Todos los capítulos de Playboy CEO Contract Wife : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Oliver's POV The silence in the boardroom after my announcement was absolute. For three agonizing seconds, nobody breathed. You could have heard a pin drop on the thick mahogany table. Then, the murmurs started. It began as a low buzz at the far end of the table and quickly escalated into a flurry of hushed, frantic whispers. The older board members were exchanging baffled looks, shuffling their papers, and staring at Elena as if she had just materialized out of thin air. "Wife?" one of the senior investors muttered, his glasses sliding down his nose. "Since when is Mr. Wyatt married?" My uncle Richard stood frozen at the side of the room. The smooth, paternal composure he had worn like armor all morning completely shattered. His face transitioned from a satisfying shade of pale to a dark, furious crimson. He stared at our joined hands, his fingers twitching against the edge of his folder. He looked like a man who had just watched his carefully constructed trap get blown to piece

Oliver's POV The vote had passed nine to three. By three o'clock that afternoon, Uncle Richard’s planned coup was officially dead in the water. Once the board saw the marriage certificate we’d signed yesterday morning and heard Elena's smooth speech about "keeping me grounded," the older investors fell right back into line. They liked stability. They liked a man who looked settled. Now, I was leaning back in the leather chair in my office, staring at the financial projections on my laptop screen. The board issue was settled, but the real prize was still on the table: the massive merger with Sterling Global. The heavy glass door to my office swung open. Julian walked in, tossing a leather portfolio onto my glass coffee table before dropping himself onto the sofa. He unbuttoned his custom Italian suit jacket, kicked his feet up on the corner of the table, and pulled a silver flask from his pocket. "How’s the fund doing?" I asked, watching him unscrew the cap without looking up fr

Elena's POV By six o'clock, Chloe was settled into her new room in the east wing. Martha had fussed over her like a grandmother, fluffing her pillows, setting up her medication schedule, and filling the room with fresh white lilies. When the front door of the penthouse opened, the heavy, familiar click of Oliver’s polished dress shoes echoed down the hallway. I stepped out of Chloe’s room, closing the door quietly behind me. Oliver was standing in the foyer, unbuttoning his dark suit coat and handing it to Thomas. He looked exhausted, his tie loosened slightly at his collar, but the second he saw me, his eyes sharpened. "How is she?" he asked, his voice low as he stepped toward the living room. "She’s doing really well," I said softly, walking beside him. "The drive didn't tire her out too much. She’s thirteen, so her body is bouncing back faster than the doctors expected. She loves the room, Oliver. Thank you." Oliver gave a short nod, unbuttoning his cuffs and rolling his slee

Elena's POV The hallway was quiet as I walked out of Oliver’s study. Before going to my own room, I walked down the long corridor toward the east wing. I wanted to make sure Chloe was actually asleep and that her blanket hadn't slipped off. I pushed her bedroom door open a few inches. The soft yellow nightlight was on, casting a gentle glow over the room. To my surprise, Chloe wasn't sleeping. She was sitting propped up against her pillows, idly flipping through her new sketchpad. "Hey," I whispered, stepping inside and shutting the door behind me. "Why are you still awake, kiddo? It's past nine." "I was trying to sleep, but my stomach was itching a little," Chloe said, setting the pad down on her lap. "The nurse said that means the skin is healing." "That's a good sign," I smiled, sitting down on the edge of her mattress. I reached out and gently brushed a piece of hair behind her ear. "You need your rest, though. Big day today." Chloe looked toward the door, then back

Elena’s POV The elevator ride up to the main executive floor of Wyatt Enterprises was quiet. When the doors slid open, I took a small breath and stepped out onto the carpeted hallway. I had insisted on keeping my job working under Frank, even after signing the contract with Oliver. He hadn't fought me on it, but I needed the routine. When the twelve months were up and I packed my bags to leave, I needed to still have a job to fall back on. I couldn't afford to just sit around a penthouse for a year doing nothing. As I walked toward the front desk outside Oliver's main office, Frank was already there, organizing a stack of blue folders. Frank was the senior executive assistant who handled everything for the top floor, a sharp, direct man who had trained me and never minced words. The second he saw me, he froze. His hands dropped to his sides, and he practically scrambled out from behind his desk. "Good morning, Mrs. Wyatt," Frank said, bowing his head slightly and keeping his voic