Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 31 - チャプター 40

Elena’s POVI woke before the alarm.The room was still dim, the kind of gray that comes just before the city fully decides to open its eyes. Rain had stopped sometime in the night, but the air that slipped through the cracked window still carried that wet, metallic scent. For a moment I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling the quiet weight of everything that had happened the day before settle over me like another blanket.The photograph.I had shoved it back under the pillow eventually, but I hadn’t slept well. Every time I closed my eyes I saw that half-turned face, those eyes that felt too familiar and completely unknown at the same time. And the bracelet. Cool silver against my palm when I had first found it. Still sitting on the nightstand like it belonged there.I sat up slowly.My arm ached when I moved it, but the sharp, demanding pain of the first weeks was gone. Just a dull reminder now. I reached for the sling, fingers brushing the fabric, and hesitated. Then I c

Elena’s POV5:12 p.m.The numbers stared up at me from the phone screen, cold and unforgiving. Less than fifty minutes. The soft clothes I had put on after the shower suddenly felt wrong, too casual, too vulnerable. I pushed away from the door and moved before the nerves could settle fully into my bones.The black dress came out of the bag first.I had packed it without overthinking, the way you pack something you might need and hope you won’t. Now it lay across the bed like a decision waiting to be made. Sleek. Long-sleeved. The fabric was soft but structured, the kind that followed the body without clinging, elegant without trying too hard. I stepped into it carefully, mindful of my shoulder, and reached back to draw the zipper up. The sound was quiet in the large room. Final.I turned to the mirror.The woman looking back at me did not look like someone who had spent the last few weeks unraveling. The dress fit cleanly through the waist and fell in a straight, intentional line past

Elena’s POVThe night air hit my face the moment the restaurant doors closed behind us.Mr. Nik carried me as if I weighed nothing, his steps measured and unhurried, the solid heat of his chest steady against my side. I could still feel the residual throb in my shoulder where it had met the floor, but the sharper edge of the pain had dulled beneath the sheer shock of being held like this. My good hand remained curled into the fabric of his shirt. I told myself it was only for balance.He did not set me down until we reached the waiting car.The driver was already there, door open, eyes carefully averted. Mr. Nik lowered me to my feet with deliberate care, one hand lingering at my waist until he was certain I was steady. The night felt cooler without the barrier of his body. I swayed once, then locked my knees.“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.His voice was low, stripped of the lethal edge it had carried in the hallway. Concern sat plainly in it now.“I’m fine.” The automatic answ

Elena’s POVThe lights returned in a sudden, almost violent rush of brightness that made me flinch hard enough to feel it in my still-tender shoulder.I blinked rapidly against the glare as the lobby snapped back into sharp, ordinary focus around us. Voices rose in overlapping waves,guests exhaling in collective relief, staff calling quiet instructions, the soft shuffle of people beginning to move again after the long suspension of the dark. For one suspended second I forgot the restored power, forgot the watching eyes of strangers, forgot the residual ache in my body, forgot everything except the warm, steady pressure of fingers still wrapped firmly around mine.I was still holding Mr. Nik’s hand.The realization landed at the exact same moment he looked down. Our eyes met under the newly harsh light. Heat flooded my face so quickly it almost stung. Embarrassment followed in a hot wave. I started to pull away, already forming an apology that tangled uselessly on my tongue, but he did

Elena’s pov Mr. Nik’s hand guided me gently but firmly toward a set of glass doors at the far end of the sitting room. I went without resistance, acutely aware of the stares that followed us, of Liana’s burning gaze between my shoulder blades, of the soft murmur of voices that started the moment we were out of immediate earshot.The garden room was cooler, flooded with soft afternoon light. Tall windows overlooked a meticulously maintained rose garden. White furniture. Pale stone floors. The scent of flowers drifted in through open panels. It should have felt peaceful. Instead it felt like the eye of a storm.The moment the door closed behind us, I turned on him.“Fiancée?”The word came out sharper than I intended.Mr. Nik walked to one of the windows and stood with his back partially to me, hands in his pockets, gaze on the roses. For a long moment he said nothing. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than I had ever heard it.“My family has been pressuring me to marry for