Too Late Mr. Hawthorne I Already Married Your Rival のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 41 - チャプター 50

Elena’s POVI woke earlier than usual.The light slipping under the curtains was still soft and gray, the kind that arrives before the city fully commits to morning. For a long moment I simply lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the weight of the previous day settle over me in slow, deliberate layers. The Carter estate. The garden room with its pale stone floors and the drifting scent of roses. The word *fiancée* spoken in a room full of strangers. The quiet, practical deal Mr. Nik had offered me with no threats and no guilt attached.Three months. Possibly six. Pretend to be his fiancée when required. No unnecessary surprises. No pretending to have feelings we did not feel. Protection from Damien. Protection from Isabella. Space to rebuild without their interference.I sat up carefully. The sheets slid down my arms, cool against skin that still felt too aware of everything. My mind kept circling the same points: the way he had stood with his back partially to me while he

Elena’s povShe was dressed in sharp black, the kind of tailored precision that looked expensive even under fluorescent lighting. Her hair was perfect. Her makeup was flawless. At the Carter estate she had worn composure like armor. Here the armor was gone. Her eyes were bright with open, undiluted fury. She looked me up and down slowly, deliberately, the way someone examines a stain they fully intend to scrub out of existence.“So here you are,” she said. Her voice was low and venomous, pitched just loud enough for nearby ears to catch. “Man-snatcher.”The word landed like a physical blow. I forced myself to stay still. This was a workplace. There were cameras. There were witnesses. I would not give her the scene she clearly wanted.“Liana.” I kept my tone even, professional. “This isn’t the place.”She stepped closer. The scent of her perfume was sharp, expensive, and aggressive, the kind that clung. “You think you can walk into my family’s house, smile at his mother, sit in their g

Elena’s POVSaturday morning light filtered through the thin curtains of my bedroom in soft, uneven stripes. I woke later than usual, the kind of late that only happens when there is no alarm and no office waiting. For a few seconds I stayed still, staring at the ceiling, letting the quiet settle around me.Then my left hand shifted against the sheet and the unfamiliar weight on my finger pulled my attention down.The ring.I lifted my hand into the light. The stone caught what little sun there was and threw it back in quiet flashes. Clean band. Understated fire. It looked like it had always belonged there, which only made the feeling worse. Yesterday’s scene in the office replayed itself without permission: Liana’s slap still echoing on my skin, the empty space on my finger that had felt like an accusation, Mr. Nik kneeling on the carpet of his own office as if the whole performance was ordinary. The way he had said the words. The way the ring had slid on as if measured for me long

Elena’s POVThe door clicked shut behind me and the silence of my bedroom pressed against my skin like a second set of clothes. I stood with my back against the wood for a long moment, eyes closed, and finally released the breath I had been holding since Mr. Nik stepped into the kitchen. It left me in a shaky rush. My lungs felt scraped raw. The ring on my finger still carried the residual warmth of the morning light, and every time I flexed my hand the band shifted, reminding me that nothing about the last hour had been ordinary.Footsteps followed almost immediately. Soft, familiar, determined. Samantha did not bother knocking. She slipped inside, closed the door with her hip, and leaned against it the way she had done a thousand times before when we needed to talk without the rest of the apartment listening.She was smiling. Not the careful, assessing smile she had worn downstairs. This one was bright and slightly wicked, the kind that usually meant trouble I would not be able to e

Elena’s PovThe car slowed.I felt the change before I saw it,the soft deceleration, the shift in the engine’s quiet hum, the way the light through the tinted windows altered as tall gates and then dense hedges replaced the ordinary New York streets. My hands rested in my lap. The engagement ring sat cool against one finger. The silver bracelet rested against the other wrist, blue stone quiet, initials private. I had not taken it off. Not once since the afternoon before. The metal had warmed to my skin during the drive, becoming almost a second pulse.The driver opened my door.I stepped out.The Carter estate rose in front of me like something that had never needed to announce itself. Stone the color of old bone stretched across a wide façade. Tall windows reflected the morning light in long, unbroken panes. A sweep of steps led to double doors that looked as if they had been opened by generations of people who already knew they belonged here. The air smelled of cut grass and somethi