Todos los capítulos de my mum's billionaire husband: Capítulo 81 - Capítulo 90

AVAFor fourteen days, I settled into an uneasy rhythm that almost resembled normality.Work in the mornings.Late afternoons at my apartment when I needed silence.Nights at Alexander's penthouse when I wanted him.Sometimes I slept in my own bed.Sometimes I woke beneath expensive sheets with Alexander's arm heavy across my waist and the city glowing beyond the glass.There were no grand declarations between us.No unnecessary promises.We simply existed in the strange space we had created together.He had meetings.I had board papers.I spent hours learning the intricacies of the pharmaceutical group Daniel had handed me, going through contracts, supplier agreements, regional performance reports and acquisition files until numbers began to blur.Alexander would sometimes collect me after work.Other evenings, I went to his penthouse myself.It was almost domestic.Almost.I was beginning to understand the danger of that word.Almost.Because every time I thought I had finally reach

AVAA week passed.Seven ordinary days.Seven days in which everything, inexplicably, held.The company remained mine.The board remained cautious but cooperative.The newspapers found other scandals to feed on.My mother's campaign lost its momentum after the board realized she had mistaken social influence for corporate authority.And Alexander—Alexander became the one part of my life that felt almost embarrassingly uncomplicated.Almost.We didn't spend every night together.Sometimes work kept him buried until midnight.Sometimes I stayed in my apartment because I wanted the quiet.But whenever we were together, there was a peculiar ease between us now.No games.No pretence.No need to explain the hours we disappeared into each other.He had begun leaving things at my apartment without mentioning it.A jacket.A watch.A book he claimed he was going to read and never did.I had somehow accumulated half a drawer in his penthouse.It felt domestic enough to frighten me.I had spen

ALEXANDERThe first thing I remembered after the doctor left was the sound of the front door closing.Not the hands that had dragged me from my car. Not the fists that had split my lip or the rough cord that had cut into my wrists. Not even the filthy room in which I had spent hours measuring time by the footsteps approaching the door.The door.The same door I had been walking toward when my life had been turned upside down.It was a ridiculous detail to remember, perhaps, but the mind has an unfortunate habit of preserving the ordinary moments that precede catastrophe. I could still picture the brass handle, polished to a dull gleam beneath the exterior lights, and the reflection of my own face in the narrow glass panel beside it.I had been tired.Annoyed, actually.Maria had insisted that some documents concerning our marriage be delivered to the house we still legally shared. Though I had already decided to divorce her, disentangling our lives required signatures, lawyers, and th

AVAI drove Alexander home myself.He protested twice.The first time, when Daniel's doctor told him he needed rest, he reached for his car keys and announced that he was perfectly capable of driving.The second time, when I took the keys from his hand and told him to get into the passenger seat.He looked at me with the sort of incredulity usually reserved for people who had just announced that gravity was optional.“Ava.”“Alexander.”]“I can drive.”“And I can fly. Neither of us is doing what we think we can do tonight.”His mouth twitched.“You're enjoying this.”“Immensely.”He studied me, then glanced at the keys in my hand.“You realize I could simply take them from you.”“You could try.”There was a pause.Then, to my immense satisfaction, he opened the passenger door.“Insufferable woman.”“Recovering tyrant.”He laughed.The sound was rougher than usual, and the movement seemed to pull at his bruised ribs. His expression tightened for an instant before he lowered himself int

AVABy seven the following morning, Alexander had threatened to fire three people, argued with his doctor twice, and attempted to convince me that a fractured night's sleep and a few bruises were insufficient reasons to keep him out of the office.I was beginning to suspect that being kidnapped had done absolutely nothing to improve his temperament.“You're not going anywhere,” I informed him, tightening the dressing around his forearm.He watched me from the edge of the bed.“Ava, I have a company to run.”“And I have a very handsome patient who has apparently mistaken his skull for something replaceable.”“It's a bruise.”“It's a bruise on the head of a man who was beaten, restrained, and deprived of God knows how much sleep. Sit still.”His mouth twitched.“You enjoy ordering me around.”“Only because you're so wonderfully obedient.”He gave me a look that suggested he was contemplating several responses, none of them particularly suitable for someone with a doctor's instructions t