บททั้งหมดของ Married to the cold CEO: บทที่ 151 - บทที่ 160

Glass walls had never felt so fragile.Every reflection in Damian Cross’s twenty-seventh–floor boardroom seemed to carry a secret tonight—his, Elena’s, or the company’s. The lights of the city flickered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, as if even the skyline held its breath after the scandal that broke only hours earlier.Reporters swarmed outside Cross Enterprises like a colony of vultures. Cameras flashed, headlines screamed, and somewhere on the news, a commentator was already dissecting their marriage as though it were just another business merger gone wrong.Inside, the air was ice.Elena stood by the long mahogany table, the same place where Damian once made decisions that shifted entire industries. But now, that table was a battlefield. Spreadsheets, files, and digital screens cluttered the surface like the aftermath of a war no one had won.She didn’t look at him right away. Her gaze was locked on the large television screen that still displayed Marcus Blackwell’s smug fac

Whispers traveled faster than fire in a storm.By morning, every news screen in the city flashed the same headline:“Cross Enterprises CEO Linked to Blackwell Family Scandal—Evidence Surfaces.”Elena watched from the living room couch, her coffee untouched, her hands cold despite the heat of the cup. Damian’s face filled the screen — stern, distant, captured in one of those press photos that made him look untouchable. But today, that same image looked brittle, like glass about to shatter.The anchor’s voice echoed through the silence.> “Anonymous documents leaked overnight suggest that Damian Cross, current CEO of Cross Enterprises, built his empire using assets under the name Marcus Blackwell. Sources claim the business giant may have hidden his identity for over a decade following a mysterious family tragedy—”She couldn’t listen anymore.She turned the TV off and sank deeper into the couch, her mind spinning.The night before still felt like a wound that hadn’t stopped bleeding —

Waves lapped softly against the wooden dock, the faint scent of salt and engine oil filling the cool night air. Elena tightened her coat around her shoulders, her breath visible in the crisp breeze. Pier 19 was nearly deserted except for the flickering streetlight that hummed above her, casting a pale halo across the wet boards. Somewhere in the distance, a ship’s horn echoed—a low, mournful sound that made her heart beat faster.She glanced at her phone again. The message glowed ominously on the screen:Unknown Number: If you want to save Damian, come alone.Her instincts screamed it was a trap, but she couldn’t ignore it. Not after what had happened earlier. The stock crash. Marcus’s broadcast. Damian’s haunted eyes before he walked into that boardroom.She couldn’t sit and do nothing.A creak broke the silence.Elena spun around. “Who’s there?”No response. Only the wind, whispering through the pier’s hollow frame.Then a figure emerged from the fog.“Miss Harper,” came a smooth vo

Sparks from the fireplace snapped softly against the silence that filled the penthouse. Elena sat on the far end of the long leather couch, her fingers tracing invisible lines along the rim of her coffee mug. Across from her, Damian leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his gaze fixed on the city lights spilling through the glass wall. Neither spoke. The space between them felt heavier than words could ever carry.For days, their marriage had been caught in quiet storms—whispers of betrayal, photographs leaked to tabloids, and a looming corporate war threatening to swallow Cross Enterprises whole. But tonight, it wasn’t the company or the headlines that burned inside them. It was the question neither could voice: Had they already lost each other before they ever truly began?“Julian’s move against me was planned,” Damian finally said, his voice rough from exhaustion. “He used you as bait, Elena. The media attacks, the forged documents—he wanted to see if I’d crumble.”Her heart clenche

Elena’s heels clicked against the marble floor of the Cross Industries atrium, echoing into the silence that had followed the chaos of the day. Her mind raced faster than her steps. Hours ago, she’d uncovered the hidden clause in the contract that bound her to Damian—not just in marriage, but in every major decision of her life. It wasn’t just business; it was control. And the man she thought she was beginning to understand had signed every line of it.The night air hit her face as she exited the building. The city glittered under the glow of silver streetlights, indifferent to her turmoil. She stopped beside a row of taxis, unable to decide where to go. Her heart wanted to confront him, but her pride demanded space. Damian Cross wasn’t a man who begged, and he definitely wasn’t one who explained himself. Yet somehow, she wanted him to.A black car pulled up quietly beside her. Adrian stepped out, his expression tense but kind. “Mrs. Cross—”“Don’t call me that right now,” she said sh