Semua Bab Flash Marriage To The Billionaire CEO : Bab 41 - Bab 50

The next morning, Elena woke to the faint sound of rustling papers. For a moment she thought she was dreaming, but when her eyes fluttered open, she saw Adrian sitting at the armchair near the window, already dressed in a crisp black shirt with the first two buttons undone. His hair was slightly damp from the shower, his watch gleaming in the sunlight.He wasn’t supposed to be here.Usually by this hour, he was gone, leaving only the faint smell of his cologne behind.She blinked sleepily. “You’re still here?”Adrian glanced up from the documents in his hand, his gaze softening as it landed on her. “I said I’d come home earlier. I didn’t say I couldn’t start later, too.”Elena pushed herself up on the bed, clutching the blanket to her chest. “Since when does Adrian Blackwell delay his empire for anyone?”The corner of his mouth lifted faintly. “Since he got married.”Her cheeks warmed, though she quickly rolled her eyes to cover it up. “Cheesy.”“Honest,” he countered smoothly, settin

The bass rattled through the floor, drowning out the world in flashing neon and vibrations that made the air itself hum. Elena sat curled into a velvet booth, her head spinning pleasantly from too many cocktails. Vanessa was still dancing like she owned the floor, tossing her hair and shouting song lyrics at strangers, but Elena had slowed down, her body swaying only when the music pressed too hard to ignore. Her phone buzzed again, glowing with the same name. Adrian Blackwell. Her thumb hovered over the screen, her drunken brain running a thousand reckless thoughts at once. If I pick up, I might say something stupid. If I don’t, he’ll get angry. Ugh, why is he so bossy even when he’s not here? She was still debating when a sudden shadow blocked the strobing lights above her. “Elena.” Her name rolled out low, cold, and unmistakably sharp even through the deafening music. Her head shot up, eyes widening. And there he was. Adrian stood over her, dark suit perfectly tailor

The evening sun spilled gold across the tall windows of the Blackwell mansion, softening the edges of its marble floors and gilded frames. Elena had just finished arranging the flowers in the living room when the butler entered, his voice respectful as always. “Madam Blackwell is here.” Elena’s heart skipped a beat. She turned, smoothing the front of her simple silk blouse. It wasn’t their first meeting—far from it. Adrian’s mother had already welcomed her as family, had already embraced her warmly. But each visit still carried its own weight, a subtle pressure that made Elena want everything to be perfect. When she entered, Mrs. Blackwell looked radiant, her elegant gown a shade of ivory that highlighted her graceful features. She carried herself with the ease of someone used to commanding attention, but when her eyes landed on Elena, her smile softened into something maternal. “My dear Elena,” she said warmly, opening her arms. Elena stepped forward, enveloped in the soft p

The mansion was wrapped in silence. Not the polite kind that filled its grand halls during the day when staff moved quietly in the background, but the deep, almost sacred stillness that only came at night. Outside their window, the gardens rested under the soft silver of the moonlight. Inside, the only sound was the measured rhythm of Adrian’s breathing.Elena lay awake.Her eyes adjusted to the darkness slowly, tracing the broad lines of his shoulders, the way his arm lay heavy and possessive around her waist. His chest rose and fell against her back in a steady, grounding cadence. He was asleep, but even then, he held her close as if afraid she might slip away.It was… confusing.She blinked up at the ceiling, her thoughts chasing themselves in restless circles. This man—this impossible, untouchable man—was her husband. Her husband. The same Adrian Blackwell whose face graced the covers of business magazines, whose presence could silence entire boardrooms, whose name carried more we

The Blackwell Group headquarters was a fortress of glass and steel, its gleaming exterior reflecting the chaos of the city outside. Dozens of reporters clustered at the gates like vultures, their cameras flashing, their voices rising with the same question again and again:“Mr. Blackwell, is it true your wife is involved in the leak?”“Mr. Blackwell, do you have a statement about the scandal?”“Is the marriage just a cover-up?”Adrian strode through the front doors without answering a single one. His security detail flanked him, forcing the crowd back, but the fury simmering beneath his composed exterior was unmistakable.Inside the marble lobby, executives and assistants scrambled to greet him, their faces pale with panic. Adrian’s presence was like a storm cloud rolling in—controlled, lethal, inevitable.“Conference room. Now,” he ordered.Within minutes, the top brass of the Blackwell Group were seated around the long oak table, their nervous chatter dying the moment Adrian entered