Savage Reborn: Dumped Him to Marry the Billionaire のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

The silence in the drawing room was brittle, like glass waiting to shatter.Lysander stood frozen by the fireplace, his face a mask of sweating confusion. He was still trying to calculate the odds of Vespera actually knowing about the "urology appointment" versus it being a lucky guess.Cyprian leaned against the doorframe, watching the chaos with the impassive judgment of a executioner. He caught Vespera’s eye and nodded toward the stairs. *Go. I’ll hold the line.*Vespera didn't look back at the family she was destroying. She turned on her heel and marched up the grand staircase.Her old room was at the end of the hall, the furthest point from the master suite. It was the "Servant’s Quarters" in everything but name.She pushed the door open.The smell hit her instantly—dust, cheap lavender detergent, and sadness. It was the scent of her oppression.Vespera stepped inside. The room was exactly as she had left it three years ago in her memory, or just this morning in this timeline. Th

The Fortress was quiet, but inside Vespera’s head, sirens were screaming.She paced the length of the living room, her heels clicking aggressively against the polished concrete. Every turn was a calculation. Every second that ticked by was a probability variable shifting against her."He has it," Vespera muttered, chewing on her thumbnail. "He’s found it by now. He’s plugging it in."She stopped and spun toward Oryn, who was standing by the window like a gargoyle in a tactical turtleneck."I need a computer," she commanded. "Not a tablet. Not a phone. I need a terminal with root access and a satellite uplink. Now."Oryn didn't blink. He stared at her, assessing the panic in her usually cold eyes."Don't look at me like that," Vespera snapped. "That flash drive isn't just a storage device. It’s the skeleton key to the entire Thorne Empire. It contains the source code for the AI, the backdoors to the offshore accounts, and the uncompiled beta of the new trading algorithm. If Lysander ac

The large monitor on the wall flickered once, then flooded the room with red.Vespera stood back, arms crossed, watching the data stream cascade down the screen. It wasn't code. It was a autopsy report."There," she said, pointing to column G. "That’s the Q3 earnings report they submitted to the board yesterday. It claims a net profit of forty million dollars from the lithium refinery in Nevada."Cyprian sat in his leather chair, his eyes darting across the numbers. He took a sip of whiskey, his expression unreadable."And here," Vespera continued, tapping a key on her phone to overlay a second spreadsheet, "is the actual bank ledger for the subsidiary that owns the refinery. Notice the discrepancy?""Zero," Cyprian murmured. "The refinery generated zero revenue.""Less than zero," Vespera corrected. "It’s been shut down for OSHA violations since May. I created a shell company—'Chimera Logistics'—to invoice Thorne Enterprises for 'transportation services' that never happened. Lysander

"NO!"The scream shredded the silence of the Master Suite.Vespera was drowning in air. The wind roared in her ears, deafening and cold. The city lights were spinning, a kaleidoscope of neon death rushing up to meet her."Don't let go! Lysander, please!"She thrashed against the sheets, her hands clawing at empty space, trying to grab the ledge that wasn't there. Her fingernails tore at the silk, ripping the expensive fabric."Don't push me! I'll sign! I'll sign anything!"The balcony door burst open.A gust of freezing night air swept into the room, carrying the sharp, acrid scent of tobacco.Cyprian Hale didn't hesitate. He dropped the cigarette he had been smoking on the terrace, crushing it under his boot as he sprinted toward the bed.He saw her. A tangle of limbs and terror in the center of the massive mattress. She was convulsing, fighting an invisible enemy. Her face was pale, slick with sweat, her eyes wide open but seeing nothing but the asphalt."Vespera!"He reached her in

*Maison du Ciel* did not have a bell on the door. It didn't need one.If you had to open the door yourself, you couldn't afford to be there.The boutique on Aethelgard’s Platinum Mile was silent, smelling of white tea and money. The glass shelves were sparse, displaying only one item per rack, treating handbags like holy relics.Cyprian Hale sat on a velvet tufted sofa in the center of the showroom. He held a flute of champagne he hadn't touched, his legs sprawled with the careless arrogance of a man who had bought out the entire store for the afternoon."Show Mrs. Hale the Spring Collection," Cyprian commanded the terrified store manager. "And burn anything that is beige."Vespera stood by the triple-pane mirror. She was still wearing the oversized black clothes Oryn had scrounged up for the car ride. She looked like a shadow in a room full of light.A salesgirl named Chloe—young, judgmental, and chewing gum a little too aggressively—sauntered over holding a hanger."For Mr. Hale's..