All Chapters of Sweet Revenge, Mr. CEO: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Serena’s POVI’d convinced myself my dizzy spells were reminders that my existence in Elena’s body was temporary; that no borrowed life could last forever, and sooner or later, these were signs that the body was rejecting the soul that didn’t belong inside it.But what if…What if I’d been wrong all along?What if this body was simply sick?“Sometimes,” I admitted to the doctor, my voice barely audible.Dominic’s hand tightened around mine almost immediately. He leaned forward, concern washing over his face as his brows drew together.“Sometimes?” he repeated, clearly caught off guard. “Elena… you never told me that.” His voice softened, hurt slipping into the edges of it. “Why didn’t you say anything?”I lowered my eyes to the blanket spread across my lap, unable to meet his gaze.“I… I honestly thought it was just stress,” I admitted. “I didn’t think it was serious enough to worry anyone. I figured it would pass.”Dr. Harrison made a few notes on his tablet before looking up again.“

Serena’s POVInstead, she leaned back slightly, her brows knitting together as she searched through her memory. Her gaze drifted somewhere over my shoulder, as though she were replaying old conversations one by one. “Not… really,” she said after a long moment, “You weren’t the kind of person who was always sick.”Without meaning to, I let out the breath I’d been holding.Some of the tension eased from my shoulders.“But…”The single word tightened every muscle in my body again.“You did complain about headaches.”I frowned.“Headaches?”She nodded.“Pretty nasty ones, actually.”She reached over to set her coffee on the bedside table before turning back to me.“They’d come out of nowhere. One minute you’d be completely fine, laughing at something or buried in work, and the next you’d have both hands pressed against your temples like somebody was trying to split your skull open from the inside.”She pointed at me with a knowing look.“And don’t even get me started on how unbelievably

Killian’s POV“…which means if we reallocate the remaining Q3 budget toward the secondary logistics vendors, we can offset the delay by at least two weeks.”The words drifted around the boardroom, bouncing from one person to another, but they never really reached me. They blurred together into meaningless noise, fading beneath the hum of the air-conditioning and the occasional scrape of a chair across the floor.My hands rested loosely over the unopened blue folder in front of me. I hadn’t touched it once since the meeting began. Instead, my attention stayed fixed on a tiny ink mark near the base of the crystal water pitcher sitting in the middle of the table. It was nothing. Just a careless streak of blue. Yet somehow I’d spent the better part of forty-five minutes staring at it like it held the answers to questions I couldn’t even ask.Not that I could’ve repeated a single thing anyone in this room had said.My body might’ve been sitting in a board meeting, but the rest of me was s

Serena’s POVThe banner hung slightly crooked across the foyer archway, bright yellow cardstock held together with far more tape than necessary.WELCOME HOME MOMMY!The letters weren’t straight. One of the hearts was noticeably larger than the others, another had been colored outside the lines, and someone had tried to hide a tear in the paper with another strip of tape.And yet it was perfect.Painfully so.I could picture Anika standing on a chair, tongue peeking out in concentration as she carefully drew every letter, proudly announcing she could do it herself while Dominic quietly followed behind fixing whatever she had overlooked. They’d planned this. Waited for me. Counted down the days until I came home.Except…They weren’t waiting for me.The familiar scent of air freshener drifted through the foyer, mixing with the fresh lilies Agnes insisted on replacing every week and the faint smell of something baking in the kitchen. It should have felt comforting.Instead, it made my ch

Elena… what you have is called called NMOSD.”“The lesion pattern is atypical.”“The last time you came to see me, you asked for more time. You weren’t ready to tell your family, and I respected that. After that… you never came back.”“Whatever was keeping the disease under control… isn’t anymore.”“Without treatment, the next relapse will almost certainly be worse.”“Do you remember asking me what you would lose first?”“For most patients… it’s their vision.”“Then their mobility.”“I tried to reach you. I sent emails, left messages, but after the accident…”“Now that you’re here, we have to act quickly. We can’t undo what’s already happened, Elena, but we can slow it down. We can buy you time. You need to tell your family.”The voices refused to stay inside Dr. Vance’s office.They followed me into the elevator, rode down twelve floors with me, settled into the back seat of the waiting car as though they’d paid the fare themselves. They didn’t replay in order. One sentence bled into