The CEO's Accidental Bride

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the scene in the ballroom on an endless loop: my impulsive bid, the stunned silence, Alexander Thorne's chillingly ca

k. Our modest house, usually a beacon of warmth and familiarity, seemed to loom over me, its windows dark and silent

losed my eyes, I saw Alexander Thorne's face, that calculating glint in his obsidian eyes, the faint, dangerous curve of his lips. H

alarm, set for 6 AM, blared, a jarring reminder of the impossible appointment awaiting me. Eight AM sharp. His office. The Thorn

d on the floor, a tangible reminder of the night's catastrophe. I picked it up, smoothing the fabric, a

oal suit. It was the uniform of an architect, a woman who built things, who solved problems. Today, the prob

trying to salvage what he could. Mark, my brother, would be asleep, dreaming of college textbooks and a future I was now desp

me. This was about Reed & Sons. About my father's legacy. About Mark's future. If I walked away now, everything would be lost

ew about my family's financial ruin, who had used it as leverage. The thought sent a fresh shiver down my spine. Could I really prete

plans. This was chaos. This was a leap of faith into an abyss,

It was a news alert. My heart h

EXANDER THORNE ENGAGED I

beside me. The article spoke of a "profound, if whirlwind, connection," a "shared appreciation for ancient artifacts," and a "mutual desire to support charitable causes."

wn woman." It painted a picture of a powerful man finally finding his match, a woman who had captured his el

eady begun to control my public image, my very identity. But then, a cold, hard truth

rtress of glass and steel that dominated the skyline. I had designed buildings, dreamed of leaving my own mark on

life. As we approached the towering edifice, my palms grew sweaty. The building se

le in expensive suits moved with purpose, their faces serious, their briefcases clutched

rne," I said to the impeccably dressed r

e touched her lips. "Ah, Miss Reed. Mr. Thorne is expecting you. Please take the p

he common folk. As the doors slid open, revealing a plush, wood-paneled interior, I

d a breathtaking panoramic view of the city. Another receptionist, equally polished

oken only by the faint whir of unseen machinery and the distant murmur of voices from behind a closed door. My eyes scanned the room, t

ruthless decisions, and unimaginable wealth.

veled, as if he'd been running his hands through it in thought. His eyes, those piercing obsidian eyes, met mine across the room. There was n

esonant. "Thank you for being punctual. Pl

aled. I rose, my legs feeling strangely heavy, and walked towards him, towards t