บททั้งหมดของ The Rich Man's Proxy Marriage: บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

Holden didn’t remember grabbing Elena—only the tightening coil in his chest when her knees buckled, the way her fingers slipped from the scorched metal wall of the Memory Room, and the soft, broken sound she made when her breath hitched.All he remembered clearly was this:He refused to lose her. Not here. Not again.“Holden…” Elena’s voice was thin, raw, trembling near his collarbone as he lifted her with a strength that felt more like panic than muscle. “I can— I can walk.”“You are walking,” he muttered, tightening his arm around her waist as he pulled her out of the collapsing chamber. “Just not on your own.”The Memory Room hissed behind them—sparking wires, a half-collapsed ceiling, the acrid smell of burning insulation crawling through the air like smoke from a dying monster. The deeper they’d gone, the faster the fractures had spread along the walls, as if the entire research bunker had been rigged to decay the moment Elena stepped in.Silas’s instructions had been clear:Nora

Elena woke to the soft patter of rain against the cabin roof.For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. The room smelled faintly of pine, warm fabric, and the lingering smoke of last night’s half-burned fireplace. A blanket—too thick, too warm to be hers—was draped over her shoulders.Then she felt it.A quiet, steady heartbeat beneath her ear.A breath that wasn’t hers.A body beside her.Her lashes fluttered open.Holden.He was still in his day clothes—jacket unzipped, shirt wrinkled, boots abandoned somewhere near the bed. He sat half-propped against the headboard, head tilted slightly to one side, as if he’d only allowed himself to fall asleep once she had. His arm was around her, loose but undeniably there, like a barrier against the world.Her cheeks warmed instantly.Last night.The storm. The memory of the lightning strike. Her panic. The dark. His voice telling her to breathe, to look at him, to stay here. The closeness that kept creeping in even when they both tried

The ride back to the mountain villa should have been easy—straight road, morning sun, nothing but the quiet aftermath of the storm. But nothing between Elena and Holden had been simple since last night.The silence in the car wasn’t peaceful. It buzzed like static trapped between them.Holden drove with one hand on the wheel, the other curled so tightly on his thigh that his knuckles were white. His jaw was locked the way it always was when he was two seconds away from losing control—except now, he wasn’t angry at Silas, or the Board, or the world.He was angry at himself.And Elena? She hadn’t looked at him once since they left the cabin.Not after waking up tangled in him. Not after she realized her fingers had been resting on his heartbeat. Not after he pulled away first—as if touching her had burned him.She stared out the window now, pretending the mountains were the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.But she felt him. Every breath. Every shift of muscle. Every stolen

The storm had passed, but the electricity between them hadn’t.By the time Elena descended the stairs, Holden was already waiting near the base of the tower, speaking tersely with the security team. His posture was rigid—shoulders tense, jaw locked, every inch of him coiled tighter than the last time she saw him.He sensed her approaching before she spoke a word.His eyes lifted. Found her instantly. And something unguarded flickered across his face, gone just as quickly.“Stay close,” he said—not a command this time, but something like instinct.She nodded, falling into step beside him as the guards led them toward the main hall.But the tension from the observatory still clung to them like static. Every accidental brush of their arms. Every sideways glance. Every breath.It was too much. Too sharp. Too real.And it was only a matter of time before something snapped.The Engineer Who Stood Too CloseAt the front hall, a team of emergency engineers arrived to assess structural

Elena woke slowly, like rising through layers of warm fog.Her lashes fluttered. Her breathing was soft, shallow. A faint scent—clean soap, cedar, and something deeper—wrapped around her before she was fully aware of where she was.Then she realized something was against her.No—someone.A chest. Hard, warm, and rising steadily beneath her cheek.Her fingers curled involuntarily into fabric. Her legs were tangled with another pair. An arm—heavy, strong, firm—was draped over her waist with a possessiveness that made her pulse stutter.Her eyes snapped open.The room was dim, early morning light barely creeping through the curtains. Rain still pattered faintly outside the cabin. The storm had calmed—but the memory of last night was still sharp, still electric.The power outage. The cold. Holden pulling her closer so she wouldn’t shiver. Their breath mingling in the dark. His hand on her back—steady, protective, trembling just slightly.And then—She must have fallen asleep.But she