บททั้งหมดของ Betrayed, I Become The CEO'S Contracted Bride: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

The Grand Ballroom at the Celestine Hotel was packed wall to wall with the best minds in pharmaceutical research. Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, casting warm light across round tables draped in white linen. Elara Vance sat at table twelve, her hands folded in her lap beneath the tablecloth where no one could see them shake. She wore a silk emerald dress that she had bought three weeks ago specifically for tonight. Tonight, when they would announce the lead scientist behind the Aethelgard Formula. Tonight, when three years of her life would finally mean something. "Ladies and gentlemen," the MC said from the stage, his voice booming through the sound system. "It is my distinct honor to present this year's Golden Gala Award for Excellence in Pharmaceutical Innovation." Elara's heart hammered against her ribs. She gripped the edge of the table. "The lead scientist behind the groundbreaking Aethelgard Formula, which promises to revolutionize the treatment of degen

Elara spent the night on a bench in Riverside Park. She couldn't afford a hotel. Her credit cards had been declined when she tried, frozen probably, pending some kind of fraud investigation Marcus had no doubt initiated. When dawn broke gray and cold over the city, she walked to the nearest coffee shop. She used the last of her cash to buy a small black coffee and sat in the corner booth with her phone. The news had exploded overnight. "Disgraced Scientist's Meltdown at Golden Gala" was trending on three different platforms. The videos had been viewed millions of times. Someone had created a hashtag: #AethelgardMeltdown. She scrolled through the coverage with a kind of detached horror. Then she saw it. A new article, posted two hours ago. "Medical Records Reveal Troubled History of Researcher Who Disrupted Gala." A low, involuntary sound, a ragged gasp, escaped her. Her hands went numb. She clicked the link. The article, loaded with images of medical documents, patient recor

The Starlight Motel on the edge of downtown cost fifty-eight dollars a night. The room smelled of stale cigarette smoke, institutional bleach, and the lingering scent of desperation. The carpet was a tapestry of ancient stains, and the brown bedspread looked like it had not been laundered since the last presidential election. ​Elara locked the door with a loud, final click and leaned her forehead against the wood. “​I guess this is what I've been reduced to,” she whispered to the peeling paint. “Scrimping on money for a sanctuary of grime while Marcus enjoys the luxury of our apartment. No, his apartment now. I suppose the restraining order made that very clear.” ​She sat on the edge of the bed, the cheap mattress springs groaning in a sharp, metallic protest. She pulled her phone from her pocket, her thumb hovering over the glass as the screen lit up. ​You look pathetic in those videos. Crazy bitch. Get help. She deleted them without reading past the first few words, the dig

Day three. Elara woke to eleven missed calls and a voicemail from a number she almost didn't recognize. She played it on speaker while splashing cold water on her face in the motel bathroom. "Elara, it's James Chen. From the lab." A pause. The sound of him clearing his throat. "Look, I heard what happened. I'm sorry. I really am." Another pause, longer this time. "I can't return your calls. HR sent out a memo this morning. Anyone who contacts you publicly is subject to disciplinary action. That includes phone calls." The line went dead. Elara dried her face with a rough paper towel and looked at herself in the mirror. The dark circles under her eyes had deepened overnight. A pimple had appeared on her jaw, the kind that came from stress and no sleep and eating nothing but vending machine food. She turned off the tap and sat on the edge of the bathtub. HR had sent a memo. They'd made it official. Anyone who talked to her became a liability. Marcus hadn't just destroyed her reput

The city lights blurred past the tinted windows. Rain hammered the roof in a steady rhythm. Elara sat in silence. She was still dripping onto the floor. Her wet clothes clung to her skin. She didn't apologize. Alexander Thorne watched her from the opposite seat. His steel-gray eyes assessed her with complete focus. "You look terrible, Doctor Vance," Thorne said. "Thank you for the observation," Elara said. Her teeth were chattering. She clenched her jaw to stop it. Thorne reached beneath his seat and pulled out a folded blanket. Cashmere. Charcoal gray. He held it out. Elara took it. She wrapped it around her shoulders. The warmth was immediate and overwhelming. "Better?" Thorne asked. "I've been worse." "Doubtful." His face was all hard angles. Sharp jawline. High cheekbones. Dark hair starting to gray at the temples. He looked like someone who had never begged for anything. "Marcus used to talk about you," Elara said. Thorne's expression didn't change. "Wh