บททั้งหมดของ Beg no more married to his enemy : บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

Chapter 61: Elena’s POV​"What are you doing here, Damian?"​My voice was flat. There was no fear in it, no surprise, and no anger—just cold, plain annoyance.​Damian stood in the hallway with his shoulders tense. His dark coat was damp from the rain outside, and a small puddle was forming on the hotel carpet near his shoes. He tried to stand taller, squaring his shoulders to look more imposing, relying on the same physical posturing he had used for years in New York boardrooms.​"You didn't really think an ocean and a time zone change were going to keep you away from me, did you, Elena?" he said, his voice raspy. He took a step forward, trying to push past my shoulder into the suite.​I did not move. I planted my hand flat against the wooden doorframe, blocking his entry completely.​"Stop right there," I said, keeping my tone steady and sharp. "You are trespassing in a private hotel suite, and you are standing in a country where you have zero authority, zero legal standing, and zero

Chapter 63: Elena’s POV​I was standing by the mahogany dresser in the corner of the suite, methodically sorting through my itinerary and organizing the printed contract copies for the upcoming morning meetings. Everything was neatly aligned in neat piles, matching the exact order of my schedule. The quiet hum of the air conditioning unit was the only sound in the room, offering a sense of total control and absolute order after the unpleasant interruption from Damian earlier in the day.​I picked up a stack of distribution schedules, tapping the bottom edge against the wooden surface to straighten the papers. My mind was entirely focused on the upcoming international releases and the media showcase scheduled for the following morning. The past hour had been calm, allowing me to settle back into my professional routine without a single distraction. I felt completely grounded, completely independent, and entirely removed from the chaos that Damian had tried to drag into my space.​My ph

Chapter 65: Elena’s POV​The silence stretching across the phone line was thick and heavy, broken only by the faint, distant electronic beep of hospital monitors humming in the background of Chloe’s end. She was waiting for my answer, her breath hitched in nervous anticipation, knowing entirely that her leverage over life and death depended on what I decided to say next.​"I haven't said yes," I told her, my voice low and steady, though a tremor of internal conflict threatened to crack through the armor. "I am not making a decision right this second, Chloe. Keep him stable if you can. I need time to think."​"Elena, you don't have time—" Chloe started to panic, her voice pitching upward again.​I didn't let her finish. I pulled the phone away from my ear and tapped the red end call button, cutting off her frantic pleading before she could manufacture another manipulative guilt trip. The screen went dark, plunging the suite back into a profound, suffocating quiet.​I let out a long, sl

Chapter 67: Elena’s POV​The emergency lobby of St. Jude’s Medical Center smelled faintly of antiseptic, bleached linoleum, and stale coffee. The harsh fluorescent lights overhead buzzed quietly, casting a clinical glare over the frantic movement of nurses and paramedics rushing through the double doors. I pulled my coat tighter around my shoulders, keeping my posture straight and my steps deliberate as I walked past the reception desk.​I did not come here to linger, and I certainly did not come here to be welcomed.​"Excuse me," I said, stopping a young nurse in blue scrubs who was rushing past with a clipboard.​The nurse paused, looking up with tired eyes. "Are you looking for admissions or the family waiting area? If this is about an accident patient, you'll need to check—"​"I am not a family member, and I am not here to wait," I interrupted, my voice calm, clear, and carrying the quiet authority that usually commanded attention in a boardroom. "I am the donor. My medical profil

Chapter 69: Elena’s POV​The grand ballroom of the Mayfair convention center was a brilliant sea of sparkling chandeliers, flashing camera shutters, and sharply dressed faces. Hundreds of international investors, top-tier music executives, and influential members of the press filled the hall to capacity, their eyes fixed entirely on the stage. I stood at the center of the elevated podium, dressed in a sharp, tailored ivory suit that projected absolute confidence, authority, and unshakeable poise. The microphone before me picked up the steady, measured rhythm of my voice as I delivered the keynote address detailing our label's upcoming global distribution agreements, digital streaming milestones, and aggressive European market expansion.​I spoke with absolute clarity, outlining the numbers and the strategic vision that had turned our independent label into a powerhouse. Every word was delivered with precision, designed to command respect from the highest tiers of the corporate world.