Todos os capítulos de Married To My Billionaire Nemesis: Capítulo 61 - Capítulo 70

EDEN I hesitate for one more second, then I hit the accept button and put it on speaker before I can change my mind. "Eden?" Dad's voice is terribly strained, like he's been crying. "Baby girl? Are you there?" I swallow the lump in my throat. "Yeah, Dad. I'm here." A long, shaky exhale crackles through the line. "Your mother told me you're home. She said they let you out of the hospital. I... I needed to hear your voice and make sure you're really okay." "I'm okay," I say. "I’m tired. But okay. The doctor said it's just a mild concussion and dehydration. Fluids fixed most of it." There’s a brief pause between us. "I can't stop thinking about it," he says softly. "That photo and the article. I can’t get past the way you looked at seventeen—wrapped in a sheet, your eyes filled with so much pain. And him... sitting right there in the hospital room like he had any right to be near you. I keep seeing it. I can't unsee it." Hayden clenches his fist and slowly turn

EDEN I'm dressed in a simple black high-waisted trousers and a fitted cream blouse tucked in, my hair pulled into a sleek low bun. Professional but soft. Ready for my first day of culinary class. Right now, I’m in my kitchen though. The second I hear Hayden approaching, a smile tugs at my lips. Two weeks have passed since the yacht. The black eye is gone, faded to nothing more than a faint shadow under good lighting. His lip has healed. The bruises on his ribs are hidden now beneath the impeccable charcoal black three-piece suit he's wearing today. His black tie is perfectly knotted, his cufflinks glinting. His hair is swept back, still slightly damp. God, he smells so good. He's humming under his breath when he steps up behind me. "Morning, squirrel," he says, his voice velvet-smooth. "Something smells dangerously good in here." Before I can answer, his arms slide around my waist. He pulls me back against the solid wall of his chest, his chin

HAYDEN The office door opens without a knock. I look up from the contract I've been pretending to read for the last twenty minutes. I’d kept it unlocked just for her. And there she is— Shit. Eden is shaking. Her eyes are wide, her pupils dilated, and her cheeks are flushed from the cold or fear or both. Her coat is still on, her hair wind-whipped across her face. I'm on my feet before I register moving. The chair scrapes back hard. "Eden—" She doesn't speak. She just crosses the room in three fast steps and crashes into me. My arms close around her automatically, I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in. She's shaking so badly, it alarms me. "Hey," I murmur, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other rubbing slow circles between her shoulder blades. "Hey, baby. I've got you. Breathe." She doesn't answer right away. She continues to cling to me, her fingers digging into the back of my shirt. I walk us backwards until the back of my legs hit the

HAYDEN The boardroom is silent except for the low hum of the projector and the voice of Eddison Barrows, our head of European acquisitions, droning in front of the slides. "...projected ROI of 18.4% over five years, with synergies in logistics and supply chain integration. The valuation multiple we're offering is aggressive but justified given the market position—" I lean back in my chair and let the silence linger just long enough for him to notice. "Eddison," I say calmly, cutting him off mid-sentence. "You're quoting last quarter's numbers on a market that shifted six weeks ago. The new EU tariffs went into effect. Their logistics costs are up 27%. Their biggest client just signed with our competitor. And you're still using a 12x EBITDA multiple?" He falters, sweat beading at his temple. “Sir, the model accounts for—" "The model is optimistic fiction," I reply. "You're presenting a $2.1 billion acquisition based on assumptions that were already outdated bef

EDEN The faint, rhythmic sound of something soft hitting the floor over and over reaches my ear as I head downstairs in search of Hayden. Guilt is tearing me apart on the inside. I follow the sounds carefully. The living room is dark except for the cold blue glow from the lamp. He's on the rug in front of the fireplace, curled into the smallest shape a grown man can make. His knees are pressed to his chest, his forearms locked around his head. His hands are clamped over his ears so hard that his knuckles are white. His breathing sounds painful. "Hayden?" My voice cracks. He doesn't respond or acknowledge me at all. I drop to my knees beside him. "Baby... hey... it's me." His rocking doesn't slow down. If anything, it gets faster and more desperate. My own panic rises in my throat. I reach for him slowly, my palms open. When my fingers brush his shoulder, he jerks, curling tighter and rocking harder. "Okay," I whisper, mostly to myself. "Okay. No sudden