The CEO's Shattered Vows のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 9

The emerald silk clung to Isabella's frame like a second skin, the fabric cool against her nervous fingers as she smoothed it down one more time. She'd chosen green deliberately—Damien's favorite color, though he'd never actually told her that. She'd learned it by watching him over five years of marriage, noticed how his eyes lingered on emerald cufflinks, how he always ordered mojitos with extra mint, how the leather chair in his study was that exact shade of deep forest green.That was what wives did, wasn't it? They noticed things. They paid attention. They tried."You look beautiful, Mrs. Reeds," her stylist, Monica, said with professional warmth as she made final adjustments to Isabella's upswept hair. The mirror reflected a woman Isabella barely recognized—polished, elegant, the perfect accessory for a billionaire's arm. The girl who used to wear paint-stained jeans and lose herself in secondhand novels felt like a distant memory, someone who'd existed in another lifetime."Than

The morning sickness hit Isabella like a freight train at exactly 6:47 AM, three days into her new life at the motel. She barely made it to the bathroom before her stomach emptied itself, leaving her shaking and sweating on the cold tile floor.This was her routine now. Wake up, throw up, cry a little, pull herself together, repeat.Grace had transferred the fifteen thousand as promised, but Isabella knew it wouldn't last forever. Motel rent ate up a chunk each week. Food, even the cheap stuff, cost more than she remembered from her bookstore days. And soon she'd need maternity clothes, baby supplies, medical care she couldn't afford.The panic attacks came at random times—in the shower, at the grocery store, lying in bed at 3 AM staring at water-stained ceiling tiles. What had she done? How was she supposed to raise a child alone with no money, no family, no plan beyond surviving the next twenty-four hours?But then she'd remember Damien's cold eyes as he called her a mistake. Victor

Three months into her new job, Isabella finally moved into her own apartment. It wasn't much—a cramped one-bedroom in a building that had seen better decades, with radiators that clanked at odd hours and a refrigerator that hummed like it was trying to communicate. But it was hers. Hers and Lily's. No more sleeping on Grace's generosity, no more feeling like a burden.The apartment came unfurnished, which meant Isabella spent her first night there sleeping on an air mattress with Lily in the bassinet beside her. They had exactly three plates, two forks, one pot, and a collection of mismatched cups from the dollar store. The walls were bare except for water stains. The carpet was brown—whether by design or years of neglect, Isabella couldn't tell.It was perfect."What do you think, baby girl?" Isabella asked, holding Lily up to see their new kingdom. "It's not a penthouse, but it's ours."Lily, now three months old and getting chubbier by the day, just drooled on Isabella's shoulder.

Lily turned two on a cold November morning that felt like a mirror of the day she was born. Isabella woke early, staring at the ceiling while her daughter slept peacefully in the toddler bed they'd recently transitioned to. Two years. Two entire years of motherhood, of survival, of building a life from nothing.The apartment looked different than it had a year ago. Isabella had slowly accumulated real furniture—a proper couch from a yard sale, a dining table with only one wobbly leg, curtains that actually matched. The walls had pictures now: photos of Lily at various stages, a few of Isabella and Grace, even one of Rosa holding Lily at the park. It looked like a home, not just a place to sleep.Isabella had saved for weeks to afford Lily's birthday party. Nothing extravagant—just a small celebration at the apartment with Rosa, Grace, Jen and her kids, and a few other daycare families. A homemade cake, dollar store decorations, and a pile of presents that were mostly practical things

Spring arrived with unexpected warmth, transforming the city from gray and dormant to green and alive. Isabella stood at Rosa's door on a Saturday morning, holding Lily's hand and a bag of groceries she'd insisted on bringing."You don't need to bring food every time you visit," Rosa said, but she was smiling as she took the bag. "Though I won't say no to fresh vegetables. Come in, come in."These Saturday visits had become routine over the past few months. Isabella would bring Lily over, and they'd spend the afternoon at Rosa's house—cooking together, playing in the small backyard, just existing in each other's company. It was different from the weekday drop-offs and pickups. More relaxed. More like family."Miss Rosa!" Lily broke free from Isabella's hand and ran toward the kitchen, where Rosa kept a cookie jar specifically for visiting children."One cookie before lunch," Rosa called after her. "And wash your hands first!"Isabella followed them into the kitchen, familiar now with