Savage Reborn: Dumped Him to Marry the Billionaire のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

The Thorne Enterprises boardroom smelled of sweat and panic."We’re down twenty-two percent! The liquidity pool is drying up!""Sir, the bank is on line one! They’re demanding a collateral audit!""Sterling Tech just pulled the contract! They cited 'strategic instability'!"Lysander Thorne stood at the head of the massive mahogany table, watching his empire burn in real-time on the sixty-inch monitors. The graphs were a sea of red, jagged lines plunging downward like a heartbeat flatlining."Shut up!" Lysander roared, slamming his fist onto the table. "All of you, shut up!"He looked wild. His tie was gone. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the brace on his wrist where Cyprian had nearly snapped his tendon."It’s a coordinated attack," Lysander spat, pacing like a caged tiger. "It’s Vespera. She’s feeding inside information to Hale. It’s espionage! Call the lawyers! Get an injunction!""We can't, sir," the Chief Legal Officer stammered, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. "Th

The ring light reflected in Vespera’s eyes—two tiny halos of artificial white fire.She sat in the high-backed leather chair of Cyprian’s study, the crimson blazer looking like armor against the dark bookshelves behind her. The laptop camera was on. The red "LIVE" indicator was blinking.Viewer Count: 10,432 Viewer Count: 56,890 Viewer Count: 102,100The numbers climbed vertically. The chat stream on the side of the screen was a blur of toxicity, moving so fast it was impossible to read individual comments.@ThorneArmy: Gold digging snake! @LizzieB: Explain the photo! @User887: Shameless. @TruthSeeker: Why aren't you crying?Vespera waited. She watched the number tick past 250,000. The entire city of Aethelgard—and likely half the gossip columnists on the continent—were watching.She took a sip of water. She adjusted her lapel.Then, she looked directly into the lens."Good afternoon," she said. Her voice was calm, low, and perfectly modulated. "I see a lot of you have questions about

The interrogation room smelled of stale coffee, industrial cleaner, and fear. Usually, the fear belonged to the person handcuffed to the table.Tonight, Vespera Vane suspected the fear belonged to the man sitting across from her.*Clang.*Detective Vance slammed a thick manila folder onto the metal table. The sound echoed off the cinderblock walls.Vespera didn't flinch. She sat perfectly still, her spine straight against the uncomfortable metal chair. She was wearing the midnight-blue tuxedo suit she had bought earlier that day—armor for the battlefield. Her wrists were cuffed in front of her, the cold steel biting into her skin, but she rested her hands on the table as if she were waiting for a manicure, not a prison sentence."You look comfortable," Vance sneered. He was a thick-set man with a stain on his tie and eyes that darted around the room too quickly."I’m bored, Detective," Vespera corrected. Her voice was cool, filling the small room with an air of superiority that made V

CRASH.The sound of three thousand dollars’ worth of Ming dynasty porcelain shattering against the wall echoed through the executive suite of Thorne Enterprises."How did she know?" Lysander screamed.He stood in the center of his office, his chest heaving, his face a mask of sweating, red-faced fury. The room was a disaster zone. Papers were strewn across the Persian rug like fallen leaves. A chair was overturned. The Ming vase was now a pile of blue and white shards near the door.His remaining executives—the few who hadn't resigned or been fired—stood pressed against the wall, looking terrified."Sir," the VP of Sales stammered. "It... it could be a coincidence.""A coincidence?" Lysander laughed. It was a high, thin sound that bordered on hysteria. "We tried to pivot the logistics deal to the Singapore hub secretly. Secretly! I didn't even put it in an email! I wrote it on a notepad!"He pointed a shaking finger at the monitor on his desk."And five minutes before I made the call,

The walk-in closet of the Master Suite was larger than Vespera’s entire apartment in her previous life. It was a cathedral of fashion, lined with backlit glass cabinets and velvet islands.In the center of the room, Vespera stood before a floor-to-ceiling mirror.She wasn't looking at her face. She was looking at the armor.The dress was a custom creation from Maison du Ciel, delivered only an hour ago. It was crimson—a deep, arterial red that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. The silk clung to her body like a second skin, the neckline plunging in a daring V, the back completely open. It was a dress designed to stop hearts and start wars."Red again?"The voice came from the doorway.Vespera didn't turn. She watched in the mirror as Cyprian entered the room. He was already dressed in a tuxedo that fit his broad shoulders with military precision. The black tie was undone, hanging loose around his neck."Beige is for victims," Vespera murmured to her reflection. "Pastel