บททั้งหมดของ Rebirth and Contracted to the CEO : บทที่ 171 - บทที่ 180

Sam's POVAfter the contract deadline came and went, nothing was turned in. Each day moved slow, like stepping onto untouched soil - wobbly, thin ice underfoot, yet somehow softer than the jagged dread that once weighed every breath.Those papers stayed untouched. Left in the lawyer's drawer, not shredded, not sorted. Just sitting there, really, like a quiet pause in a long conversation. While he - the one who caused so much hurt before - kept showing up differently now, softer somehow, trying to mend what broke. Closing that door felt too soon.Out of nowhere, movement started - slow. Hesitant touches at first. Not a word about labels or futures. Silence did most of the talking. Step by step, distance shrank between us.Meals together in that small dining space settled into something steady. Not one word about work pushed on us, nor any demand to feel close. Food sat between us, talk drifted, we began noticing how the other moves through moments again. That night, plates filled with

Sam's POVA slip of thick paper arrived in the hands of an older maid, her fingers steady. Written plainly but neatly was the request, signed with sharp curves typical of Mrs. Evelyn Sterling.“Samantha, if you are willing, I would like to speak with you privately in the family parlor this afternoon. No one else will be present. - Evelyn”Staring at the paper, time slowed inside my quiet room, fingertips brushing over smooth handwriting. Back then, a message like this would’ve tightened my chest. From day one, Mrs. Evelyn stayed distant - sharp in manner, always pulling back, treating me like someone who didn’t belong, placed there only because of an old man’s final deal. Not once did she shout, yet her quiet moments, her careful words, carved out a space where I constantly felt less.Back then, change had already taken hold.Now they started noticing me more. A quiet respect grew, bit by bit. Still, an invite from Mrs. Evelyn meant something real. Not just small talk over cups. It pu

Sam's POVA hush settled in when the sun came up, though everything pointed to noise. Quiet filled the air where shouts should have been.Golden light slipped between the curtain gaps, pale across the room, like morning forgot how heavy my ribs felt. Awake long before sunrise, pulse sprinting ahead without permission, I stayed flat under sheets, watching ceiling cracks form shapes. The twelve-month deal ran out today - counted down every second since waking up different on that plane seat, blinking into new life. Freedom waited now, paid in full, lined with cash, beyond reach.Up I got, slow and steady, slipping on a plain white shirt, black pants hanging quiet against my skin - no show, no shield. Just flesh, bone, breath. Hair gathered loosely behind, fingers brushing the ends before letting go. Mirror showed her: eyes wider now, shoulders set different. Not the girl who faded out in some forgotten hallway. This one reshaped the old law name, made money speak

Sam's POV“Wait. You’re really going to let me walk away?”Out came my voice, breaking right at the end, rough and shaky inside that thick quiet. There he stood, Ethan, caught mid-step by the doorway, fingers gripping the knob, shoulders pulled tight. Not one breath shifted between us for a long stretch. On the desk sat those papers, signed through, each set lying flat - mine, his - the ink still new, sharp, dangerous.He turned slowly.His expression almost broke me apart.Stillness filled the room instead of arguments. Not rage, not bargaining - only silence thick with understanding. Tears cut slow lines over his face, unbothered by hands reaching to wipe them. Red edges framed his gaze, proof of nights spent awake. Weight pressed down on him like wet stone, yet he stood upright. This was surrender shaped like strength. A decision once trembled over now held firm, worn into bone.“Yes,” he whispered again, voi

Sam's POV“I think… I’ve already decided.”Out came the words, no time to stop them. There he was - Ethan - stiff by the doorway, back rigid, gaze glistening but holding steady. On the desk sat those papers, signed now, quiet as a truth long avoided.Forward I moved, one foot after the other. Shaky they were, those steps, yet steady in purpose. Not since long ago had my chest carried such quiet certainty.My eyes met his. Actually stayed there.He stood there, quiet, when the paper time ran out. This was not that version - the one who dropped promises like hot stones. Not the boss with cold eyes, turning blind while Gwen slipped something bitter into my days. Nothing about contracts tying hands anymore. Here, he just waited, letting go instead of grabbing hold.And I saw him.He was there when the car crashed, shielding me like a wall made of flesh and bone. When blood dripped from my sleeve in that quiet libr