Alle Kapitel von A Bride For Revenge : Kapitel 1 – Kapitel 10

The walk to my boss's office has never felt this long.I step off the elevator, and the carpet stretches into forever. Each step is heavy, slow, my heart racing.My palms are sweaty. I wipe them on my skirt, but they're damp again before I've taken ten steps.Come on, Olivia. You can do this.You've done harder things. You've watched your father fade. You've held your mother while she cried over bills. This is just a conversation.But Robbin Jonathan isn't just my boss. He's the man who gave me this job when no one else would.The man who leaves granola bars on my desk because he noticed I skip lunch. The man I've caught staring.I push that thought away. I can't afford to think about anything except the papers in my hand….the deal I secured. The account everyone said was impossible.I knock."Come in."His voice sounds strange. I open the door. He's on the phone, back half-turned, one hand pressed against his forehead."No, I understand that," he says, voice tight. "But you have to g

The sun streaks through the window, casting a small bent light across Olivia's floor. She stares at it, watching dust motes dance, wishing she could float away like them. But she can't.She swings her legs out of bed, heavy with two hours of sleep, and heads to the bathroom. The mirror shows a stranger. Puffy eyes. Pale skin. Broken.In the living room, Chloe scrolls through her phone, half-asleep, waiting for coffee. She's thinking about Olivia. Something is wrong. She feels it in her bones.Then she sees it."Logan Industries Announces Major Merger….and a Logan Wedding. Aiden Logan engaged to Olivia Hughes."Chloe reads the words three times. Her brain refuses to process them. Her sister. Engaged. To a Logan?The coffee maker beeps. She doesn't hear it.Her phone slips from her fingers. A scream rips from her throat….high, sharp, terrified.Olivia runs. She bursts into the kitchen, heart pounding. Chloe stands frozen, face white, eyes hollow."Tell me it's not true," Chloe whispers.

She waits. The message doesn't come.She puts the phone down. Stares at the ceiling.Tomorrow, she marries a Logan. Tomorrow, she becomes the enemy.But tonight, she is still Olivia Hughes. Still her father's daughter. Still fighting.She closes her eyes.Sleep doesn't come.Sebastian Logan stands by his penthouse window, watching the sun rise over Los Angeles. He hasn't slept. He doesn't need sleep. Sleep is for people who can afford to be weak.His phone buzzes. A text from his security team: "No movement from the Hughes apartment. Subject did not leave overnight."He reads it twice. Then he deletes it.Olivia Hughes stayed home. She didn't run. She didn't go to the police. That could mean she knows nothing. Or it could mean she knows everything and is smart enough to hide it.He thinks about the accident. Robbin's car, flipped on its side, smoke rising from the engine. A purple car with no plates. Someone hit him deliberately. Someone saved her.Who?He picks up his phone again. Ca

The air in the Logan penthouse doesn't smell like a home; it smells like expensive silence and filtered oxygen.As the elevator doors slide open with a whisper, Olivia doesn’t marvel at the floor-to-ceiling view of the Los Angeles skyline. She doesn't gasp at the white marble that likely cost more than her mother’s life insurance policy. Instead, she counts.One. Two. Three.A dome - shaped security camera is set into the ceiling at the entrance area.Another is tucked into the shadow of a minimalist iron sculpture.She feels the weight of the cheap, scuffed suitcase in her hand - a jagged piece of reality in this polished museum. Her shoulder aches from the broken strap she’d tried to sew back together last night with shaky fingers."The code is 0822," Aiden says, his voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. He doesn’t offer to take her bag. He doesn't touch her. He stands three feet away, a statue in a bespoke charcoal suit. "Don't forget it. I don't like being woken up

The morning sun in Downtown LA doesn’t warm the penthouse; it just glares off the polished surfaces, highlighting every speck of dust Olivia hasn't had the chance to scrub yet.Aiden is already at the glass dining table, a tablet in one hand and a cup of black coffee in the other. He doesn’t look up when she enters. He doesn't offer a "good morning." He simply slides a crisp, heavy sheet of vellum across the table. It looks more like a death warrant than a household memo."The Rules of the House," Aiden says, his voice devoid of any morning rasp. It’s as sharp as his ironed shirt. "Read them. Memorize them. Break one, and the funding for your mother’s private nurse is flagged for 'review' by my legal team."Olivia feels the familiar, cold knot of anxiety in her stomach….the one she’s lived with since her father’s funeral - but she suppresses it. She picks up the paper. Her fingers, still stained with a faint trace of ultramarine blue paint from her packing last night. The Don’tsD