Lahat ng Kabanata ng The CEO I Insulted Is Now My Boss : Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

The slow melody drifted across the beach as the DJ switched from upbeat house tracks to something softer. Emma had been standing by the edge of the dance floor, nursing a half-empty glass, when Jerry appeared beside her. "Dance with me," he said. It wasn't a question. Before Emma could respond, his hand closed around hers and guided her into the middle of the sand-covered dance floor. Couples swayed around them, the glittering lights from the beach house reflecting in the waves. Emma’s pulse raced. She knew she needed to tell him about what happened with Isla. "Jerry, listen—" she started, her voice low. He shook his head and pulled her a little closer. "Whatever it is, it can wait. I've been trying to get you alone all day. Just tell me you're having a good time." "But Isla—" "Isla is not ruining this moment." His jaw tightened for a second. Then his expression softened as he looked down at her. "I don't get to relax very often. And when I do, I want to do it with you."

The drive to the hospital was a blur of streetlights and silence. Emma sat in the back seat of Jackson's car, her hands still stained with Beth's blood, staring blankly at the passing buildings. Kristie was beside her, holding her arm, and Luan sat in the front, occasionally glancing back with worried eyes. Nobody spoke. The weight of what had happened pressed down on them like a heavy fog. When they finally pulled into the hospital's emergency entrance, the scene outside was chaotic. A cluster of photographers and reporters had already gathered, their cameras flashing like a storm of lightning. They pressed against the barriers, shouting questions no one could answer. "Is that the family?" "Is the girl stable?" "Can you confirm the identity?" Jackson pulled up as close as he could, and a security guard waved them toward a side entrance. Emma practically stumbled out of the car, her legs weak and unsteady. Luan caught her elbow and guided her forward. The flashes from the ca

When Emma finally got home, the apartment smelled like pizza and candle wax. Luan and Kristie were sprawled on the couch, half-empty plates in their hands. The TV was muted, but the closed captions were running Beth's story across the bottom of the screen. "Any news?" Kristie asked immediately. Emma shook her head, collapsing onto the armchair. "Nothing. She's still unconscious." "God," Luan said softly. "I barely knew her, but she was so sweet. At the party, she came over and asked if I was having a good time. Like, genuinely cared. She didn't have to do that." Kristie nodded. "Same. She made everyone feel welcome. It's so unfair." Emma pulled off her shoes and tucked her legs underneath her. "She's going to wake up. She has to." They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the day settling over them. Eventually, Emma pushed herself up and headed to the bathroom. "I'm going to take a shower," she said. "I can't think straight." "Take your time," Kristie called after her. "We

The sound of those words hung in the air between them like a beating heart. Emma watched Jerry's face in the dim light — the vulnerability, the hunger, the flicker of something deeper that he rarely let anyone see. And when she whispered back, *"Then have me,"* something shifted in him. For a heartbeat, Jerry didn't move. He just looked at her, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths, like he was memorizing the exact shade of her eyes in the low light. Then his hand came up slowly, almost reverently, and traced the curve of her cheek. His thumb brushed across her lower lip, tugging it down ever so slightly. "You're sure?" he asked, his voice barely above a rasp. "I'm sure," Emma whispered. That was all he needed. Jerry lowered himself onto her, and the weight of his body pressed her deeper into the mattress. His mouth found hers again — not desperate this time, but deliberate. He kissed her like he wanted to learn every inch of her lips. His tongue swept against

The apartment felt smaller than usual when Emma finally stumbled through the door. She kicked off her heels without bothering to put them away, let her purse slide off her shoulder onto the floor, and collapsed onto the couch with a heavy sigh. The ceiling stared back at her, blank and indifferent.Four days. Four days since the accident. Four days since she had woken up in Jerry's bed, made the worst decision of her life, and walked out. Four days since she had told the only man she had ever truly cared about that what they shared was a mistake.She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. Work had been a special kind of torture. Jerry had come back to the office three days ago, composed and professional, wearing his expensive suits like armor. He didn't glance at her. Didn't acknowledge her presence. He spoke to her only through emails and through Lucy. When she entered a room, he left it. When he needed documents, she left them on his desk and retreate