A Wife For Seven Days のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 121 - チャプター 130

“Nothing,” David said with a little curl of mischief tugging at his lips. Then, as if flipping a switch, his face straightened into mock seriousness. “Just the fact that they’ve been married for sixteen years now.” Xander’s hand paused midair, the pen in his grip stilling above the document on his desk. A faint frown touched his forehead. Then, looking down, he set the pen down, shifted the papers, and returned to work as though the conversation were meaningless. David leaned back in the chair opposite him, his smirk widening. “You heard me, right?” “I did,” Xander replied , eyes still on the files. “She doesn’t look like someone who’s been married for that long,” David mused, tilting his head thoughtfully. “Which part of it doesn’t look like that? The face?” Xander asked, his brow arched slightly, though his eyes didn’t lift from the page. “Exactly.”David mused, “Come on, Xander. She has Tatiana’s face, yes, but that’s not possible. She isn’t her.” “I’m not saying it’s he

The restaurant was the kind that silenced the city’s noise at its threshold. Polished glasses shimmered under amber light, and every corner smelled faintly of cedar and aged wine. Tatiana paused at the entrance, the hostess offering a polite smile as she confirmed the reservation. Her reflection glinted off the glass door—a calm mask, perfected over years of learning when to smile, when to listen, when to hide the tremor that threatened to betray her heart. She had come alone. --- FLASHBACK The boardroom was already full when Xander and David pushed the glass doors open. Conversations died down. Xander’s presence had that effect — a quiet command that didn’t need words. His steps were measured, the sound of his shoes echoing in the polished room. Then he saw her. Evelyn—no, Tatiana. She was seated near the far end of the long mahogany table, her posture straight, legs crossed elegantly, her fingers resting lightly on a notepad. The morning light streamed through the windo

Tatiana stepped out of the restaurant into the cool night air, the city lights stretching like golden veins across the dark horizon. The faint cold breeze lingered, soft and earthy, wrapping around her as though to cool the anger that still burned quietly inside. She paused by the car, her hand tightening around her purse. The valet hurried forward, holding open the car door with a polite nod. She murmured a thank-you and slipped inside, the leather seat cold against her skin as she threw her head back. As the car rolled into motion, the quiet pressed in—thick and heavy. She leaned back, eyes half-closed, but every breath still carried a trace of his cologne. “I don’t mind.” Those words repeated themselves in her mind like a mantra. Xander. She could still see him as he had been at the table—calm, collected, eyes dark with something she dared not name. His words replayed in her head, soft but sharp enough to draw blood. Six years since he choose someone else. Not Tat

By the time Xander's car turned into the driveway, the mansion was cloaked in half-light, illuminating a familiar figure waiting near the door. “Martha?” Xander slowed his pace as he stepped out of the car. The maid straightened, her usual kind expression soft with relief. “You’re back,” she said, her voice gentle but carrying the quiet concern of someone who had seen too much of the family’s unspoken tensions, especially three hours ago. He nodded, loosening his tie. “Is Arianna asleep?” “Yes, sir,” Marta replied. “She had a bit of trouble at first, but she’s sleeping now.” Before Xander could respond, another voice drifted from behind Martha. “Why won’t she fall asleep by herself?” Xander's face brightened a little. “Brenda?” Brenda's smile widened the more. “Sir Xander, welcome home.” “When did you get back?” She was wearing a pair of jean trousers with a sleeveless flowery top that hung loosely down her shoulders, giving her a casual yet lively look. “This

The glass doors of the conference room swung open with a crisp click of heels.From the ninth floor of the Michelle Company, Selena adjusted the collar of her white suit jacket as she walked down the hallway.Mira scurried to open doors for her, greeting her with tight smiles and quick bows. She noticed her boss’s mind was already on the meeting.Her meeting.She had called it early that morning — a marketing review to finalize the next quarter’s brand direction.The team had been dragging their feet since that last product rollout, and Selena intended to remind them who led this empire’s image — especially now that Evelyn was here.As she entered the conference room, the long table stretched ahead like a runway. She set her bag down and exhaled softly, taking her seat at the head of the table.“Get the marketing team in here,” she told one of the assistants. “I’m starting the meeting.”Within minutes, the members filed in — familiar faces: Ryan, the young executive with big ideas but