All Chapters of Accidentally Contracted To The Billionaire CEO: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Andrei's POV Traffic is a parking lot, horns are blaring, and I'm white-knuckling the steering wheel, crawling through rush-hour, when Victor's voice drops a bombshell in my earpiece.“The oil and pharmaceutical sectors of the CCI are now registered under Jeremy's name, making him the official owner.”I'm stunned, but I quickly regain my composure, “Victor, what's going on? How did Jeremy's name get linked to those companies?”“It's public knowledge now. Your brother made the announcement himself during a press conference. He's claiming ownership of the companies.”“You'd better have a good explanation for this, Victor.”“Boss, I swear to God, I’m as clueless as a tourist in the goddamn Amazon. Jeremy’s always been ambitious, but this? This goes beyond any rational thinking. It’s downright insane. Time is of the essence. If we don't contain this story, our stock will take a nosedive within hours….”This can't be happening. I negotiated Brielle's release using those companies as leve

Ivy's POV. Fourteen days. That's how long it took me to pour my soul into a lie. After delving old art archives from the 1700s I found some pretty wild 'facts' about the painting. I took what I needed, ignored the rest, and made a replica that turned out… impressive, it's almost as convincing as the truth itself. Valtor is behind me grinning like a mischievous imp, clearly thrilled. “Ivy, Ivy, Ivy… you sneaky thing!” I feign modesty, giving him a slight curtsy. “It was a privilege to work on such a masterpiece, Sir Now, if you'll excuse me… I must prepare for our esteemed guest's arrival." “Of course, of course. Mr. Logan will be here soon. Make sure you look the part. We must give him the impression that he’s dealing with a true connoisseur of art." He gives me a casual nod before heading out. “Just be your charming self, Ivy. And, you know, maybe don't mention the whole 'forgery' thing!” My lips twitch in a manic grin, “sure thing Mr. Valtor... I live to serve.” The

Brielle's POV. Coffee is brewing, laughter is flowing, and our morning mayhem has officially begun – we're chatting, chuckling, and generally making the most of our time together over coffee. Dad's back from his humanitarian aid trip to Africa, and we're scrambling to catch up, to rediscover our family rhythm after months apart. I lean back in my chair, my eyes drifting to his feet as he stretches out his legs. The flip-flops look out of place in our cozy suburban home. They're like a dead giveaway that he's been soaking up the African sun. Paired with his brown shorts – the perfect blend of practicality and vacation vibe – he looks like a completely different person. Gone is the suburban office drone, replaced by a chilled-out, sun-kissed humanitarian with a heart of gold. “Africa's a pretty wild detour from your usual routine of hitting up the grocery store. How’d you like it?” I ask. Dad chuckles, a grin spreading across his face like a sunrise. “Wild doesn’t even begin

Brielle's POV We roll up to the Carter Estate in that sleek, silent machine of a car, and my nerves start going haywire like a bunch of ants at a picnic. Why am I this freaking nervous? It's not like I'm about to meet the Queen of England. I've handled tougher audiences – like my aunt Mildred's grilling at Thanksgiving dinner or that infamous TV conference where I accidentally swore and cursed at the journalists, including Eva Adams. Our press conference three days ago was a carefully choreographed dance, where I aimed to humanize Andrei Carter, all while preparing for the possibility that he'd announce our divorce on live TV. I couldn't help but think: This is it. This is how I die. Not from a broken heart, but from embarrassment, however, The elephant in the room remained unaddressed even though the news had already spread like wildfire. The car rolls to a stop, the sudden stillness jolting me out of my thoughts. Marcus, moves to open the door, which I take as my cue to vacat

Brielle's POV I'm looking at Andrei hunting for that signature spark of trouble that ignites his eyes, ready to unleash a torrent of teasing and laughter at my expense. There’s no playfulness in his voice, no trace of that smirking smile that usually hides whatever he’s feeling. “Brielle, I've spent years negotiating contracts, but none as important as this. Will you be my wife, not just on paper, but in every way? My heart races as the truth hits me: this is real – Andrei's proposing.” “Yes,” the word just slips out, a whisper that's almost lost in the silence… I'm not even sure I said it out loud. “Yes,” I repeat, my voice stronger now, surer. “Yes, Andrei, I’ll marry you. For a fleeting instant, he's a kid on Christmas morning, beaming with excitement….it's not quite steady. His jaw muscles twitch, slightly. “We'll pretend to be apart, to make them think we've gone our separate ways. It's the only way to keep you protected, to keep them guessing and off our trail. We'l