All Chapters of The Ruthless CEO'S Chosen Wife : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The Hawthorne estate loomed ahead, a pristine symbol of power and wealth, but to Raymond, it had never felt so cold and lonely. The sleek black car drove up the curved driveway, parking smoothly in front of the entrance of the house. Raymond stepped out, his expression of controlled fury. The chill in the late morning air was nothing compared to the ice running through his veins. He walked swiftly through the marble-floored hallways, ignoring the startled greetings of the butler and maids. His gaze was fixed and cold, his strides purposeful. The echoes of his footsteps were a warning—one Eleanor Hawthorne chose to ignore as she sipped tea in the drawing room, lounging elegantly in a high-backed chair. Like she hadn't noticed his cold aura. She glanced up as he stepped into the room, a smile curving her red-painted lips. “Raymond, what a surprise. To what do I owe this—” “You set her up.” Raymond’s authoritative voice cut through the room, sharp and deadly. His eyes were dark with ba

Michelle’s fingers drummed nervously against the edge of her phone, the screen dark and reflective under the soft office lights. The anonymous message from earlier replayed in her mind, each word etched deep with a foreboding chill that refused to fade. “Be careful whom you trust. Not everyone is who they seem.” Her eyes flickered to Raymond’s closed office door, uncertainty coiling tight in her chest. She needed to tell him—about Eleanor, about Calvin’s unsettling friendliness, about the text she had received, that made her skin prickle with unease. But the past few days had been tense between them, conversations clipped and distant, weighed down by lingering guilt and misunderstandings. They had barely talked in the past few days. Steeling herself, Michelle took a deep breath and walked towards his office, hesitating only a moment before knocking softly. “Come in,” Raymond’s voice was brisk, distracted. She stepped inside, clutching her phone tightly. Raymond was at his desk, his

That night, the door to their penthouse clicked shut with a dull finality, the silence inside was thick and suffocating. Michelle's fingers trembled slightly as she turned, watching Raymond walk across the living room without a single glance in her direction. His shoulders were rigid, each step deliberate and unyielding, his anger barely contained. “Raymond, please, can you just listen to me please” she started softly, voice cracking around the edges. “It wasn’t what it looked like. I was just—” “Just what?” Raymond's voice cut through the air, icy and sharp. He turned abruptly, his eyes glinting with something darker than she'd seen before—anger, betrayal, something that twisted painfully in her chest. “Entertaining him? Laughing behind my back?” The accusation struck deep, leaving her breathless. “No I wasn't laughing behind your back, I—I would never,” Michelle stammered, throat tight. “He just wanted to talk. And I was trying to be polite.” “Polite?” Raymond's laugh was harsh,

The tension in the penthouse was suffocating, a cold war of silence that left Michelle on edge with every step. Raymond had barely looked at her since last night’s confrontation, his words still echoing mercilessly in her mind. You’re running out of time. She moved through the living room like a ghost, nerves frayed and exhaustion pulling at her limbs. Three days to clear her name, to find proof that Eleanor and Calvin were behind the setup. But Miranda's unexpected appearance had complicated everything , her words replaying relentlessly in Michelle's head. Sometimes, the real enemy is closer than you think. A knock at the door disrupted the quiet living room. Michelle flinched, snapping out of her thoughts and hesitated before pulling it open. A hotel staff member stood outside, expression polite and detached. “Mrs. Hawthorne, Mrs. Eleanor Hawthorne has requested your presence for lunch in the dining hall,” he announced. “She insisted it was urgent.” Michelle’s stomach twisted at

The glow of the city lights outside the window did little to ease the chill settling in Michelle's bones. She sank into the armchair in the guest room, eyes fixed on her phone screen as if willing it to stay silent. The encounter with Isabelle still clung to her skin, a warning she couldn't shake. Her fingers trembled when the phone finally buzzed. The number was unfamiliar, but a dark intuition twisted in her gut as she swiped to open the message. I know what you did, Michelle. Secrets don’t stay buried forever. We both know that. — A Her breath hitched, blood draining from her face. Alex. It had to be. The words were sharp, each letter a taunt dipped in venom. Michelle’s vision blurred, memories clawing to the surface—the lies, the mistakes, the secrets she’d fought so desperately to forget. The room seemed to close in, the walls too tight, too suffocating. How did he bring it up all of a sudden? After all these years, how much did he know? And worse—what did he plan to do with i