Todos los capítulos de THE CEO'S LITTLE MATCHMAKERS : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

The main kitchen of Willow Springs did not feel like the setting for a romantic dinner. It was a cavernous, bustling space smelling of roasted garlic and fresh rosemary. Amelia had deliberately kept the environment casual. She wore an apron over her jeans, working alongside the evening kitchen staff to prepare a simple, hearty pasta dish. She wanted to ensure there was absolutely no room for misunderstanding—this was a practical compromise to appease two stubborn preschoolers, not a date. When Ethan arrived with Lily, the corporate tycoon looked entirely out of his depth. He stood near the industrial steel prep tables, holding Lily's small canvas backpack as pots clattered around him. "You can take a seat at the staff table over there, Mr. Blackwood," Amelia called out, gesturing with a wooden spoon toward a long, rustic wooden table in the corner of the kitchen. The girls immediately took control of the seating arrangements. Emma and Lily scrambled onto the heavy wooden be

The rain began to pelt against the office windows as Sarah hurried into the room, a faded manila folder clutched tightly against her chest. "I didn't know, Amelia. I swear to you, I didn't know," Sarah gasped, her face pale as she clutched a faded manila folder to her chest. She had rushed over the moment the new digital system flagged the discrepancy. "When your mother’s estate went through probate, this liability never appeared in the standard financial disclosures,” Sarah explained, her voice trembling. “I found the original records buried under an old agricultural land-grant tax ID that hasn't been active in a decade.” Amelia stood paralyzed as Ethan took the folder from Sarah’s trembling hands. He spread the yellowed pages across the rustic desk, his sharp eyes scanning the legal text with practiced, terrifying speed. It was a secondary, high-interest expansion loan. Amelia’s mother had taken it out fifteen years ago to fund the original construction of the south cabins. B

The ballroom of the Grand Horizon Hotel was a dazzling sea of crystal glasses, black silk, and whispered fortunes. Amelia stood near a towering ice sculpture, her fingers wrapped tightly around a glass of sparkling water she hadn't touched. She wore a deep emerald gown—the most sophisticated piece in her closet—but surrounded by the city's elite, she felt entirely out of place. This was a world where human beings were valued by their corporate portfolios and net worth, and she was acutely aware that her beloved Willow Springs looked like a rounding error on these people's balance sheets. "Take a breath, Ms. Carter. You look like you're preparing for a courtroom deposition," a low, familiar voice murmured beside her. Ethan stepped into her line of sight, looking devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. He didn't look at the crowd; his dark eyes were fixed entirely on her. He had stayed close since they arrived, quietly intercepting conversations whenever s

The fragile trust they had begun building over the weekend was brutally tested by Tuesday morning's business headlines. Amelia slammed the folded copy of the *Financial Chronicle* onto Ethan’s desk at Willow Springs, her hands trembling with fury. The front-page article featured a large, glossy photo of Ethan helping her out of the limousine at the gala, flanked by a devastatingly patronizing headline: *BAILOUT OR BILLIONAIRE'S PLAYTHING? Blackwood Tycoon Rescues Struggling Resort Heiress.* "Have you seen this?" Amelia demanded, her voice shaking as she pointed at the text. "They are portraying me as an incompetent child who needed a big, strong billionaire to rescue her from her own financial ignorance. Look at this paragraph! It implies that you are secretly buying the resort piece by piece and that my majority control is nothing more than a vanity title to keep me quiet." She jabbed a finger at another section of the article. "And they're already questioning whether I

By the following morning, the sun was shining brightly over the battered property, almost mocking the emotional confusion the storm had left in its wake. Amelia stood near the main garden fence, holding a box of heavy-duty iron nails. The storm had left Willow Springs bruised but standing. Several branches had fallen across the eastern paths, part of the garden fencing had collapsed, and the lower cabins would need repairs before they could safely receive guests again. Amelia had barely slept. Neither, apparently, had Ethan.. “Did you sleep at all?” Ethan asked without looking up from the fence. Amelia glanced at him. “Did you?” “No, Ethan murmured.” “Then we're even.” A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You were impressive last night,” he said. Amelia looked away, suddenly uncomfortable with the sincerity in his voice. “You were useful.” Ethan finally looked at her. “Useful?” “Don't let it go to your head.” His quiet laugh carried across the garden.