Semua Bab The Return Of The Betrayed Bride : Bab 111 - Bab 120

PRIVATE JET ~ IN FLIGHTAriana buckled herself into the seat across from her, watching silently. She reached into a cooler and pulled out two cans of sparkling water, sliding one across the table.“So,” Ariana said, grinning. “We’re officially fugitives from Spanish high society. Pretty cool, right? Do we get nicknames? Should I start practicing lock picking?”Amelia took the can but didn’t open it, letting the cold metal seep into her hands.Ariana leaned forward, eyes sparkling. “I mean, we ditched that fancy dinner like action heroes. What’s the plan when we land, boss lady? Storm Stone Enterprises with a subpoena in one hand and a latte in the other?”Amelia gave a small, tired smile. She turned from the window to face her. “It’s simple at first. We find out who forged my company’s signature on that shell corporation. Someone’s trying to make Stone Enterprises look dirty. We dig until we find the truth.”Ariana raised an eyebrow, pretending to be serious. "Ooh, detective mode acti

FAVINO MANSION – ALEJANDRO’S STUDYThe door opened without a knock.Marisa Favino stood in the doorway, calm and perfectly put together, her figure outlined by the brighter hallway behind her. She stepped inside and closed the door softly. Her eyes moved over the mess, then settled on her son.There was no worry in her expression. Only judgment.“So,” she said coolly, breaking the silence. “The American woman has finally shown you who she really is.”Alejandro didn’t look up.“She defied me,” he said through clenched teeth. “In public. In front of you, Arturo, Aunt Lucia and my sisters, Elena and Serena. She made a fool of me and walked out.”Marisa moved deeper into the room, her heels silent on the thick rug. She stopped in front of his desk and looked down at him.“And now you sit here,” she said coolly, “drinking and sulking. How predictable.”His head snapped up, eyes burning. “This isn’t about my ego—”“It’s all about your ego,” she cut in. Her voice was sharp and unyielding. “Y

THE LANGSTON HOTEL ~ NEW YORK A quiet, final click came from the door.Not a knock.The sound of a keycard being used.Vivian’s heart slammed hard against her chest, wild and fast. Someone was trying to get in.For one frozen second, she couldn’t move. The room felt too small. One door. No escape.Harrison was already on his feet, yanking on his trousers, moving fast and sharp. His shirt still hung over the back of the chair, forgotten.Vivian sucked in a slow breath.Panic would destroy her.Thinking would save her.She looked at Harrison. “Bathroom. Now. Lock it and don’t come out unless I say so.”Harrison hesitated. “Viv—”“Please,” she said quietly.He nodded and disappeared into the bathroom.Vivian picked up her phone again. Her hands were steady this time.Before she could move, her phone buzzed again. Not a call this time. A video call request. Alexander’s name flashed on the screen.Her thumb hovered over the red decline button. It trembled.Don’t answer, her mind screamed.

INT. BLACKWOOD INDUSTRIES – KATHERINE’S OFFICE – LATERThe room was no longer frozen in panic. Now it buzzed with sharp, nervous energy.Nicholas Hale stood by the table, calm and precise in his tailored suit. Papers were spread everywhere contracts, numbers, projections. Katherine paced back and forth like a trapped animal. Vivian sat stiffly in a chair, eyes locked on Nicholas, her expression guarded. She didn’t trust easy answers.Nicholas ended a quiet phone call and set his phone down. “I’ve spoken to their representative,” he said. “The Ariadne Group is… aggressive. But they’re real. And the money they’re offering is enough to wipe out the Cortez case and fix our worst debt problems.”Katherine stopped pacing. “So they can save us.”Vivian didn’t move. “What’s the price?” she asked sharply.Nicholas met her gaze. “What they call ‘total cooperation.’”Vivian’s jaw tightened. “Meaning?”“A full reset,” he said calmly. “They’ll want the board cleared out. New leadership they app

EXECUTIVE VICE PRESIDENT OFFICE~ NEW YORK Katherine was hunched over her desk, scanning another brutal draft term sheet, when her phone buzzed. Nicholas Hale’s name flashed on the screen. Her stomach gave an odd little flip. She answered.“Hale,” she said, trying for neutral.“Rodriguez. I’ve got news that can’t be explained over email or across a conference table.”“Good news or bad news?” she asked, pen hovering over a clause about asset divestitures.“Depends. Are you still surviving on coffee and sad takeout?”She glanced at the half-eaten container of limp salad at the corner of her desk. “It’s efficient,” she muttered.“That’s a tragedy,” he said. “I’m finishing the counter-offer to Ariadne tonight. I need a second brain to look it over one that doesn’t charge by the hour. Mine. At my place. I’ll cook. You can critique my clauses and my carbonara.”Katherine leaned back in her chair. Dinner. At his place a very bad idea. And yet… it sounded better than anything else in weeks.“