The CEO’s Secret Heiress의 모든 챕터: 챕터 21 - 챕터 27

POV AitanaThe media storm began to lose force following the live broadcast of my uncles’ arrest. Sebastian’s public declaration — calling me his wife and vowing to destroy anyone who dared harm us — had circulated millions of times across news outlets and social media, raising an impenetrable shield around us. Here at El Robledal, the mountain silence felt like a healing balm.After an entire afternoon spent running through the gardens under Victoria’s watchful, loving care — she seemed determined to make up every lost moment with Selene — my little girl slept peacefully in her canopied bed. Her cheeks were flushed from play, and she clutched her teddy bear tight, at last unaware of the world’s clamor beyond these walls.I kissed her warm forehead, turned down her bedside lamp, and stepped out into the east wing corridor.Rain drummed rhythmically against the tall windows, wrapping the house in a soft, melancholy hush. My bare feet carried me instinctively toward the covered terrace

POV AitanaThe air within El Robledal’s glass conservatory hung thick with the scent of damp earth and midnight jasmine. Mid-morning sunlight streamed through the translucent panels, casting golden patterns across the orchids and giant ferns Doña Victoria tended with such meticulous care. After that night of complete surrender in Sebastian’s arms, my body still carried a new, lingering warmth — a sweet heaviness in my limbs and a sense of rootedness I had never thought to feel again.Sebastian had gone down early to the library with his legal team. Morning news confirmed the Serrano empire was collapsing at breathtaking speed: Don Germán Serrano had been formally summoned to testify before a federal judge regarding the laundering of the eighty-two million dollars stolen from my grandfather, while shares in his pharmaceutical laboratories plummeted in free fall. Within exclusive clubs and high-society magazines, Adela Serrano’s name no longer stood synonymous with corporate royalty — i

POV SebastianThe great formal dining hall at El Robledal held a chill, reverent hush. The imperial mahogany table, polished to a deep glow and set for thirty, bore Limoges porcelain emblazoned with the family crest in gold, and silverware dating back to the nineteenth century — reserved only for matters that touched the very soul of our name. Candles in silver candelabra cast long, flickering shadows across oil portraits of ancestors lining the walls, watching in silent judgment.Seated at the table’s right, I held myself perfectly still, hands folded atop the linen cloth. Beside me, Aitana looked breathtaking in a navy silk gown — elegant, understated, and commanding. She held her chin high, her gaze steady and sure; no trace remained of the frightened girl who once fled in shadows. To her left, in a chair made just for her, Selene ate with gentle, perfect manners that made a mockery of every whispered slight against her birth.Across from us sat resentment, thick and unspoken. My g

POV AitanaThe muffled murmur of the crowd drifted through the armored glass of the Maybach limousine. Ahead, the Grand Metropolitan Theatre rose in stately stone splendor at the heart of the central avenue, a fifty-meter red carpet sweeping upward to its gilded doors. Hundreds of accredited photographers, camera crews from major international networks, and the nation’s most powerful figures waited behind velvet cordons.Settled into the ivory leather seat, I drew a slow breath to steady my racing heart. Liquid emerald silk fell cool and heavy against my legs, caressing my skin like a whisper. From my ears, long drop earrings of Colombian emeralds and flawless diamonds caught every shift of light — a radiant declaration of the place I had come to claim, head held high.“You are so breathtakingly beautiful, Aitana”, Sebastian’s deep, rough voice broke through the quiet.I turned toward him. He wore a bespoke black tuxedo with silk lapels, cut by Milan’s finest tailors. His ruffled whit