I Married the Man My Ex Could Never Compete With のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 91 - チャプター 100

Lydia POV The news breaks before breakfast. I know something is wrong the moment I walk into the kitchen. The television is already on. One of the staff must have turned it there out of habit, but the tone of the anchor’s voice is sharp in a way that makes the room feel colder. Damien is standing near the counter with a cup of coffee he hasn’t touched. And Adrian is watching the screen. Completely still. Which is how I know the situation is bad. I stop halfway across the room. “What happened?” No one answers immediately. That’s worse. I follow Adrian’s gaze to the television. The headline running across the bottom of the screen makes my stomach tighten. NEW QUESTIONS ABOUT THE COLE FAMILY INHERITANCE The anchor continues speaking. “New documents obtained by investigative reporters suggest potential irregularities surrounding the inheritance transfer that placed Adrian Cole in control of the Cole family assets fifteen years ago.” My chest tightens. I look back at Adri

Lydia POV The estate feels different in the afternoon. Not quieter exactly. Just heavier. Like the walls are listening. Ever since the attempted kidnapping, Adrian’s security protocols have turned this place into something between a fortress and a prison. Gates. Cameras. Biometric locks. Guards who appear silently at the edges of hallways. I understand why he did it. But understanding something doesn’t make the isolation feel normal. I’m in the library again when the message arrives. Damien steps inside without knocking, which already tells me this isn’t routine. “There’s someone here to see you,” he says. “Me?” “Yes.” “That’s unusual.” “Very.” I close the financial report on the tablet in front of me. I’ve been trying to understand Cole Group’s shareholder structure for the past hour, but the numbers keep blurring together. “Who is it?” I ask. Damien hesitates for half a second. “Daniel Cho.” I blink. One of Adrian’s board members. “Why would he come here?” “He di

Adrain POV The call comes just after midnight. I’m still in the study when Damien walks in without knocking, which means whatever he’s about to say isn’t routine. He closes the door behind him. “That was fast,” I say. “Too fast.” I lean back slightly in the chair. “What did you find?” Damien places a tablet on the desk and turns it toward me. “I finished tracing the Arclight communication chain.” “And?” “Someone inside the board has been feeding Richard information for years.” That part doesn’t surprise me. War at this level rarely happens without someone opening the gates from the inside. “What kind of information?” I ask. “Board strategy.” “Voting discussions.” “Private financial planning.” “Anything else?” “Your acquisition plans.” My jaw tightens slightly. Those plans were confidential. Only a handful of people ever saw them. “How far back does this go?” I ask. Damien hesitates. “Five years.” That answer lands heavier than I expected. Five years means th

Adrian POV The first vote lands harder than it should. Against me. I don’t react. Not outwardly. But I feel it settles into the room, shifting the balance. One decision already made. One line drawn. Across the table, Richard doesn’t move. He doesn’t smile either. That’s what makes it worse. He expected this. The board secretary’s voice cuts cleanly through the silence. “We will proceed with the second vote.” No one speaks. No one moves except the next director. Elena Vasquez. She’s been on the board for three years. Careful. Analytical. Never reckless with her decisions. She doesn’t look at me. She doesn’t look at Richard. Her attention stays fixed on the tablet in front of her. But I notice the slight pause in her hand. Hesitation. Good. That means she’s thinking. The worst votes are the easy ones. The ones made without doubt. Elena exhales slowly. Then taps the screen. The sound is quiet. Almost insignificant. But in this room, it might as well be a guns

Adrian POV By the time the third vote settles against me, the pattern is clear. Not the outcome. The rhythm. Richard isn’t reacting to the votes. He’s waiting. That’s the part most people would miss. They’d focus on the numbers. Two against. One for. Four remaining. But numbers are only surface-level. Control sits underneath. And right now— He thinks he has it. I lean back slightly in my chair, letting the silence stretch just a fraction longer than comfortable. The board expects tension. They expect defensiveness. They expect me to start pushing. I don’t. Instead, I let them sit in it. Let them feel the uncertainty building in the room. Because uncertainty is leverage. And right now— It’s the only thing not fully under Richard’s control. The secretary prepares to call the next vote. “Before we proceed,” I say. My voice cuts cleanly through the room. Not raised. Not urgent. Just enough to stop everything. Seven heads turn toward me. Even Richard shifts