All Chapters of Beautifully Ruined By Him: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Cael's POV The house was quiet by the time I got home, the kind of quiet that only comes with too much money and too few people who actually live in it. "Welcome home, sir." One of the staff took my jacket at the door. I barely registered who. I went straight up to my room, loosening my tie somewhere around the second flight of stairs, and poured a glass of wine before I'd even sat down. Didn't drink much of it. Just held it, turning the glass slowly, watching the light catch the edge of it while my mind kept circling back to the same conversation. *I don't want to be handled.* She'd looked at me like she meant every word of it too, standing in my office with that particular kind of anger she saved only for me; sharp, controlled, refusing to give me an inch even when I could see exactly how tired she was underneath it. I told her I'd stop. I already knew I wouldn't. I sat down slowly, glass still in hand, and let myself think it through properly for once instead of just reactin

Nora's POV I was still setting up my laptop when Chloe and Priyanka walked over together, both grinning like they'd been waiting all morning for an excuse to come over. "We heard the news," Chloe said, perching on the edge of my desk without asking. "Big presentation. You're leading it." I gave a smile. "Word travels fast." "It's a small office," Priyanka said, pulling the spare chair over from the next desk. "Everyone already knows. Cael basically announced it in front of the whole department. Did you think that was going to stay quiet?" "I guess not," I admitted, still typing. "Anyway," Chloe said, "we wanted to say congrats. And offer to help, if you want it." I stopped typing and looked between them properly. "Help how?" "Whatever you need," Chloe said, counting it off on her fingers like she'd already thought this through. "Slides, research, pulling numbers, proofreading your script so you don't accidentally say something insane in front of investors at nine in the morning

Sienna's POV I made it to the bathroom before I let myself fall apart. I locked the stall door, pressed my back against it, and stood there shaking for a full minute before I trusted myself to move. My hands wouldn't stop trembling. I looked down at them like they belonged to someone else. "How dare she," I whispered. "How dare that stupid bitch talk to me like that???!" *I hope it works out.* Like she had any right to feel sorry for me. Like her pity meant anything at all, coming from someone who'd spent the last month floating around this building on Cael Draven's goodwill, wearing it like a crown she thought she'd earned instead of one that had simply fallen into her lap because a powerful man happened to want her. I splashed water on my face at the sink, gripping the edges of it hard enough that my knuckles went white. She thought she'd won something back there. I could see it in her face, that infuriating calm, that quiet little smirk she thought she was hiding. She always

I already knew there was nothing worth eating in my fridge, I had checked that morning and found half a lemon and some eggs I didn't trust anymore. Ordering delivery again felt pathetic, even for me. So I did something I hadn't done in months. I stopped by a fancy place on my way and actually sat down to eat like a person with a life outside of work. The restaurant was quiet, warm lighting, soft music. I got a table near the window, ordered something small, and pulled out my tablet before the waiter even walked away. Old habits. I opened the client folder and started scrolling through their previous campaigns, their social media, anything that might tell me more about who they actually were, not just what they wanted on paper. If I knew their preferences, their tone, the things they liked, I could shape something that felt personal instead of generic. I typed notes between bites. *Prefers minimalist visuals. Leans conservative in messaging but wants to feel modern. Likes data pres

Cael's POV I was still at the Ashworth facility, going over shipment schedules with Reeves, when my phone buzzed with a message from a number I didn't immediately recognize. *I heard you're having trouble with production partners. I might have something useful. — Camille Sterling* Sterling. Her father ran one of the larger logistics firms in the city, the kind of family that showed up at every gala Victor dragged me to as a kid. I hadn't spoken to Camille directly in over a year. I typed back: *What kind of something?* *A list. Companies not currently tied up with Halloway. Meet me for a meal?* I glanced at Reeves, who was still waiting on my sign-off for the afternoon shipment. "Give me twenty minutes." --- She was already seated when I got to the café down the street, dressed like she'd walked out of a boardroom rather than sat down for a meal, sliding a folder across the table the second I took my seat. "That's why I'm here," I said, opening it. A list of six companies, con