Semua Bab A Twist In My Marriage Deal With The CEO : Bab 91 - Bab 100

The keys to the beach house felt heavy in my hand—not from weight, but from possibility. This was mine. Entirely mine. No compromises, no opinions to consider except my own. The salt-kissed air rushed past me as I pushed open the door, the empty rooms echoing with potential. I walked through the bare space, my fingers trailing along the walls, already imagining the colors they would wear. Soft, grey and sky blue? Or maybe something bolder, like the deep turquoise of the ocean at dusk? I smiled. I’ll decide later. Every choice would be mine, down to the smallest detail. The living room was bathed in golden afternoon light, and I tilted my head up, picturing a chandelier—something delicate but striking, like crystal droplets catching the sun. Not the kind you’d find in a showroom, but something unique, something that felt like it belonged only here. I crouched, pressing my palm against the cool tile floor. These would have to go. Maybe something in a pale, weathered stone, or hand

The furniture store is vast, filled with endless possibilities, but my eyes are immediately drawn upward—to the chandeliers. Dalia walks beside me, her fingers trailing over a catalog as she hums in thought. "That one,"I say suddenly, pointing to a stunning spiral glass chandelier. Its delicate branches twist like a frozen tree caught in mid-growth, each piece catching the light in a way that makes it shimmer like ice. Dalia tilts her head, studying it before smiling. "An excellent choice. It’s unique—just like you."I grin, pleased. "Exactly what I was thinking." We move to the living room section next, and I run my hand over the fabric of a sleek grey couch. It’s soft but sturdy, and when I spot the dark green pillows, I know it’s perfect. "These," I say, arranging them against the back. "With that organic wood table—see how the grain flows?" Dalia nods approvingly. "Moody and elegant. Now, curtains?"I scan the options, searching for something that ties it all together—deep

I clutched the black eyeliner in my hand, my fingers tightening around it like a vice. The second Rami slid back into the car with that damn Kunafa box, I held it up, my voice sharp. "Whose is this?" He barely glanced at it before shrugging. "I don’t know. If it’s not yours, maybe it’s my secretary’s. She came with me to the last meeting—probably dropped it." Probably dropped it. The words echoed in my head, mocking me. I felt heat rise in my chest, my pulse hammering. "Of course she dropped it," I snapped, my voice trembling. "While she was laughing hysterically at your silly jokes, right?" Rami’s eyes widened, startled. "Dema, stop yelling. We’re in the middle of the street—" I didn’t care. The image of her—whoever she was—sitting in my seat, laughing, touching his arm, fixing her makeup in the mirror—it played over and over in my mind. My breath came fast, my vision blurring at the edges. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I dropped into the passenger seat, my voice flat. "Ta

With Dalia’s help, I had finally managed to turn my empty house into a home. The past few days had been a whirlwind of shopping trips, debating over fabric swatches, and measuring spaces to make sure everything fit just right. But now, standing in the middle of my newly furnished bedroom, I couldn’t help but smile. The furniture we’d chosen was perfect—modern, yet warm. The bed frame was a sleek white with soft, rounded edges, and the matching dresser had delicate gold handles that caught the light just so. Dalia had convinced me to add touches of light pink in the décor—throw pillows, a cozy rug, and even the curtains had a subtle blush hue. At first, I’d been hesitant, afraid it might feel too girlish, but now, seeing it all come together, it felt right.It felt like me. “See?” Dalia nudged me with her elbow, grinning. “I told you the pink would work. It’s elegant, not childish.” I ran my fingers over the smooth surface of the nightstand, still marveling at how different the roo

The last of our clothes are folded neatly into suitcases, and I take a slow look around the bedroom—our bedroom—one last time. The mansion feels different now, like a grand stage we’re stepping away from, though Rami insists we’ll still use it for formal events. "Parties, meetings, family gatherings" he said. "But our home will be the beach house now."I like the thought of that. The beach house is ours in a way this place never could be. Still, as I zip up the final bag, a bittersweet feeling settles in my chest. Rami is already heading downstairs to load the car, but I linger. There are goodbyes I need to say. The staff has gathered in the foyer—some smiling, others with tears in their eyes. My throat tightens as I walk toward them. These people have been more than just employees; they’ve been my companions, my protectors, my friends in a world that often felt too cold. I thank each of them, squeezing hands, offering hugs. When I reach Tala, my voice nearly breaks. "You’ve