Married to the cold CEO のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 211 - チャプター 220

Elena lingered by the frosted window of her small rented apartment, her fingers curled weakly around a mug of untouched tea. The steam had disappeared long ago, but she couldn’t bring herself to refill it. Her thoughts felt heavy, dragging her deeper into the quiet that had consumed her since she left Damian’s mansion two nights ago.She had walked away to reclaim her dignity, her voice, her heart.But the silence that followed—his silence—had carved through her like a blade.Elena told herself she was healing. That she was strong. That she would stand firm in her decision.Yet every hour without a message, without a call, without a single word from Damian Cross…felt like losing another piece of herself.Her phone vibrated suddenly.Her breath caught—only to sink again when she saw Bella flash across the screen instead of the name she so desperately needed to see.She answered.“Bella?”“Elena, thank God! Are you alright? I tried calling yesterday and—”“I’m fine,” Elena whispered,

Shadows crawled along the hotel room walls as Elena sat curled on the edge of the untouched bed, hands wrapped around her knees. Hours had passed since she left the mansion, but the heaviness inside her hadn’t lifted; it followed her like a silent second heartbeat—slow, painful, impossible to ignore.She hadn’t cried.Not because she didn’t want to.But because every tear felt like it would drown her if she let even one fall.A soft knock echoed through the room.She stiffened.Bella stepped inside quietly, making sure to lock the door behind her. “I got here as fast as I could. Elena… oh God, you look like you’ve been holding your breath for years.”Elena managed a weak smile. “I feel like I have.”Bella sat beside her without hesitation. “Did he hurt you?”“No.” Elena shook her head. “Not physically. Just… the truth hurt.”Bella exhaled slowly. “The contract?”Elena nodded.“I thought I was strong enough to live with it,” she whispered. “I thought I could pretend it didn’t matter. B

An uneasy stillness wrapped itself around Elena the moment she stepped out of Cross Industries’ glass tower. Traffic roared, reporters shouted, cameras flashed—but none of it touched her. Every piece of noise sounded distant, muffled, as if a thick fog had descended over her senses.Because Marcus Blackwell was alive.And worse—Marcus was coming.A name whispered in Damian’s nightmares.A ghost he once warned her about.A man who vanished years ago after swearing to destroy everything Damian loved.Now he was back…and he had chosen the perfect moment to strike.A black sedan pulled up to the curb. Adrian stepped out quickly. “Get in. We need to talk somewhere that isn’t crawling with cameras.”Elena nodded, slipped inside, and let the door close behind her. The soft click sounded like the beginning of something she wasn’t ready for.Adrian sat across from her, brows knotted with tension. “Are you all right?”“Not really.” Her voice came out hoarse. “Adrian… is it true? Marcus wants

Silence clung to the hallway outside the boardroom like a suffocating fog as Elena followed Damian out. His steps were slow, heavy, like each one dragged a piece of him behind. The man who once commanded skyscrapers, markets, and men with a single look now walked as though the weight of the entire world pressed against his spine.Elena stayed close without touching him, unsure if he needed comfort or space. She could feel the storm burning beneath his calm exterior—anger, betrayal, shame, fear… emotions he rarely allowed anyone to see.Damian pushed into his office and shut the door gently, not slamming it the way a defeated man might. He crossed to his desk, placed both palms on its glass surface, and exhaled shakily. His reflection stared back at him—a man stripped of everything except the one part he never knew how to protect: his heart.Elena stepped inside quietly. “Damian…”His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t look at her. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”“I have already s

Silence pressed against Elena Harper’s chest like an unseen weight, thick and unyielding, as she stood at the edge of the glass-walled balcony overlooking the city. Lights glittered below, sharp and distant, as if they belonged to another life entirely—one where certainty still existed.Behind her, the penthouse felt unfamiliar. Too large. Too empty. Too quiet without Damian’s presence filling the air.She wrapped her arms around herself, fingers digging into the fabric of her sweater as if holding on could keep something from slipping away. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, uneven and unsettled, replaying fragments of the past days like broken scenes from a film she didn’t want to finish watching.Trust wasn’t something that shattered loudly.It cracked slowly. Invisibly.And now, every step she took felt like walking on glass.Damian Cross had always been composed—controlled to the point of cruelty, some would say. But in the hours since she had uncovered pieces of the truth he had