Todos os capítulos de MARRIED TO THE CEO BY CONTRACT: Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

Elara had never wanted a spotlight.Influence, yes. Reach, yes. Impact, absolutely.But visibility, the kind that demanded commentary, interpretation, and distortion, had always felt like noise rather than progress.That illusion ended on a Monday morning.The notification arrived before her coffee cooled.LIVE PANEL ANNOUNCEMENT: “Power, Philanthropy, and the New Face of Corporate Ethics.”Her name was listed beneath the title.Not as a guest.As a speaker.She stared at the screen.“Sofia,” she called.Sofia appeared almost immediately, phone already in hand.“Tell me that’s not real.”“It’s real,” Sofia said. “And it’s trending.”Elara exhaled slowly.“Who approved this?”“No one asked,” Sofia replied. “They framed it as a response to public interest.”Public interest.A phrase that translated neatly into pressure.The panel was scheduled for that evening.Too soon to decline without appearing evasive. Too public to ignore without consequence.“They’re forcing a narrative,” Elara s

Elara cleared her evening deliberately.No laptop.No documents spread across the dining table.No background noise pretending to be comfortable.When Alessandro’s face appeared on the screen, framed by the familiar lines of his Milan apartment, she felt the subtle shift in her chest – the recognition that this conversation mattered in a way others didn’t.“You look… still,” he said.“I made time,” Elara replied. “For once.”He nodded. “Me too.”Silence followed not awkwardly, but weighted. The kind that existed because both people knew they were standing at the edge of something important and neither wanted to step first.Elara did anyway.“We’ve been efficient,” she said. “Lately.”Alessandro’s expression tightened slightly. Not defensive. Attentive.“That’s one word for it.”“We exchange updates,” she continued. “Progress reports. Logistics. It works. But it’s not… us.”His gaze held hers through the screen. “What do you think ‘us’ is right now?”The question wasn’t a challenge. It

The invitation arrived without branding.No foundation logo.No corporate watermark.No familiar institutional tone.Just a name, a date, and a request.Elara noticed the difference immediately.She read the email once, then again slower the second time.Dr Isabelle MoreauDirector, Helios Civic InstituteParisElara had crossed paths with Isabelle only twice before. Both times brief. Both times were memorable. Isabelle was known for one thing above all else: independence. Helios didn’t partner easily. It didn’t bend to political pressure. And it certainly didn’t align itself with corporate dynasties.Which meant this wasn’t a courtesy.It was interesting.The message was concise.I’ve followed your work for some time. Recent developments have only clarified my interest. If you’re willing, I’d like to discuss a role one defined entirely outside existing affiliations.Elara felt something shift in her chest.Not excitement.Recognition.She didn’t forward the email to Alessandro immedi

The fallout did not announce itself.It didn’t arrive with scandal or accusation.It arrived with silence.Elara noticed it before breakfast.Her phone normally alive with layered conversations, updates, and quiet confirmations was still. No overnight briefings. No contextual summaries from Helios. No informal check-ins from contacts who usually operated in the margins.Silence like this wasn’t peace.It was a recalculation.She sat at the small dining table, coffee untouched, watching the city wake below. Alessandro moved quietly behind her, adjusting his cufflinks with deliberate care, as though routine might anchor what neither of them could undo now.“They’ve begun,” he said calmly.“Yes,” Elara replied. “They’re deciding where to place us.”He glanced at her. “Or whether to isolate us.”She turned slightly, studying his expression. He looked composed, but there was something sharper underneath it now. Not tension.Readiness.“This is faster than I expected,” she said.“Because ne

The email arrived without preamble.No institutional header.No forwarded chain.No implied pressure.Just a name Elara hadn’t seen in years.Dr Amara KeeneShe opened it slowly, instinctively aware that some messages altered trajectory the moment they were read.Elara,I’ve been following your recent work—and the silence around it. I’m forming an independent policy institute. Not adjacent to Helios. Not funded by its usual partners. I want you to lead it.This isn’t a refuge. It’s a platform.If you’re interested, let’s talk.Elara sat very still.This wasn’t a consolation prize.It wasn’t a lateral move.It was a departure.Her phone buzzed almost immediately after Isabelle.“You got it too, didn’t you?” Isabelle asked without greeting.“Yes.”Isabelle exhaled. “They’re moving faster than I expected.”“So is she,” Elara replied.“Amara doesn’t wait for permission,” Isabelle said. “That’s why she still exists.”Elara smiled faintly. “That’s why this matters.”The rest of the day pass