บททั้งหมดของ THE JANITOR'S DAUGHTER: Mistress for the CEO: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

Queen Dylan did not believe in leaving things to chance.Ever since that disastrous dinner—voices raised, pride bruised, truths dangerously close to spilling—she had taken it upon herself to ensure that nothing slipped further out of control. If Davis and Elena were going to fall apart, it would not be on her watch. So she inserted herself relentlessly. Although she maintained a facade of regal composure in public, the anxiety thrummed beneath her skin like a live wire. She needed this union. She needed the stability of the Dylan name to remain untarnished by the whispers of scandals or broken engagements.And when that wasn’t enough, she orchestrated appearances. Charity events. Political luncheons. Foundation launches. Anywhere that required cameras—and where Davis and Elena could be seen side by side, smiling like nothing was wrong.“Stand closer,” she would whisper sharply behind her polished smile. “The press is watching.”Elena would comply.Davis moved through these events lik

Elena kept both hands firmly on the steering wheel, her fingers tightening and loosening in restless intervals as she pulled into the quiet street. The engine hummed beneath her, but her mind was far louder—crowded, suffocating. When she finally parked, she didn’t step out immediately. She just sat there, staring ahead, gathering the courage she wasn’t sure she had.She checked her rearview mirror out of habit, half-expecting to see a black sedan with tinted windows tailing her, but the street was empty. Elena finally stepped out, the cool evening air biting at her skin.She wasn't at a conference. The lie she had fed the receptionist at the clinic felt like a heavy stone in her pocket, but it was a necessary weight. Lately, Elena felt like a crab stripped of its shell, forced to stand under the blistering heat of a sun she hadn't asked for. Ever since her public association with the Dylans, her life no longer felt like hers. Every move, every decision—it all felt watched, weighed, j

The city blurred into a streak of charcoal and amber as the black sedan navigated the evening traffic. Inside, Davis sat in a silence so thick it felt tangible. He leaned his forehead against the cool glass of the window, his mind a chaotic loop of his father’s advice and the hollow in his chest that had become his constant companion."Miss Chelsea says you have got to stop drinking."João’s voice, steady and devoid of its usual hesitation, cut through Davis’s thoughts like a serrated knife. Davis snapped his head toward the front, staring sharply at the back of João’s head from the passenger's seat. His heart, which had been beating in a slow, whiskey-induced rhythm, suddenly hammered against his ribs."She said that?" Davis asked, his voice surging with a desperate eagerness. He leaned forward."What else did she say? João, tell me—how is she? How did she look?"João kept his eyes fixed on the road, but his shoulders seemed to drop an inch. "She says you should stop sending me to lo

As Elena pulled her car into the familiar driveway, the scent of blooming jasmine and freshly turned earth greeted her. Elena had rehearsed the conversation a dozen times in her head on her way over, yet none of those versions prepared her for how small she suddenly felt standing at her mother’s front door. The conversation with Davis had been a revelation, a sudden shedding of a heavy skin she hadn’t realized was suffocating her. But Davis was only half the battle.The house looked exactly the same—neat hedges, freshly swept porch, the faint scent of jasmine that always lingered in the air. It was a place that had always meant safety. She lifted her hand and knocked.The door swung open almost immediately. Helen was a woman of soft edges and warm colors, her face lighting up with a radiant, uncomplicated joy.“Elena!” her mother exclaimed, her face lighting up with genuine delight. “Oh, my goodness, look at you!” Helen cried gently, pulling her daughter into a hug that smelled of l

Davis continued to move with an air of forlorn about him. For three weeks, the routine had not changed. Every morning before the corporate elevator at Dylan Corp could swallow him whole, and every evening before the penthouse doors could shut him in, Davis would lean over the partition or look into the rearview mirror to meet João’s stoic, exhausted eyes."Anything?" Davis’s voice had lost its edge.João didn't look back this time. He kept his large hands at ten-and-two on the steering wheel, his jaw tightening slightly. "Nothing, boss. The neighbors haven't seen any movement since the night she left. I had to check the state transit registries for any long-distance bus tickets matching her father’s social, but... it’s a blind alley. She is using cash if she is moving."Davis slouched back, the heavy wool of his overcoat feeling like a lead weight against his chest. He closed his eyes, his knuckles tapping an erratic, nervous rhythm against his knee. "I don't think she will leave th