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Todos los capítulos de Persigiuendo a La Esposa qué Rompio : Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

30 chapters

Morning arrived not with a sunrise, but with a slow, purplish clearing of the darkness. The storm had retreated to a low, sullen drizzle, leaving behind a coastline that looked as if it had been chewed up and spat out by the Pacific.Elias awoke before the first light touched the windows, his body numb from a night spent pressed against the oak pillar. The fire had settled in a bed of glowing white ash, radiating just enough warmth to keep the damp Oregon morning chill at bay.He glanced at Clara. She was still buried under the pile of blankets and her oversized flannel shirt, her dark hair spread across the makeshift pillow like an ink stain on snow. In the dream, the defensive lines around her mouth had vanished, replaced by a softness that pressed against Elias's chest.He remained perfectly still, watching the slow, rhythmic rise and fall of her shoulders, memorizing the peace on her face — a peace he had never been able to give her in Seattle, no matter how many diamonds he had b

CHAPTER 12: THE CONFRONTATION AT THE PORT

The sea salt stung Elias's face, but it was nothing compared to the acid churning in his gut. Julian stood on the rain-soaked dock, his yellow raincoat gleaming like a warning sign against the gray sky. The golden, carefree charm that usually defined the fisherman had soured into something sharper, something defensive."I don't know what you're talking about, Eli," Julian spat, though he didn't move to pass. He adjusted the heavy crate of crabs on his shoulder, his boots shifting restlessly. "You've been in this town for five minutes and you're acting like you own it. Clara's my friend, and I'm looking after her."“You’re looking for opportunities,” Elias countered, taking a slow, predatory step forward. He was no longer the “Eli” who repaired porches; he was the man who had crushed rivals in glass-walled boardrooms before breakfast. “I saw you lingering at your mailbox before heading out to work. You didn’t just check the mail—you kept something. A letter from a Seattle law firm? Or

CHAPTER 13: THE MASK FALLS

The rain poured down, turning the ground beneath Elias's feet into thick mud. The man in the raincoat watched them with a small, cruel smile. He knew he had just destroyed Elias's alibi, and he relished every second of it."I'll leave you to catch up," the investigator said. He tucked his clipboard under his arm and walked back to his black car. He'd done his job, and the chaos was just beginning.Clara stood on the porch, her body trembling.She looked at the man she'd called "Eli" for weeks. She looked at his beard, his flannel shirt, and his dirty boots. But then she looked into his eyes—those dark, piercing eyes that used to watch her from across a table in Seattle."Clara," Elias said. He took a step toward her, extending a hand. "I can explain.""Explain?" Clara's voice was sharp and cutting. "Explain what, Elias? That you followed me? That you've been living across the street like a stalker? That every 'kind' thing you did was just another lie?""I was trying to protect you," E

CAPÍTOLU 14: EL AMARGO SABOR DE LA VERDAD

El interior de la galería se sentía como una tumba. Clara apoyó la espalda contra la puerta cerrada, con la respiración entrecortada y dolorosa. El silencio era pesado, roto solo por el sonido desvaneciente del motor de la camioneta de Elias mientras se alejaba.Miró sus manos. Temblaban tanto que tuvo que meterlas en los bolsillos de la camisa de franela extragrande, su camisa. Con un grito de rabia, se arrancó la prenda de los hombros y la arrojó al suelo. Quedó allí, hecha un montón, oliendo a cedro y humo de leña, un recordatorio físico del hombre que la había engañado para que volviera a sentirse segura.—Tonta —susurró a la habitación vacía—. Tonta, ciega.Caminó por la galería, y cada objeto que tocaba ahora se sentía como una trampa. ¿Había elegido él la pintura de las paredes? ¿Había influido para que el banco le diera el préstamo? Cada pequeña victoria que creyó haber conseguido por su cuenta se sentía manchada por su sombra. Se sentía como si estuviera de vuelta en Seattle,

CHAPTER 15: THE Fugitive's Pathp

Chapter 15: The Fugitive's PathThe woods behind the gallery were thick and dark. The ground was soft from the storm, and every step Clara took made a wet, crushing sound. She had no map, no car. Only a heavy backpack and a heart full of rage. She pushed her way through the wet branches, ignoring the way the cold water soaked her jeans. She had to move fast—she knew Elias would come back. He always came back when he thought he was in control.She walked for an hour, following a small trail that led to the old logging roads. Her lungs burned in the cold air, and her muscles ached. In Seattle, she had lived in luxury: soft beds, hot showers, and drivers who took her everywhere. But that life was a cage. Even though her feet ached and she was cold now, she felt more alive than she had in years. She was a woman on the run, but at least she was running on her own two feet.He stopped beside a large cedar tree to catch his breath. The silence of the forest was thick. There were no sirens, n

CHAPTER 16: THE SHADOW AMONG THE TREES

Clara held her breath and didn't move a muscle. The light outside the cabin window moved slowly, cutting through the thick fog. It wasn't the bright, wide beam of a police spotlight.It was the small, steady light of a single person walking through the undergrowth.Her heart felt like it was about to burst in her chest. She looked around the dark cabin for a weapon. Her hand landed on a heavy glass bottle she'd found in her bag. She gripped the neck of the bottle tightly, until her knuckles turned white. She stood up slowly, pressing her back against the cold wooden wall near the door.The footsteps outside stopped. The only sounds were the wind and the dripping rain from the roof. Then the door creaked. Someone was pushing it open.—Clara? I know you're here.It was Elias. His voice was low and tired. It no longer sounded like that of the powerful CEO. It sounded like a man who had been running through the woods for hours.Clara didn't answer. She threw the bottle back, ready to hit.

CAPÍTOLU 17: LA LLAVE PLATEADA

Clara se quedó mirando las llaves en el suelo polvoriento durante mucho tiempo. El metal plateado captaba la débil luz de la luna, pareciendo una pequeña estrella fría. Esto era lo que ella quería, ¿verdad? Una forma de marcharse sin dejar rastro: ni Elias, ni Thorne Industries. Solo un camino y un nuevo horizonte. Las recogió. Pesaban. Diez mil dólares y un coche limpio eran más que suficiente para cruzar el país. Podía cambiarse de nombre otra vez. Podía empezar de nuevo en un lugar donde nadie supiera lo que era un "milmillonario". Pero mientras se detenía en el umbral de la vieja cabaña, sintió un extraño tirón en el pecho. Durante años, Elias había tomado todas las decisiones por ella. Ahora, por fin se había apartado, pero el silencio que dejó atrás era ate

CAPÍTOLU 18: LA CENIZA Y LA BRASA

El departamento de bomberos trabajó con rapidez, sus mangueras silbando mientras combatían las llamas. El aire estaba cargado con el olor a carbón mojado y cedro quemado. La mayor parte de la galería se salvó, pero la sala trasera —el lugar donde Elias había pasado tantas horas trabajando en su letrero— era ahora un cascarón hueco y ennegrecido. Elias se encontraba de pie en la calle, con el pecho agitado. Miró sus manos, cubiertas de hollín y pequeñas ampollas. No parecía sentir el dolor. Solo tenía ojos para Clara. —Deberías haberte quedado en el coche —dijo, con la voz ronca por el humo—. Vane se ha ido por ahora, pero la policía está en camino. La prensa vendrá detrás. Una vez que nos vean juntos, ya no habrá vuelta atrás a «Eli» y «Clara la arti

Chapter 19: The Morning After

The sun rose over the ocean, but the light felt cold. The fire had died down, leaving behind a skeleton of black wood and the acrid smell of wet ash. Blue police tape fluttered in the breeze, encircling the gallery like a spiderweb.Elias sat on the bumper of his pickup truck, his head in his hands. A local doctor had bandaged his palms with white gauze, making him look even less like the powerful man he used to be. He glanced at the locals gathered across the street. They weren't smiling anymore. They were eyeing him suspiciously. To them, he was no longer "Eli," the helpful neighbor. He was a lie who had brought fire to their quiet town.Leer más

Capítulo 20: La Junta dey Buitres

Al mediodía, el aire tranquilo de Seaside Point fue interrumpido por el sonido de un helicóptero. Dio una vuelta sobre el puerto antes de aterrizar en un campo cercano.Tres hombres con costosos trajes negros bajaron, con sus zapatos lustrados quedando ridículos en el barro de Oregón. Eran la Junta Directiva de Thorne Industries, y no tenían cara de estar contentos.Elías estaba en la parte trasera de la galería, lanzando trozos de madera carbonizada a un contenedor. Sus vendajes ya estaban sucios y su cara estaba cubierta por una nueva capa de hollín. Escuchó los portazos de los coches en la entrada y supo que el "mundo real" había llegado finalmente para arrastrarlo de vuelta.Los tres hombres entraron a la galería, tosiendo por el olor a humo. Al frente estaba Arthur Vance, el miembro más antiguo de la junta y un hombre que había conocido al padre de El&ia

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