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Todos os capítulos de BOUGHT BY THE RUTHLESS CEO : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

21 Capítulos

CHAPTER 11: THE STOLEN INHERITANCE

~CLARA'S POV~ "Where is it, Ares?" My voice was a razor-thin whisper, sharp enough to cut through the ambient swell of the ballroom’s jazz orchestra. I turned fully in his embrace, breaking the pleasant facade I had spent the last two hours maintaining. The diamond choker around my neck felt heavier now, suffocatingly hot against the hidden silver collar underneath. Ares didn't even blink. He kept his eyes swept across the room, watching Marcus Vance’s retreating figure disappear into the sea of silk and tuxedos. "Marcus is a desperate man throwing pebbles at a fortress, Clara. Do not let a traitor dictate your composure." "He said you have my mother’s necklace," I demanded, stepping closer, my hands coming up to press against the crisp lapels of his tuxedo. The physical proximity was overwhelming. The familiar, intoxicating scent of his cedarwood and amber cologne filled my senses, making my head spin. "You told me the federal receivers took it. You told me it was liquidated

CHAPTER 12: COLLATERAL TRAUMA

CLARA'S POV Before I could even attempt to move, a heavy force slammed into me. Ares threw his entire weight against my body, driving me flat against the cold marble floor beneath the shadow of the concrete VIP balcony. He shielded me completely, his massive frame acting as a bulletproof vest. The scent of his cedarwood cologne was masked instantly by the sharp, metallic tang of gunpowder. Above us, the VIP balcony sparked. Another flash of muzzle fire illuminated the blackness for a fraction of a second. In that fleeting moment of light, I saw Ares move with a terrifying speed. His hand reached into his tailored tuxedo jacket, pulling a concealed, matte-black firearm. He didn't hesitate. He leveled the barrel into the dark and fired three precise shots toward the upper deck. A heavy thud echoed from the balcony, followed by the clatter of a dropped weapon. The shooter was down. "Move. Now," Ares growled against my ear in a commanding tone. He hoisted me to my feet, his grip on my

CHAPTER 13: THE MORNING AUDIT

~CLARA'S POV~ I had not slept. For six hours, I had lain on the plush rug at the foot of his bed thinking about where he told me we were going and why he suddenly asked the driver to turn back What does he know? Could my father be guilty as charged? What don't I know? all that questions while listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. In the dead of night, the ruthless titan had broken. I had heard him mutter my name into his pillow—not with the cruel, mocking command he used in the boardroom, but with a desperation that sounded terrifyingly like obsession. ------------ "You are late with my coffee, little bird." The deep voice cut through the silence. I froze. Ares was sitting at the edge of the mattress, his dark hair messy, his eyes tracking my every move like a hawk. The daytime mask was already sliding back over his face, cold and unreadable. "It is exactly 6:29 AM, Mr. Volkov," I said. My voice was flat. Professional. Perfect. "Your coffee is waiting on yo

CHAPTER 14: THE CLOSED-DOOR DEFENSE

CLARA'S POV Ares did not let go of the silver collar. His thumb remained pressed against my pulse point, trapping the frantic beat of my heart against his palm. The heat of his body pressed into mine, pinning me against the edge of the massive mahogany desk. "Look at me, Clara," he commanded.The low vibration of his voice rumbled against my ear. I tilted my chin up, forcing my gaze to meet his stormy eyes. I refused to let him see the tremor inside me."I did not leak your data, Mr. Volkov," I said coldly. "If I wanted to destroy you, I wouldn't use a blunt instrument like Marcus Vance. I am smarter than that. And so are you."A dangerous smile played at the corner of his lips, but his eyes stayed dead. "You were at my console last night. You bypassed my administrative firewalls. You think because I kept you on my bedroom floor, I forgot what you are? You are a Sterling. Treachery is in your blood."The reminder of the bedroom floor sent a sharp spike of heat through my veins. My m

CHAPTER 15: THE OFFICE INTERROGATION

CLARA'S POV The red dot pulsing over the Grandview Residences remained steady, a digital proof of my innocence—and my uncle’s ultimate betrayal. Ares didn't speak. He closed the laptop with a decisive snap that echoed like a gunshot in the silent room. He didn't look angry; he looked focused. The calculating stillness that made him a terror in the corporate world had settled over him completely. "You knew," I whispered, the realization hitting me like a blow. I stepped closer to the desk, my professional mask slipping for a second. "You knew my uncle was in the city, and you didn't tell me." Ares slowly turned his head to look at me. He stood up from his leather chair, his massive frame completely cutting off the light from the window. He didn't answer right away. Instead, he walked around the mahogany desk, his steps slow and deliberate, until he stopped mere inches away from me. "I tell you what you need to know, little bird," he said, his voice dropping to a low pitch. "Your

CHAPTER 16: THE SETUP

CLARA'S POV The tiny piece of plastic felt like a block of dry ice against my fingertips. I didn't pull my hand away immediately. I kept my fingers pressed against the smooth, cold casing of the microphone, my heart hammering against my ribs. Marcus Vance hadn't just framed me. He had breached the inner sanctum. He was listening to us. I kept my face completely blank, refusing to let the panic show in my eyes. Ares was still standing near the window, his eyes tracking my sudden stillness. He knew my movements too well; he knew the exact micro-second my breathing changed. I didn't speak. Instead, I looked up, caught his gaze, and slowly tapped the index finger of my free hand against the top of the mahogany desk. Three sharp, rhythmic thuds. Then, I pointed a finger downward, directly toward the space between my knees. Ares didn't blink. The subtle shift in his posture was almost invisible, but I saw the muscles in his jaw tighten. He walked back to the desk, his movements fluid

CHAPTER 17: THE WIRETAP

CLARA'S POV The microphone stayed live under the mahogany desk. It felt like a ticking bomb, waiting to catch a single wrong word or a breath that sounded too rehearsed. Ares stepped away from the console, his movements fluid and natural. He didn't look at me as he walked toward the bar across the room. He poured himself two fingers of scotch, the ice clinking sharply against the crystal glass. "You are moving too slowly, Clara," he said aloud. "The data migration should have been completed ten minutes ago." I kept my eyes on the secondary monitor, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. I had to play my part perfectly. Marcus Vance was on the other end of that frequency, listening for a crack in my composure, waiting to hear the proud Clara Sterling finally beg. "The encryption protocols on the Vance logistics network are tighter than anticipated, Mr. Volkov," I replied, my voice holding a faint, practiced tremor. "I am bypassing the third-party firewall now." Ares walke

CHAPTER 18: THE PSYCHOLOGICAL TOLL

CLARA'S POV The physical threat of Marcus Vance’s remote wipe was nothing compared to the sudden shattering of my emotional armor. The performance had cost me too much. Pretending to break, pretending to cry, and feeling Ares’s possessive hands mapping my body for the microphone had pushed me completely over the edge. "Get back to the terminal, Clara," Ares ordered, his voice no longer loud for the microphone, but dropping into a dangerously sharp whisper. "Stop the deletion." My hands shook violently as I forced my fingers back onto the keyboard. The terminal screen was a cascading waterfall of bleeding red code as Vance’s remote override tore through our system. I forced my mind to focus on the data architecture, typing frantically and deploying every defensive firewall my father had ever taught me to build. Click. Click. Click. "I’ve isolated the local sector," I breathed, my voice raw as a line of green code finally cut through the sea of red. "The primary Project Acer

CHAPTER 19: THE VANCE LIQUIDATION

CLARA'S POV The 48-hour clock began its final countdown at midnight. By 3:00 AM. I sat at the master console in Ares’s obsidian office, wearing an immaculate black suit. The high, structured collar completely hid the heavy silver band around my neck. The air inside the locked study smelled of stale espresso and the cold, metallic ozone of hyper-threaded servers. Ares stood directly behind my chair. He did not touch me, but his presence was a heavy anchor in the quiet room. His shadow fell over the keyboard, trapping me within his personal space. I could feel the intense heat of his body radiating against my back. It kept me sharp. It kept me awake. "Vance has taken the bait, little bird," Ares murmured. His deep voice was a low, gravelly vibration right near my ear. "Look at the volume metrics." On the main monitor, the trading logs for the ghost holding companies were lighting up in a chaotic green. These were the specific shell corporations containing the toxic debt of the

CHAPTER 20: THE FATHER'S GHOST

CLARA'S POV The silence that followed Marcus Vance’s severed phone call was heavier than any physical weight. The dial tone buzzed on the speakerbox, a flat, robotic drone that seemed to stretch the room into an impossible, tight vacuum. He licensed it directly to Volkov Global. The words repeated in my mind, each repetition chipping away at the foundation of everything I believed. I didn't move. My hands stayed resting on the edge of the mahogany desk, my knuckles turning white against the polished wood. My father’s arrest, the destruction of the Sterling empire, and my own forced contract with Ares—it had all built toward a single narrative of a ruthless billionaire taking everything from a defenseless family. But a defense system doesn't get licensed by accident. Slowly, I turned my head to look at the man standing beside me. Ares hadn't moved an inch. His hands were still flat on the desk, his massive chest rising and falling in a slow, controlled rhythm. His eyes weren't on

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