The CEO's Unspoken Love Novel

Chapter 56 "I don't recall making such a promise, Eleanor whispered as I guided her away from Seraphina, whose perfect composure had momentarily slipped to reveal a flash of annoyance. Good, I thought, feeling an irrational satisfaction at disrupting her performance, "You didn't," I admitted, maintaining my hand firmly against Eleanor's back as I led her toward the dance floor. "But I wasn't about to let others paw at you all evening." "Jealous?" she asked, the challenge in her voice catching me off guard. I felt my expression harden reflexively. "Protective of what's mine.

At least for now." The qualifier slipped out automatically-a reminder of our impending separation that I immediately regretted voicing. I watched a flicker of hurt cross her features before she carefully masked it. "How thoughtful," she replied, her voice cool. "And does that protection extend to explaining why you were upstairs with Seraphina?" "I don't owe you explanations, Eleanor," I said coldly, though I heard the uncertainty in my own voice. Why did I feel the need to justify myself to her? "No, you don't," she agreed, pulling away from my touch.

"Just as I don't owe you an explanation for attending a party I was invited to." We didn't say anything further. Throughout the evening, I found my attention repeatedly drawn to Eleanor. I watched as she moved through the crowd, engaging in polite conversation with various guests. Each time a man approached her, I felt a surge of irritation I couldn't justify. Seraphina spoke beside me about her plans for redecorating her Boston apartment, but my responses were automatic, my focus elsewhere.

I was acutely aware of Eleanor's position in the room at all times, as if some internal radar kept track of her movements. At one point, I noticed Sophia Taylor approach Eleanor. Their interaction seemed tense-Eleanor's posture stiffened as Sophia leaned in to say something. I couldn't hear their words, but Eleanor's face momentarily lost its composure before she quickly recovered. Whatever Sophia had said had struck a nerve. I heard snippets of conversation around me-speculation about my return to Boston and my relationship with Seraphina.

The prevailing theory seemed to be that I'd come back for her, a narrative neither of us had bothered to correct. It was convenient, after all-a simple explanation that diverted attention from the complicated truth. Near the bar, two analysts from Cornerstone were discussing my return a bit too loudly. "Wells wouldn't have left London if it weren't for Bradley moving back," one said confidently. "Everyone knows he's been carrying a torch for her since they broke up." "Didn't she follow him to London in the first place?" the other asked.

1/2 Seraphina, who had apparently overheard as well, turned toward them with a flustered expression. "That's not I had my own reasons for being in London," she protested, too quickly. I glanced across the room and caught Eleanor watching this exchange, her face carefully blank. But I knew her well enough to hurt she was trying to hide. She thought she was witnessing confirmation of what she already believed that Seraphina and I rekindling our relationship, that my return to Boston had nothing to do with our marriage. were the I should have corrected the misunderstanding then and there.

I should have made it clear that Seraphina and I were just friends, that my return to Boston was for business reasons-and perhaps, though I couldn't admit it even to myself, to finally resolve things with Eleanor. But something held me back. Pride, perhaps. Or fear. Or both. Instead, I exchanged a smile with Seraphina-a smile of shared history and mutual understanding, acknowledging the absurdity of the gossip surrounding us. It was a private moment between old friends, but I saw Eleanor watching us, and I knew how she would interpret it.

I saw something in her eyes then-a resignation, a letting go-that made my chest tighten unexpectedly. Before I could react, she turned away, moving toward where Olivia stood watching her with concern. Later in the evening, I noticed Eleanor speaking with James Fort again. Their conversation seemed animated, with Eleanor laughing at something he'd said. I felt a surge of irrational jealousy watching them together, noting how comfortable she appeared in his presence.

After a few minutes, they began moving toward the terrace doors, and Fort placed his hand lightly on Eleanor's back as they walked. After several minutes, I saw them move toward the terrace doors. Without conscious decision, I excused myself from a conversation and followed at a discreet distance. Comments 4 Write Comments SHARE 2/2 Ruby Walker Ruby Walker is a rising voice in the world of romance and spicy fiction. With a gift for weaving deep emotions, sizzling chemistry, and unexpected twists, her stories are a blend of passion and drama that captivate readers from start to finish.

Ruby's writing style is bold and irresistible-perfect for those who crave intense, addictive love stories.