Semua Bab Signed In Silence : Bab 21 - Bab 30

Wren The flight back to London was quiet, but it wasn't the comfortable silence we had shared in Paris, nor the soft, intimate quiet of our hotel room. This was different. It was colder, heavier, and thick with unsaid words. Leander worked the entire time, his laptop screen casting a pale, sterile glow across his face in the dim cabin light. His fingers moved across the keyboard with a practiced, relentless precision. He didn't look at me once. He didn't speak. From across the aisle, I watched him, waiting for some kind of sign, a brief glance, a softened expression, anything to tell me that Paris had meant something to him. He gave me nothing. I kept telling myself it was fine. I knew the terms of the contract. I knew exactly what I’d signed. Paris had been a beautiful, fleeting detour, a moment suspended in time that was always destined to dissolve the second our plane touched the tarmac in London. It was naive of me to think a change in scenery would permanently change him.

Wren The document sat between us on the dark marble counter, sleek and heavy, its clean white pages catching the sharp light of the kitchen. I stared down at the bold, block letters of the header, my fingers still wrapped tightly around the warm ceramic of my coffee mug. The heat bled into my palms, a desperate contrast to the sudden, icy chill radiating from my chest. "The inheritance transfer requires proof of conception within the next six months," Leander stated flatly, his dark eyes locking onto mine without a single shred of the tenderness he’d shown me hours ago. "We need to schedule the doctor appointments. Today." I blinked, the words echoing in the silence. It felt like a physical blow. The clinical, businesslike detachment was terrifying, completely erasing the man who had sat in the dark with me just last night, anchoring me through the revelation of Vivienne’s pregnancy. "Today?" My voice came out thin, cracking slightly under the sudden weight in the room. "Yes."

WrenIt's been a long week already, yet meetings upon meetings kept flooding over.We got invited again. The invitation to Celeste's mid-summer estate dinner had been non negotiable. A week after our confrontation about Lena, Leander and I stood at the entrance of the grand Voss family manor. The estate was a sprawling masterclass in old money architecture, the formal dining room filled with crystal chandeliers, high-ranking board members, and the quiet murmur of high-stakes gossip. I wore a deep sapphire gown that swept the floor, my hand resting firmly on Leander's arm as we navigated the sea of sharks. Sorren greeted us with a brief nod from across the room, while Celeste held court near the head of the long dining table. For the first hour, everything went exactly according to the corporate script. Leander kept his hand steady against the small of my back, a constant, warm weight that kept me grounded among the whispering executives. "The senior board members are watching yo

Wren The heavy door of the study clicked shut behind me, but the sound felt like a physical strike against my spine. I stood in the long, empty hallway of the penthouse, my hands trembling so violently I had to press my palms flat against the cold wall to steady myself. My chest was tight, my breathing shallow and fast. Eight months. The words repeated in my head, a cruel, mocking loop. He reminded me again that for eight months, he had watched the train wreck of my life play out in slow motion. He had sat in his high tower, looking at spreadsheets of Raphael’s stolen money, tracking the offshore accounts, watching the man I loved build a cage around me. He had known about the lies. He had known about the fraud. And he had let me walk right into the trap. He let me feel the raw, skin-peeling humiliation of walking into my own apartment and finding my fiancé in bed with my half-sister, all because it kept his bait on the hook. I wasn't a partner to him. I wasn't even a

Wren My eyes fluttered open when I felt the sun rays slap my face. I lay still under the heavy duvet, staring at the blank ceiling. I felt different. Memories of what happened last night resurfaced. I felt a chill run through my body. I sat up from the bed, and as usual, the penthouse silence swallowed me. It wasn't the sharp, hostile silence of the last three days, but it wasn't comfortable either. It was a fragile, trembling space, like a glass bridge that had just been repaired but hadn't been tested yet. My skin still tingled where Leander’s hand had rested against my cheek the night before. A deep flush of red crawled on my skin. I had given him a chance. I had thrown him a lifeline, but as I lay there in the cold morning light, a wave of panic began to squeeze my lungs. Had I been too soft? Had I let his vulnerability blind me to the reality of what he had done? He was still the man who had kept me in the dark. He was still the machine who valued his legacy a