The Rejected Wife's Secret Empire のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

The wall clock in the executive bullpen ticked with agonizing slowness. Eleven o'clock. Twelve o'clock. One o'clock.Four straight hours. That was exactly how long Aryan had been standing completely frozen outside the glass doors of his former office. The heavy cashmere coat draped over his forearm felt like it was made of solid lead, dragging his shoulder down and tearing at the raw, bleeding skin underneath his makeshift bandages.His legs were no longer just numb; they were actively failing. Violent muscle spasms shot up his calves, making his knees buckle slightly before he violently locked them back into place. His cheap uniform was soaked in cold sweat, sticking uncomfortably to his spine. The sheer lack of food and water was rapidly destroying his cognitive functions. The busy office around him sounded like a muted, underwater echo.Execs and assistants walked past him constantly. Some averted their eyes in pity. Others, the ones he had ruthlessly disciplined in the past, openl

The heavy metal doors of the service elevator slid shut, cutting off the bright lights of the executive floor. Aryan leaned heavily against the cold steel wall of the descending cage. As the elevator began its rapid sixty-floor plunge, his starving stomach dropped violently. A wave of intense vertigo crashed over him. He grabbed the metal handrail with his bloody, bandage-wrapped hands, gasping as the rough fabric tore at his open wounds.He stared at his faint reflection in the brushed steel doors. He didn't recognize the man staring back. The sharp, handsome billionaire was completely gone. In his place was a hollow, broken shell with sunken eyes, pale, sickly skin, and a uniform stained with dried sweat and dark blood. He looked like a walking corpse.Ding. The doors opened to the freezing expanse of the underground parking garage. Aryan stumbled out, the cold concrete chilling him to the bone. He dragged his leaden feet across the empty VIP section until he found the gleaming blac

The dashboard clock of the Bentley glared a toxic, bright digital green in the pitch-black cabin: 9:45 PM. It had been exactly two hours since Kiara and Rajeev had disappeared into the golden warmth of the Oberoi. Aryan sat frozen behind the heavy leather steering wheel. His breath plumed in the freezing air of the car, a white mist that immediately vanished into the suffocating darkness. He had no coat. His thin, sweat-and-blood-stained uniform offered absolutely zero protection against the biting, aggressive night chill seeping up through the floorboards.His body was systematically shutting down. The violent, uncontrollable shivering had started an hour ago. Now, his muscles were too exhausted and starved to even shake. His ruined, bandaged hands lay completely numb in his lap, the dirty rags stiffening with dried blood and cold. The deep, gnawing hunger had evolved from a sharp, twisting cramp into a vast, empty black hole consuming his internal organs. He couldn't feel his toes i

The harsh, shrill ringing of the cheap alarm clock sliced through the freezing darkness of the laundry annex. 4:30 AM. Aryan tried to reach out to smash the snooze button, but his right arm completely refused to move.A terrifying, unnatural heat radiated from his hands. He forced his heavy, crusted eyelids open, gasping as a wave of intense, sickening dizziness washed over him. He was violently shivering, yet his skin felt like it was entirely on fire. The harsh ammonia from last night’s car cleaning had seeped deep into the open cuts on his palms. The makeshift bandages were now completely stuck to his skin, stiff with dried blood and thick, yellowish fluid. Severe infection had aggressively set in. He had a raging, blinding fever.Every single joint in his body screamed in protest as he dragged himself off the rusted cot. His vision swam with dark, heavy spots. He was dying. It wasn't an exaggeration anymore; his starving, freezing, heavily infected body was actively shutting down

She was actively, systematically trying to kill him.Aryan sat frozen in the driver's seat, staring blindly at the towering skyscraper. The horrific realization didn't bring panic; it brought a heavy, suffocating wave of absolute despair. He shifted the Bentley into drive with trembling fingers. He navigated the massive vehicle down into the freezing underground parking garage, his vision violently tunneling with every erratic heartbeat.When he turned off the powerful engine, the sudden silence roared deafeningly. He forced the door open and practically fell out onto the cold concrete. His legs were entirely numb, refusing to hold his weight. The thin plastic wrap bound around his infected palms was already slick with hot, fresh pus and dark blood. The fever had completely hijacked his brain, painting the dark corners with terrifying shadows. He dragged himself toward the service elevator, leaning heavily against the dirty walls, his breathing wet and ragged.Ding. The elevator doors