a whore!” My grandmother’s voice cracked through the lobby, sharp as shattered glass. “A shameless whore! Just like your mother!” The word slammed into me, lodging itself in my chest like a poisoned blade. It echoed off the marble walls of Adams Petroleum’s lobby, bouncing from ear to ear, embedding itself in every heart and tongue present. The whispers that had begun as murmurs swelled into an ugly, rolling tide…“Whore.” “Just like her mother.” “Mistress.” Each repetition was a nail hammered into me. My skin burned as if I stood beneath a magnifying glass, every stare a flame closing in. Now, everyone knows I am the daughter of Giveon Salazar. How am I going to continue working effectively with this disgrace and shame? I know when I had gotten this job during the interview with Ben, Desmond and Sandra, they realised I was a Salazar but I knew they nev

Chapter 107: He desired it**Christiana’s POV**I closed my eyes and responded in my thoughts, wishing he could hear it: Yes, I am pregnant.The words echoed in my mind, trembling and fragile, begging to be released.A foolish part of me almost believed he could hear them because Bryan Adams wasn’t ordinary. He carried himself like a man who saw through people, who pulled truth out of silence. I opened my eyes, almost curiously, searching his face as though some hidden power would make my unspoken confession reach him.And then he asked again. Each syllable deliberate, his voice low and commanding, his gaze unrelenting, pinning me in place like a hawk pinning its prey.“Christiana… are you pregnant?”The silence stretched, unbearable, and finally I exhaled. My gaze fell from his, sliding to the steaming cup clutched between my hands “Yes,” I whispered.The single word left me raw, exposed, fragile. “I am pregnant” I continued and I wanted to continue talking because I do not want to

Chapter 109: Insane Bitch **Bryan’s POV** The engine ticked as it cooled behind me, the only sound in the stillness of the night. I closed the car door quietly, the weight of the day still pressing against my ribs, my chest knotted with exhaustion. The keys in my hand felt like lead, each one a reminder of a house that had ceased to feel like mine long ago. All I wanted was to slip in, gather a few things, and retreat back to the fragile promise of hope I had begun to find with Christiana. Bella was outside, waiting as though she had known exactly when I would arrive. Perched cross-legged on the swing, that’s her favourite spot outside, she looked like a grotesque guardian in the moonlight. The very same swing she had claimed the night I returned from kissing Christiana for the first time, as if she had marked it as her watchtower. The chains groaned softly with her swaying, a slow, deliberate rhythm that carried a strange menace. Her hair that was always perfectly polished was a