THE EXTRAORDINARY BRIDE OF THE WYNDHAM FAMILY 의 모든 챕터: 챕터 271 - 챕터 280

Aurelian picked up his phone and made a quick call. It connected almost immediately. “Come to my office,” he said, and ended the call without waiting for a reply. He leaned back in his chair afterward, resting one ankle over the opposite knee. His fingers interlocked, rising to his mouth as his eyes fixed on the glass wall ahead. From this height, the city looked small, like something already under his control. Still, his thoughts were restless. The door opened moments later, exactly as expected. Jasmine walked in, and the door closed behind her with a soft click. His office was vast and wide. It is open, deliberately intimidating. The walk from the door to his desk was long enough to make anyone feel exposed. Jasmine took her time crossing it, her steps were slow, measured, and deliberate. Her posture was confident, her movements calculated, as if every of her sway and pause had been practiced. Aurelian noticed her immediately. And it irritated him. He had seen this act too m

After a long, busy, and mentally exhausting day, Mercy leaned back in the back seat of the company car as it moved smoothly through traffic. Her shoulders ached, her head throbbed lightly, and her eyes felt heavy from staring at reports and numbers all day. She closed her eyes briefly, hoping to steal a few minutes of rest before they reached the hotel where she was currently staying. The hotel was still some distance away, and the steady hum of the engine almost lulled her into sleep. Just as her lashes were about to meet, something felt… off. Mercy opened her eyes and glanced out of the window. The familiar landmarks she had memorized over the past few days were missing. The car was taking a different road. Her body straightened instantly. “Um… Mr. Whale?” she called, leaning forward slightly. “Yes, ma’am,” the middle-aged driver replied calmly, his eyes still on the road. “I don’t think this is the way to the hotel,” Mercy said carefully, trying to keep her voice steady. “O

Mercy stepped out of the Carminton Central Police Station with slow, tired steps. The morning sun touched her face, but it did nothing to warm the heaviness in her chest. Reporting Adam Smith had taken more strength than she expected. Saying his name out loud, repeating his actions, signing statements—it all made her feel exposed, like she had peeled open a wound she had been trying hard to close. She adjusted the strap of her handbag on her shoulder and inhaled deeply. “You did the right thing,” she reminded herself. No matter how uncomfortable it felt, no matter how her hands had trembled while speaking to the officer, she knew she had done the right thing. Adam had crossed boundaries too many times. His constant threatening messages had gone beyond discomfort. It was harassment, and she refused to stay silent. Her car was already waiting by the curb. The driver stepped out quickly and opened the back door for her. Mercy gave a small nod of thanks and slid into the seat. The do

Mercy’s heart was pounding so hard she was certain everyone in the room could hear it. Her palms were damp, her fingers slightly numb, and for the first time since she stepped into this building with pride in her spine, doubt crept in. This was not how she wanted her boss to see her. Not like a woman trapped between a raised hand and a past she was desperately trying to escape. This is it, Mercy thought bitterly. This is where everything falls apart. She could already imagine it—Aurelian Wyndham stepping back, his expression hardening, his voice turning distant and professional. A polite dismissal. And a quiet replacement. The end of everything she had just begun to build. Her throat tightened. Then Aurelian spoke. “You can drop your hand now.” The command was calm, it was not loud and not aggressive. Yet it carried weight. Mona stiffened as if the words had physically struck her. Her raised hand trembled once before slowly lowering to her side. She turned, startled, finally

“Get your filthy hands off the lady. Now.” The voice cut through the room and Adam was caught unaware. He had forgotten to lock the door. The voice wasn’t loud, and it wasn’t rushed. It carried no uncertainty, no fear, only command. Adam Smith froze. Mercy felt the shift before she even understood it. The weight pinning her down lifted abruptly, and Adam straightened from the bed, his chest rising sharply as he turned toward the door. Kendrick stood there. One hand rested calmly at his side, the other loosely clenched. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, but his eyes burned with something dark and dangerous. It was the kind of stillness that came before violence, the kind that made even Mercy’s breath catch. Adam scoffed and stepped away from the bed, clearly irritated by the interruption. “Who the hell are you?” he snapped. “This doesn’t concern you.” Mercy scrambled off the bed, her legs shaking beneath her as she tried to move away. But before she could reach the door,