All Chapters of Rebirth and Contracted to the CEO : Chapter 161 - Chapter 170

Sam's POVLong after Ethan spoke, his sorry hung around like a hum beneath everything else. It stayed there - quiet but sharp - not fading at all.Out by the window in the lounge, I held myself close, eyes fixed on the sea under the moon. Not far off, waves pounded the cliffs - steady, unrelenting - one sound marking how hours pass while emotions stay stuck. He spoke low then, voice cracked open, honesty spilling like water over stones. On his knees, he named each hurt: words too sharp, moments walked past, times Gwen's pull erased what mattered between us back then.He asked if he could be forgiven. Not because he wanted to wipe away what hurt. Not like it hadn’t taken place. Yet still - to start mending where things broke.It made sense at the time. His words settled like dust after a long wind.Each sentence felt true at the time.Yet thinking something true doesn’t mean letting go of hurt.Even now, the past cuts just

Ethan's POVHeavy silence pressed down that night, more so than during any shouting match at work. Not even tense meetings under fluorescent lights compared.Outside the suite door I waited, pulse loud in my ears. She’d stayed there by herself lately, needing room. A single white rose hung limp between my fingers - small thing, yet heavy somehow. Not a ring. Not some showy act. Nothing forced. Only that bloom, plus words I hadn’t dared speak until now.I knocked softly.Inside, she spoke - soft yet firm - a single phrase drifting through the door. “Enter,” it seemed to say, calm and clear.Pushing the door wide, light pooled faintly across the floor. A lone lamp warmed the corners of the sitting area. Outside the glass, the sea caught moonlight while Sam stayed still in its reflection. Her head swiveled when my footstep echoed. Silence hung, built from words we’d swallowed - signed papers, half a year gone, what I admi

Sam's POVOut there, the land unfolded - years pressed into every path. A long walk between who I was and who I’d become.That afternoon, I moved without anyone beside me, sunlight pressing gently against my arms while a thin coolness slipped in from the sea. Guards didn’t hover near - just occasional figures far off, put there by Ethan because he worried. Each turn brought back something sharp: the arched roses tied to the second assault, tucked-away corners where holiday meals used to feel like traps, stone-dusted trails stretching toward the east building - the place I couldn’t leave before.Memories hung in each corner, murmuring echoes of days gone by.Darkness crept through the halls, each room colder than the last. Time slipped sideways when nobody looked my way. Breathing took effort, like pulling air through cloth. Silence stretched longer every evening. A cough echoed once, then nothing. Shadows pooled where light used to fall.

Ethan's POVThe boardroom felt different that morning.Still, the scandal hadn’t faded completely. Rumors clung like static, trailing behind at meetings, lingering near elevators. Reporters kept circling Gwen, Victor, that exposed agreement - questions piling up around the Sterling name. Shares stopped free-falling though they twitched now and then without warning. Voices dipped when I walked by. Not here to argue details. Here instead to piece things back together.At the top of the dark wooden table, I paused while the board members looked on, worn out yet quietly expecting something. Beside me on the right sat Sam - not because tradition demanded it, but because her thinking had pulled the business back from collapse more than once. People didn’t wonder why she was there anymore. They’d have been surprised if she wasn’t.Right away, I skipped the small talk.“Recent events have exposed deep rot within Sterling Indus

Sam's POVSilence filled the private investment area, a calm so deep it felt like money changed hands just by glancing up. A corner seat held me, eyes fixed on slides glowing from the screen in front. Facing me, a founder in her late twenties tapped fingers - alert gaze, restless palms - their battery idea bold yet fragile without support behind it. Her tech aimed high, clean power stored smarter, though funding gaps loomed large.Right away, I noticed what could happen. The moment clicked without delay.Back then, certain tools tripled in worth just under two years once rules changed - something etched deep in memory. Knowing which patents survived came easy. Rivals who’d fail? Clear as morning light. The second aid poured into the field? Already mapped out. This time around, facts from before shaped every move. Everyone here played blind by comparison.Her eyes found mine when I lifted my head.“I’ll invest,” I said calmly. “Two million for fifteen percent equity. With conditions: I