All Chapters of You Are Mine : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Lance continued, his voice firm and resolute. "I propose that we give Adrianna one year to turn the company around. If she fails, then we can reconsider her position as CEO. But I believe she has the potential to succeed, and I'm willing to give her the chance."The room erupted into chaos once again, with shareholders arguing and debating among themselves. Finally, the chairman stood up, banging his gavel to restore order."We will put this to a vote," he declares. "All in favor of giving Adrianna one year to turn the company around, please raise your hands."HiThe room fell silent, with the majority of the shareholders raising their hands. Adrianna felt a surge of relief and gratitude, but she couldn't shake off the feeling that Lance's motives were not entirely pure. “Now it is settled,” Lance announces and motions for Adrianna to resume. For a moment her mind went blank, the wave of events was overwhelming but what ran a thrill through her body was the new Lance. He seems and a

Adrianna drives into the Houston manor, her heart heavy and her mind racing. Each step feels like a weight pulling her deeper into the void. Hey! How was your date? I bet he is handsome. Victoria calls from the living room, she sits languorously on the couch and nibbles on her cookies. “Fine,” she mutters, brushing past her, the word barely making it past her lips. All she wants at the moment is to run herself a warm bath. She can feel Victoria's keen eyes on her, full of curiosity and concern, but she can bring herself to further the conversation. “But you've barely said a word,” her sister persists, her voice trailing after Adrianna like a slow, aching whisper. “You don't look okay.” “No! I'm perfectly fine, I'm just tired and I need some time to myself." She knows she has to come up with an excuse to pare Victoria's curiosity. “Goodnight,” she adds and flees to her room. Once inside, she shuts the door with a soft click and leans against it inhaling deeply, the weight of her f

Adrianna arrives at the club. She steps out of the sleek black, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she takes in the sight before her. The club’s exterior screams luxury with its imposing glass facade and luxurious gold trimmings. The bouncers, dressed impeccably in tailored suits that strain at the muscle underneath, recognized her instantly. Who wouldn't recognize her? She is among the American list of successful women. They nod respectfully, acknowledging her as someone who belongs in the opulent world within. Adrianna offers a small, courteous smile, grateful for the swift passage as they pull aside the velvet rope. Inside, the interior is every bit as magnificent as the rumors suggested. A crystal chandelier and expensive lighting, marble floors, and gold accents brush against polished mahogany surfaces. “Wow” Adrianna breathes, her eyes widen in awe and her gaze sweeps the room, seeking a familiar face of her sister among the sea of the city’s elite. Picking up h

The crisp, sterile air or aroma of the freshly brewed coffee mingling with the buttery croissants does little to soothe Adrianna’s frayed nerves. The sunlight pours in through the large glass windows, casting a warm glow over the polished marble tables. Her fingers tap nervously against her phone. She glances at the clock, she should have heard from Wade by now. With every passing minute, her mind drifts back to the events that unfolded yesterday, the memory that stings and she prefers not to remember. Flashback……Adrianna glares at Lance, trying to pull her hands free from his grasp. “Let me go!” she demands, her voice taunt with fury. Her smirks, leaning closer, his breath earl against her skin. A knock at the door interrupts the tension. Robert strides, followed closely by a draped gaudy, sequined dress that sparkles even in the muted office light. Her luscious hair flows down her shoulders, amplifying the theater of her presence. “Lance!” the woman exclaims and rushes towards

A smooth familiar voice greets her. Even if she reincarnates a thousand times, she will always recognize his smooth deep voice. As she turns her head, there is Lance. She blinks, chest tightening as she takes in Lance, who is impeccably dressed in a tailored emerald—colored suit that accentuates his broad shoulders and angular jawline, the soft light enhances the angle of his jaws and the rich color of his eyes. He is sitting casually on a couch across her bed, with his legs crossed over the other. His presence is infuriatingly disarming, and for a moment, she finds herself mesmerized by how effortlessly handsome Lance is. “Where am I? She croaks, her throat dry and scratchy as her heart races maybe from the sight of him or the crazy scene from last night. Lance smirks as if he enjoys the chaos swirling around her. “You are safe, for now. But,” he gestures to a file lying on the table, open and inviting. “Time to sign the contract,”’ he adds sardonically, letting the weight of those