All Chapters of THE TERMS OF OUR MARRIAGE : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The club’s lights pulsed against the beat of the music, a rhythm that once energized Elena, but tonight it felt like a storm closing in. She moved behind the bar, pouring drinks and wiping down counters with meticulous care, her mind still buzzing from the previous night’s chaos and what happened with that customer earlier. She barely had time to breathe before it happened again.The same man who had tried to grope her earlier that evening, lurked near the edge of the bar, eyes gleaming with entitlement. He moved closer, this time more forcefully, reaching toward her with a smirk that screamed confidence in his presumed power over her.Elena froze. Her hands were busy, her defenses down, so there was nothing in reach to protect herself. The panic rose immediately, chest tight, and her fingers visibly trembling.Before the situation could escalate, a shadow loomed behind the man. It was Adrian under Marcus’ restraint.He didn’t hesitate. The moment the man’s hands made contact with Ele

Elena’s heels clicked against the cold pavement, each step carrying the weight of humiliation, anger, and exhaustion. She didn’t dare glance back, even as the night air whipped around her. She had fought, defended herself, survived the chaos, but it had cost her more than she expected. Every nerve in her body screamed at her to leave, to put as much distance as possible between herself and the man who had become both her frustration and her storm.Then just as she was about to hail a cab to convey her to her destination, out of nowhere, she felt a sudden thud in her chest, not from her own heart, but from a pair of shoes pounding the pavement behind her. She spun around, startled, eyes wide, and froze.It was Adrian. He was running full tilt, not caring about the polished city streets, the people around, or the formalities that normally governed his life. Hair slightly mussed, suit jacket flaring with each stride, eyes locked onto her. The sight made her step back, fear and irritati

Adrian lay awake in his mansion, the dark of the room pressing down like a weight. The night was silent except for the faint hum of the city outside, but inside, his mind was anything but quiet. He had replayed the entire bar incident over and over, each moment with Elena burned into him: her shaking hands, the way her chest heaved, the tears she had fought to hold back.He had meant to help. He had wanted to protect her. But somehow, he had made everything worse. His chest tightened, guilt twisting through him in sharp, bitter spirals. How could he have misjudged her so completely? How could he have mistaken her selflessness, her courage, for recklessness?He stared at the ceiling, silent prayers forming on his lips, whispering in a language he had almost forgotten. Not for himself. Not for pride. But for her, for her safety, her peace, for the chance to make amends.“Please,” he murmured, voice low, hoarse from long hours of tension, “call me. Let me fix this. Just… let me make it r

The next morning, Elena opened her door to a scene that made her blink in disbelief. She heard a knock on her door and when she went to answer, she saw boxes. They were dozens of them lined in front of her apartment. Each one carefully wrapped, labeled in neat handwriting she didn’t recognize, but which somehow made her pulse quicken with curiosity.The delivery man said they were from Adrian, as he beckoned on her to sign. Her first instinct was to toss them aside, to shove them back into the delivery van, and refuse it. But curiosity, that dangerous, stubborn trait, won. She knelt beside the nearest box and carefully tore off the wrapping. Inside were shoes, pairs of them, some elegant heels, others practical but undeniably chic.Another box held dresses in soft fabrics and bold colors, carefully chosen, labeled with her initials. This labelling greatly confused her as these dresses were from the Vale Atelier. Perfumes followed, a collection that made her nose flare with surprise a

The limousine purred quietly down the city streets, its sleek black exterior reflecting the afternoon sun like a polished gemstone. Inside, Adrian sat with a small bouquet of pale pink roses in his hand, perfectly arranged, each bloom pristine. Beside him, in the compartment he had insisted be chilled just for her, rested a small box of chocolates and a single bottle of wine, the type she had once said she liked when they had spoken briefly at the club.He glanced at his watch, checking the time. Punctuality was non-negotiable, a lesson drilled into him over years of boardrooms, stock exchanges, and power meetings. Today, however, punctuality had a new weight. It was one that carried responsibility, deceit, and the delicate threads of a story they had both agreed to tell.The phone buzzed lightly beside him. Elena. He allowed himself a faint smile before picking it up."I just got your email of the backstory. It has so much details. I’ll read it properly at the spa or on our way there