All Chapters of Accidentally His Husband: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

  SOREN'S Pov  The morning after Nathan’s arrest felt unnaturally quiet. For years, I had lived in noise, meetings, phones ringing, deals being made or broken in seconds. But today, the silence carried weight. Every shadow in my penthouse felt like a secret waiting to be uncovered. Every unanswered call from the board reminded me that the war wasn’t over. It had only changed shape. I stood by the window, watching the city crawl awake below. Cars streamed along the highway like silver veins, people rushing into a world that never stopped spinning. And for the first time in a long while, I wasn’t sure where I fit into it. Adrian was still asleep on the couch, curled beneath a blanket I’d thrown over him sometime around dawn. His face was peaceful, softer in sleep, the chaos of the night before hidden beneath the steady rise and fall of his chest.

   Soren’s POV  I woke up to the soft hum of the city outside and the faint scent of coffee drifting through the air. The blanket over me was warm, tucked neatly. Adrian must have covered me before going to bed. For a few seconds, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts heavy. Last night’s conversation kept replaying in my head, his words, the way he’d looked at me, the hurt in his voice when I hesitated to trust him. I wanted to believe him. I really did. But the leak, the timing, the doubt, it was all tangled up in a way that made everything confusing. I sat up slowly, rubbing the back of my neck. My laptop sat closed on the table, as if mocking me. Somewhere inside that metal box was proof that someone had betrayed us. I just didn’t know who yet. The smell of coffee pulled me toward the kitchen.

Soren’s POVThe night was quiet when I returned to the mansion. The rain had just stopped, leaving a soft scent of wet earth in the air. The lights were still on, glowing through the tall windows. It felt strange walking in alone. Adrian wasn’t home yet. He had gone to meet with some investors earlier that evening, and I knew he preferred to handle those things alone.Still, the silence made me uneasy.I dropped my keys on the marble table and loosened my tie. Everything around me looked perfect, the polished floors, the art pieces, the flickering fire in the hearth, but it didn’t feel like home. It felt like a stage, one where Adrian and I played roles neither of us fully understood.I went upstairs and stood by the window in our room, watching the city lights blink in the distance. The reflection staring back at me in the glass looked tired, like someone caught between wanting to stay and needing to leave.A sound came from the door.When I turned, Adrian stood there. His hair was

Soren’s POVThe morning sunlight slipped through the curtains, soft and golden, brushing against my face. For a few seconds, I forgot everything, the chaos, the press, the endless arguments. There was only quiet. Only warmth.Then I realized I wasn’t alone.Adrian’s arm was draped across my waist, his breathing slow and steady against my shoulder. His scent lingered faintly, something clean and warm, like rain and cedarwood. The memories of last night drifted back: the rain, the silence, his apology, my own walls finally cracking a little.It wasn’t perfect, but it was real.I turned slightly to look at him. He looked different when he slept, calm, almost peaceful. It was strange to see him like that, stripped of the tension that usually sat behind his eyes.For a moment, I let myself think maybe this could work. That maybe we could start over.Then my phone buzzed.I reached for it carefully, trying not to wake him. The screen flashed with a message from Clara.We have a problem. Ur

Adrian’s POV  I didn’t think I’d ever get used to living in Soren’s world. Everything about it felt like a performance, perfect suits, cold smiles, and conversations that meant the opposite of what they sounded like. But over the past few weeks, I had learned how to move through it. Maybe not gracefully, but enough to survive. Enough to stand beside Soren without flinching when someone whispered about our “arrangement.” I knew it still bothered him. Every time we showed up at an event together, his jaw would tighten just a little. He’d pretend not to notice the stares, the sly smiles, the pity. But I could feel the tension in him—how much he hated the loss of control.