Lahat ng Kabanata ng You Chose Her, I Took Your Empire: Kabanata 51 - Kabanata 60

Julian's POVI slammed the driver’s door of my sports car shut, the heavy metal ringing in the quiet VIP parking garage.Marie slid into the passenger seat, pulling her seatbelt across her dress with a violent jerk. Her jaw was tight, her face pale under the harsh fluorescent lights of the concrete ceiling."Julian," she snapped, her voice sharp as glass. "What is going on?"I fired the engine. The dual tailpipes roared, and I shoved the shifter into gear. I floored the accelerator, sending the car launching up the exit ramp into the evening traffic. My hands gripped the leather steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white.My heart was hammering against my ribs like a trapped animal.Marcus John Jenkins.The name kept repeating in my head, over and over, pulsing behind my eyes like a headache."Are you going to say something?" Marie demanded, turning in her seat to look at me. "Or are you going to keep brooding over your pathetic little ex all night?""I'm not brooding over Elena,

Julian's POVDawn crept through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my office, cutting across the glass desk.I was still sitting in my chair, wearing the same shirt I had worn the night before. The collar was unbuttoned, my tie thrown on the floor beside my shoe. My eyes burned as I stared at the bright glow of my monitor.Dozens of browser tabs covered the screen. Corporate filings, asset holdings, offshore equity trusts, and court records from ten years ago.Marcus John Jenkins.I leaned back, resting my elbows on the desk and rubbing my face with both hands. The back of my neck throbbed. I had spent eight hours digging through his life, hoping to find a flaw, a bad debt, or a legal scandal I could use.I found nothing.The man wasn't a mid-tier consultant or a lucky pretender. He held majority stakes in three institutional capital funds. He owned real estate portfolios across two continents.A quiet knot of pure paranoia tightened in my gut. He wasn't just a nobody. He was a force to

Elena's POV‎Chloe marched into my bedroom, grabbed a handful of hangers from my closet, and dumped them straight onto my mattress.‎"What are you doing?" I asked, standing in the doorway with my arms crossed.‎"Eradicating the evidence," Chloe said, tossing three more gray cardigans onto the bed. "This isn't a wardrobe, El. This is a corporate camouflage kit."‎"It's practical," I said, stepping forward to pull a black blazer off the pile. "I worked on a trading floor full of men. Dressing like this meant they focused on my models instead of what I was wearing."‎"Yeah, and it meant Julian could treat you like an invisible ghost while taking credit for your work," Chloe replied, unbuttoning a dark blue jacket and dropping it into a discard box by the wall. "You don't work at Jenkins Holdings anymore. You're a founder now. You don't need to hide."‎She reached into the far back corner of my closet and pulled out a sleeveless olive-green silk dress I had bought two years ago and never

Julian's POV‎I stepped off the elevator, holding a double espresso in one hand and my tablet in the other.‎The floor was already buzzing with the rhythmic clicking of keyboards. I adjusted the cuffs of my crisp white shirt, feeling confident. Sure, the weekend at the symposium had been a disaster with Marcus Jenkins making scenes, but Monday was work. Work was where I controlled the room.‎I walked past the main row of glass offices toward my corner suite, glancing casually toward the desk near the window.‎It was completely empty.‎The wooden surface was wiped down, bare except for a small, dark rectangular dust outline where her personal mug used to sit.‎A sharp spike of annoyance hit my chest. Seeing her desk stripped clean made a cold realization settle in my stomach: she really wasn't coming back anymore.‎"Spoiled brat," I muttered under my breath, opening my office door and tossing my tablet onto the desk. ‎At eight-fifty-five,, my office door burst open.‎David, one of m

John's POV‎‎I sat on the dark leather couch in my living room, the city lights stretching out beyond the floor-to-ceiling glass of my penthouse.A crystal glass of bourbon rested on the low table in front of me, untouched.For years, stepping into a room as a Jenkins meant dealing with the same predictable noise. Handshakes from men who wanted my capital, fake smiles from women who wanted the family name, and executives watching my every move like I was a dollar sign instead of a man. I kept my guard up because I had to. It was the only way to keep the vultures away.Then came Elena.Dropping the corporate suit, pulling up in my RS7, and watching her face when she realized who I actually was—that was the first time in a long time using my real name actually felt good. She didn't look at me like I was a Jenkins family bank account. She looked at me like I was a challenge. Even when she tried to hide it behind business boundaries, the raw, electric spark between us was undeniable. The