All Chapters of Married To My Nemesis: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Rhys didn’t expect Hermione to act so boldly. When he stepped into the hall, he found her in the middle of a standoff. People were circling her like sharks, hungry for blood. His jaw tightened. “Ah, a love triangle. Do you think your wife still has feelings for Sterling?” Dean’s voice dropped with amusement from beside him. Rhys didn’t answer. He didn’t know. She’d dated the bastard for five years. She’d cried for him, Rhys had seen it himself. That night, she had stood on her balcony looking down at the pavement like it might solve all her problems. People didn’t do that for someone they didn’t love. But then Hermione started speaking. And something shifted. She stood there, spine straight, and eviscerated them with nothing but words. Polite. Pleasant. Deadly. When she announced she was married, he felt something dangerously close to satisfaction. Then she looked at him. Their eyes locked across the room, and something burned under her gaze, like she was claiming him in f

Rhys sat behind his desk, phone pressed to his ear, watching the morning sun seep through his office window.“Cut all ties with Mr. Walker’s corporation. Every contract, every partnership, I want them gone by morning.” His voice was calm, which made it worse. “And make sure he loses every investment we control. I want to watch his stocks plummet.”A pause as his assistant confirmed.“Good. Maybe that’ll teach him to keep his damn eyes to himself.”He ended the call and dropped the phone on his desk.He was infuriated. The memory of Walker’s gaze crawling over Hermione made his hands curl into fists. He’d wanted to gouge the man’s eyes out right there in the hallway. Instead, he’d smiled, sent Hermione to the car, and handled it like a businessman. Mr. Walker was going to regret ever knowing him.He shook his head and reached for his tablet.The tabloids had exploded, just as expected. His PR team had released an official statement confirming the marriage, but the public was still hung

The luxurious private dining room at Lake Restaurant was designed for men like Rhys Huxley, men who conducted billion-dollar deals over courses most couldn’t name and wines most people couldn’t afford. Crystal chandeliers. White-gloved service. Soundproof walls that kept secrets exactly where they belonged.Rhys sat at the head of the table, listening to Markus Vancroft lay out his expansion plan. The German industrialist had built his automation company from nothing in just eleven years. Now he wanted a foothold in the capital.Rhys was intrigued but cautious.Markus was in his early thirties. His company had expanded across Europe at an aggressive pace. Every major investment firm in the city wanted a piece of Vancroft Automation. Yet Markus had approached them first. “I believe your chain of restaurants would greatly need some of our latest automation. The world is now run by technology. We are offering you high-end automated service systems. Smart ordering stations. Kitchen robot

Rhys stormed into his study, still seething.He knew he’d been harsh, but the image of Hermione with Cole kept replaying behind his eyes, fueling his rage. He felt like destroying something. ‘Maybe I should buy out his company,’ he thought darkly, dropping into his chair. He wanted to strip Cole of everything and watch him and Hermione suffer.He grabbed a stack of paperwork, desperate for a distraction. But the numbers blurred. The words refused to stick. His mind kept drifting back to her face, the way she had looked at him after his accusations. She had looked repulsed.Something lodged in his chest like a shard of glass.Maybe he had overreacted, he thought, but quickly shoved the thought aside and forced his attention back to the documents. Minutes passed, and he still couldn’t concentrate. Finally, he threw down his pen and pushed back from the desk.He needed some air.He grabbed his keys and headed for the door, but he nearly collided with Eunice in the hallway. The housekeep

Hermione was discharged the next day and was brought home. Evelyn and Eunice fussed over her the moment she stepped into the house like she were made of glass. That day, they both prepared a small feast upon their arrival. There were soups, roasts, vegetables, and bread, enough to feed a small army. Evelyn watched with hawk-like satisfaction as Hermione ate. It was the most food Hermione had consumed in months. By the time night fell, exhaustion settled in her bones. They all retired to their rooms. Rhys had prepared a guest room for his mother on the opposite side of the mansion. He cited privacy as the reason, but Hermione knew it was really to keep Evelyn from seeing through their arrangement. Which meant, for the first time, Hermione stepped foot into Rhys’s bedroom. It wasn’t as luxurious or decorated as hers, but it wasn’t plain either. She could tell by the weight of the curtains, the grain of the wood, and the subtle sheen of the bedding that everything was expensive.