Semua Bab Betrayed by My Ex, Claimed by His Boss: Bab 21 - Bab 30

The atmosphere in the Delacroix boardroom was thick with tension, heavy enough to cut with a knife. Victor sat at the head of the table, his usually impassive face cast in shadow by the projector screen. Around him, a dozen senior executives and legal advisors were deep in a heated discussion. Ashcroft had escalated his attacks, and his methods were blunt but effective. He was spreading nasty rumors through financial media, claiming Delacroix was secretly running out of cash. It was a classic scare tactic designed to make the market panic. Worse, his proxies were actively trying to buy up Delacroix's outstanding bank loans. If Ashcroft got his hands on that debt, he could demand immediate repayment, artificially forcing a cash flow crisis at a time of his choosing. "The banks are getting nervous," David, the Head of Finance, said, rubbing his eyes. "If Ashcroft buys those loans and triggers a default, our capital gets locked into a reactive state. We'll

The radiator in the corner sputtered, fighting a losing battle against the freezing New York winter. Outside the frosted window of our tiny, cramped office, heavy snow was quietly burying the streets. I sat huddled in a cheap fleece blanket, my fingers stiff and aching as I typed line after line of code into a massive, convoluted financial model. The glare of the old monitor was the only light in the room. The door creaked open, bringing in a rush of icy wind. Julian stepped inside, shivering, shaking the snow off his worn overcoat. In one hand, he held two cups of cheap bodega coffee; in the other, a cardboard box of pepperoni pizza that had already gone cold. He set the food down and immediately walked up behind my chair. Wrapping his freezing hands around mine, he gently rubbed the warmth back into my stiff fingers, then pressed the hot paper cup of coffee against my cheek. "Look at this," I murmured, pointing at the screen, my exhaustion r

I arrived at Victor’s headquarters the next morning at nine o'clock. The whisper network was still active, the hallways completely frozen. I ignored all of it, shut the door to my office, and dove straight into the Delacroix files. Around noon, Marcus walked past my glass office. He didn't come in, but he paused by the door just long enough to hand a stack of documents to a junior manager right in front of my window. I could hear his voice, deliberately pitched to carry through the slight crack in my door. "Make sure the internal strategy team is fully briefed on these remaining Delacroix models by three," Marcus instructed, not even glancing in my direction. "We need to ensure a seamless transition for Evelyn's portfolio. Let's keep the optics clean and moving forward." He was already dividing up my work. He had completely written me off, treating me as a finalized casualty of their corporate risk management. I didn't react. I just took another slow si

Waking up felt like trying to swim to the surface of a frozen lake. My eyelids were incredibly heavy. When I finally managed to force them open, the harsh morning sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains felt like tiny needles piercing my retinas. I winced, instinctively turning my head away from the window and burying my face into the incredibly soft, faintly cedar-scented pillows. My memory of last night was completely fragmented. I remembered the bone-chilling cold, the delirium, and the suffocating weight of the fever. I remembered a warm chest, a glass of water, and... talking to someone? But the details were hopelessly blurred, entirely swallowed by the exhaustion. The soft click of the bedroom door opening pulled me out of my confusion. I rolled over, my muscles screaming in protest. Lucian walked into the room. He was dressed in a pristine charcoal suit, looking completely sharp and effortlessly intimidating, though he had forgone

Recently, a strange, unprecedented atmosphere had settled over the top floor of the Blackwood Consortium headquarters.Elias, Lucian Blackwood’s chief executive assistant, adjusted his glasses and looked at the impeccably organized but completely empty CEO's office. Lucian working remotely wasn’t entirely unheard of, but being entirely absent for consecutive days without a pre-planned international flight was a first in Elias’s five-year tenure.The usual sharp, suffocating pressure of having Lucian in the building was replaced by a quiet, lingering question among the senior executives: What on earth was keeping Mr. Blackwood at home?Elias sighed, his attention returning to the heavy, leather-bound dossier resting on his desk.It was a time-sensitive proposal. A massive, multi-billion-dollar joint venture with one of Europe’s oldest and most influential aristocratic families. The initial terms had been negotiated for months, and now the final structural phase requir