Dating My Ex Husband's Billionaire Boss: His Regret のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Ethan’s POV Aria stepped in first, kicking off her heels with a soft thud, leaving them abandoned on the marble like forgotten worries. She walked ahead, barefoot, the hem of her dress swaying against her thighs, my jacket still draped over her shoulders. It was too big for her, but it kept away the cold, it was literally swallowing her frame, yet somehow making her look more mine than ever. She paused in the center of the bedroom and turned, eyes heavy-lidded from wine, lips curved in a slow, intoxicating smile. How can a girl so beautiful ever end up in Brandon's fucked up arms. “Come here,” she whispered, voice low and velvet. I crossed the distance in heartbeats. She met me, rising on her toes, and pressed her body fully against mine. I felt her warm breasts press against me. Then she moved closer, batted her eyes so sexily. God. Each grind was torture and heaven. The heat of her pussy rocked against the rigid cock straining against my trousers, the friction was bu

Aria’s POVThe private jet had been torture in the best way.Ethan’s hand never leaving mine, his thumb tracing slow, hoy circles over my knuckles every time I fidgeted. Each stroke felt like a promise, a reminder of the bathroom this morning: the way his eyes had devoured me, the way my body had wept for him under nothing but his gaze. He knew I hadn’t finished the PowerPoint. Thanks to my fast thinking, I was able to get it done on the way. He knew, and the dark, knowing glint in his eyes every time they met mine told me he was enjoying my quiet panic far too much.Now, in the glass-walled boardroom on the 52nd floor, that panic was a living thing clawing at my throat.The room was a like battlefield. Executives lined the luxurious table like soldiers, laptops open, eyes predatory. At the far end sat a man everyone kept calling....Mike Donova... He had blonde-haired, cold, smiling like he’d already planted a bomb. And beside him, in the seat that should have been empty, was Brand

Sophia’s POVI had always known how to play the part when it mattered most. Some people were born with it, the instinct to bend a moment to their will, to turn weakness into power. I learned early that survival was not about strength, but about timing, expression, and knowing exactly when to break.The hospital room smelled of antiseptic and old fear, the kind that seeped into your skin and refused to leave. I sat in the wheelchair with the blanket pulled tightly around my shoulders, my posture small and fragile. The instant the door opened and Ethan walked in, my face crumpled, my breath hitching as if I had been holding it in for hours.“You came,” I whispered, my voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. Tears gathered in my eyes and spilled over slowly, carefully measured. “I was so scared you wouldn’t.”He stopped just inside the room, hesitation flickering across his face. For a brief, terrifying second, I thought he might turn around. Then he walked toward me, and relief wa

Aria’s POVThe late morning sun dipped low, painting the penthouse balcony in molten gold. I sat on the edge of the lounge chair, knees drawn to my chest, staring at the infinity pool where the water shimmered like liquid sapphire. The gentle brushing cool air across my fingers and my bare arms, but it did nothing to untangle the knot of jealousy and hurt coiled tight in my chest.'You shouldn't be jealous, Ethan can do whatever he wants..' I was so lost in my thoughts I didn’t hear him approach.A warm hand closed around my wrist....gentle yet firm, impossible to ignore. Ethan pulled me to my feet in one fluid motion, drawing me flush against him. The sudden heat of his body against mine stole my breath. His chest rose and fell steadily, the thin fabric of his shirt doing nothing to hide the hard muscle beneath. His cologne hit me and something uniquely him...wrapped around me, intoxicating.My heart slammed against my ribs, a wild, frantic rhythm.I looked up, meeting his storm

Brandon’s POV I slammed the front door behind me harder than I meant to, the sound cracking through the marble hallway like a gunshot. For a brief, petty second, I hoped it would scare someone into silence. Oh boy It didn’t. The house that once felt like a trophy now echoed like a punishment chamber. A place I now avoided after work hours. I missed finding hot meals and running water, but now? I had to cook, clean and wash because my girl, Amelia was pregnant. Aria would have done those things. I thought. She never gave excuses, even after she had her first miscarriage. Every step I took inside it reminded me of how much money I’d sunk into things that didn’t matter....unpolished floors no one respected, glass tables constantly smudged with fingerprints, walls too white, too clean, too empty. From the living room came Richard’s shrill voice, rising and falling in dramatic wails that grated straight into my skull. “No! I don’t want that one! I want the red one! The red o