บททั้งหมดของ The Affair Revenge My Bestfriend's Husband Offered Me: บทที่ 101 - บทที่ 110

Tuesday morning, Astera SpireThe lobby was glass and marble and whispers.Nerissa walked through the revolving doors at 8:47 AM. She had not wanted to come. Leo had offered to drive her. She had refused. She needed to do this alone.Her heels clicked against the polished floor. The sound echoed. Heads turned.She kept her eyes forward.“Is that her?” The whisper came from her left. A receptionist. Nerissa did not look.“No wonder she got VP so fast.” Another voice. From the security desk. She kept walking.The elevator bank was ahead. She pressed the button. Waited. The seconds stretched.“She’s shameless.” A man in a suit. He was not even trying to hide his voice. He was standing with a group of executives, coffee cups in hand, watching her like she was a specimen.Nerissa’s jaw tightened. She did not turn.The elevator arrived. The doors opened. She stepped inside. A woman tried to follow her in. Another voice: “Maybe take the next one.” The woman stepped back.The doors closed.Ne

The screen glowed.Vance opened his mouth to speak.The room was silent. The HR directors sat frozen. Mr. Harlow's pen hovered over his folder. Ms. Tan's hands were folded on the table. The young woman in the blue blouse stood by the wall, her eyes fixed on the screen.Nerissa did not blink."Ladies and gentlemen," Vance said. His voice was steady. Controlled. The voice of a man who had rehearsed this speech a hundred times. "Thank you for coming."The cameras zoomed in. Reporters leaned forward. The lights above the podium cast harsh shadows across his face."I am here to address the video that has been circulating. The video that shows me and Ms. Nerissa Sullivan, my Vice President, leaving a hotel room."Beside him, Jovi stood still. Her hand rested on his arm. Her face was pale, but her jaw was set. She looked at the cameras with wide, wet eyes. The perfect picture of a wronged wife.Nerissa's stomach turned."The trip was a business trip," Vance continued. "We were meeting a pote

The boxes were small. One for her personal things. One for the files she had accumulated over months of work.Nerissa looked around the office one last time. The window overlooking the city. The desk where she had spent so many late nights. The chair where Vance had sat when he told her about Project Horizon. She picked up the first box and walked to the door. She did not look back.The elevator took her to the eighth floor. Finance. The carpet was grey. The walls were beige. The cubicles stretched in neat rows, each one identical, each one anonymous. A woman in a sharp blazer greeted her."Ms. Sullivan. I am Margaret. I will show you to your desk."Nerissa hesitated. Sullivan. The name she had carried for five years. The name of the man who had betrayed her. The name she was in the process of shedding."Actually," she said, "I am in the middle of a divorce. I would prefer if you called me Ms. Whitmore."Margaret blinked. "Of course. Ms. Whitmore. This way."They walked through the ro

The eighth floor was quieter than the executive floor. No glass walls. No corner offices. Just rows of cubicles and the low hum of conversation and keyboards. The carpet was grey and worn. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. The air smelled of old coffee and paper.Vance walked through the aisle slowly, his hands in his pockets. He was not supposed to be here. He had no official reason. But he had come anyway.He saw her from a distance.She was sitting in her cubicle, her back to the aisle, her focus on the screen. Her hair was pulled back. Her shoulders were straight. She looked smaller here, somehow. Diminished. The small stone from the lake sat beside her monitor. He recognized it immediately.He stopped. Watched.She did not see him. Her fingers moved across the keyboard. She was working. Just working. As if her world had not collapsed. As if she had not been transferred. As if she had not taken back her maiden name and become someone else.A woman from the next cubicle glanc

She turned around.Her eyes searched his. For what, he did not know. Anger? Pity? Regret? He could not read her. Her face was pale. The city lights flickered behind her.She breathed out. A long, slow exhale. Her shoulders dropped."Do you know how crazy your question sounds after all of this, Mr. Blackwood?"He said nothing. His chest was still heaving from the run. His heart was still pounding."No," she said. "I will not go with you. Certainly not."He slumped. His shoulders fell. He had predicted it. He had known what she would say. But hearing it still hurt. Still cut."Please, stop coming to me again Mr Blackwood" her voice was rough."We need to never cross path like this again. Give me some time. Until I find a new apartment. I will leave your place immediately. The Aerie."He stared at her. His eyes filled with disbelief and raw dissapoinment"You plan to leave?" his voice cracked. "You can stay all you want.""Impossible." She shook her head. "It will only tie me to you. We