Married to the cold CEO のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 81 - チャプター 90

Fingers brushed against the glass of Elena’s office window as the city lights stretched endlessly below, shimmering like scattered embers in the night. She didn’t notice the view anymore; it had become a blur of white and gold, a backdrop to the storm brewing inside her chest. Somewhere between fear and defiance, she stood quietly, waiting.Her phone vibrated on the desk. A message flashed across the screen—Unknown Number: “He’s not who you think he is.”For a moment, she couldn’t breathe.The text glowed like a curse in the dim light.She had seen too many threats, too many whispers since she married Damian Cross. Yet this one felt different—personal, targeted, and heavy with intent.Elena reached for the device, her pulse quickening. Another message came through before she could respond.“If you want the truth, meet me. Alone. Midnight. Pier 9.”Her heart slammed against her ribs. Whoever it was, they knew how to provoke her curiosity and fear in the same breath.She thought of Dami

Pressure pulsed in the air long before anyone spoke. The conference room at Cross Enterprises shimmered with cold tension—the kind that made even the marble walls feel too tight, too small. Elena could hear every heartbeat, every breath, every unspoken accusation vibrating like glass about to shatter.She hadn’t meant to overhear them. She hadn’t meant to walk in on Damian’s board tearing him apart over a decision she didn’t understand. But now she stood there, frozen halfway between the door and the man she loved, her husband—contract or not.“Mr. Cross,” one of the older board members said, voice crisp with judgment. “You’ve let your emotions compromise a billion-dollar merger. We can’t afford sentimentality at your level.”Damian didn’t flinch, but Elena saw his jaw tighten. “You’re implying I made a decision based on emotion,” he said quietly.The man leaned forward. “You gave Harper Holdings another extension. That company is sinking. The only reason to save it is your wife.”The

Silence pressed against the glass walls of the conference room like a held breath.Every executive sat rigidly around the oval table, their pens motionless, eyes darting between Damian Cross and the glowing screen that displayed a single, damning document.Elena’s heart thudded as she stood in the corner, the “CEO’s wife” who wasn’t supposed to be here—but who was now watching her husband’s empire tremble.The board had discovered the hidden merger proposal. The one that wasn’t supposed to exist.Damian’s rival, Julian Crane, had leaked something—a fragment of confidential data that hinted Damian was secretly acquiring Crane Industries’ assets behind closed doors. The rumor was half true, half poison.“Explain this,” said Chairman Roth, voice tight with forced calm. His wrinkled hands folded on the table like a judge waiting for a confession.Damian didn’t blink. “That file was stolen. Manipulated. Whoever distributed it will face legal consequences.”Julian smiled faintly from across

What Damian didn’t expect that evening was how Elena’s silence could echo louder than any accusation. She sat across from him in the glass conference room, the city lights pouring through the walls like silent witnesses. For once, even he couldn’t summon the icy composure that had always defined him.The board meeting had ended hours ago, but she hadn’t moved. Her eyes—calm yet unbearably distant—followed the reflections in the window rather than him.He adjusted his cufflinks, a habit born from discomfort. “You’re angry.”“Anger would mean I still care about your excuses,” she said softly, without turning. “Right now, I’m just... disappointed.”The word hit harder than any slap could have. Damian swallowed the instinct to defend himself. She’d seen the news headlines—photos of him arriving at the gala with Vivienne Roth, his ex-fiancée, smiling like she’d won back her throne.He had told Elena it was for business. She didn’t believe him.“Elena,” he began carefully, “you weren’t supp

Raindrops traced crooked lines across the penthouse windows, smearing the city’s lights into rivers of gold and silver. Elena stood there, her fingers pressed to the cool glass, watching the storm rage while her heart mirrored its unrest. Behind her, Damian’s voice was low, deliberate, a melody of control laced with exhaustion.“You shouldn’t have met Julian alone,” he said, breaking the silence that had grown like frost between them since dinner.She turned slowly, eyes narrowing. “You had Adrian following me again, didn’t you?”Damian didn’t deny it. His hand tightened around the tumbler of scotch he hadn’t touched. “I had to make sure you were safe. Julian Crane doesn’t just want my company—he wants to use you.”Elena crossed the room, the faint echo of her heels the only sound between them. “You think everyone wants to use me. Maybe that’s because you’re the only one who ever did.”That hit harder than she meant it to. Damian’s gaze flickered, the shield of his cold composure slip