Mr. CEO, Leave Me Breathless のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

I woke up to silence. My arms ached where Ingrid had grabbed me, and my neck throbbed from her hair-pulling. I didn’t dare look in the mirror. Some wounds weren’t just physical, they were embedded in my heart.Lando was there. Quietly, as always, sitting on the edge of the sofa with his gaze fixed on me. He didn’t speak. I almost wanted to thank him, but my pride and despair tangled into a bitter knot.“You need to rest,” he finally said, his voice calm but firm.“I… I’m fine,” I muttered, but my voice betrayed me.“You’re not,” Lando said softly. “Your arms… your neck… you were attacked. You need to let me help.”I swallowed, the lump in my throat refusing to move. My mind replayed that horrible scene in the hospital where Ethan pushed me away, calling Ingrid “Babe,” Scarlett’s icy glare, Ingrid laughing as she dragged me out.My chest tightened with every memory, my stomach flipping as if someone had thrown it into knots. And the worst part? Ethan didn’t recognize me.“I… I just…” M

When I opened my eyes, everything was white. White ceiling. White sheets. White light searing my eyes. And for a moment, I thought maybe I had died, that the emptiness I felt meant I was already somewhere else, somewhere far away from pain.But then the cold crept in. The sharp, sterile scent of antiseptic filled my lungs, and I realized I was alive. Barely.The world around me was blurred, voices distant and muffled, like I was underwater. I tried to move, but my body wouldn’t respond. There was a dull ache in my abdomen, deep and throbbing, pulsing like a cruel reminder that something wasn’t right.My mind drifted back to the sound of Ethan’s voice, the look in his eyes before everything went dark. I remembered the push, the shock, the fall, the warmth of blood spreading beneath my hands.And then nothing.A tremor passed through me. My lips parted, but the only name that slipped out was his.“E-Ethan…”The word barely left my throat when I heard movement. My eyes fluttered open wid

The restaurant was quiet, aside from the soft clatter of cutlery and the low hum of conversation from the tables near the windows. Afternoon sunlight poured in, catching the highlights in Ingrid’s hair. She was laughing about something that had happened on set, leaning slightly across the table with a lightness I didn’t remember feeling in years. Her smile was warm, effortless, the kind that made people forget their worries.I watched her, nodded when appropriate, murmured an “uh-huh” or a “really?” at the right moments. But none of it reached me. My mind kept wandering, slipping past Ingrid’s radiant presence to someone else.Someone I couldn’t name, couldn’t place. Someone who shouldn’t have been so distant in my memory, yet who felt like the center of everything.“Ethan,” Ingrid said, breaking through my fog. Her voice was soft, curious. She tilted her head, eyes searching mine. “Have you heard anything about Selina Prescott lately? Did she come back to work? Do you know what reall

I arrived at the office that morning with a familiar flutter of excitement, the kind that never truly left me, no matter how long I’d been at Yuan’s company. Today wasn’t just any day, it was the day I officially became Creative Director. Three years of pouring my heart, sleepless nights, and constant striving had led me here, and for the first time in a long while, I felt completely at peace with myself.Yuan was already in the office when I arrived, leaning casually against the glass wall of his corner office, his usual calm aura radiating around him. He smiled when he saw me step in, and I felt the subtle tension in my chest ease.“Selina,” he said, voice smooth as silk, “congratulations. Top employee of the year for the third consecutive year and now officially Creative Director.”I couldn’t help but grin, though I tried to play it cool.“Thanks, Yuan. I… I really appreciate the recognition. It means a lot.”He smirked, pushing himself off the wall to approach me “It’s well deser

The hallway smelled of aged wood and faint lavender, a mixture of cleanliness and memory. Every step I took echoed in the empty corridor, the sound bouncing off walls lined with faded photographs of children I didn’t remember but somehow felt familiar. My fingers grazed the wooden railing as if anchoring me to reality, grounding me so I wouldn’t get lost in the ghosts of the past.The nun walked silently beside me, her presence calm but authoritative. She didn’t rush, but her small, knowing smile suggested she understood why I was here and what I was about to face.“This way,” she said softly, turning a corner and leading me to a small door at the end of the hall. The brass doorknob gleamed faintly, worn by countless hands over the decades.I swallowed, my pulse racing. “This… this is my room?”She nodded. “The one you stayed in, the first room assigned to you here. Do you want to go in?”I hesitated. Part of me wanted to stop, turn around, and leave this place behind forever. But ano