The CEO’s Unspoken Love (Eleanor and Derek) novel Chapter 112

Chapter 112

Eleanor POV

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Derek’s fingers remained tight around my wrist, his grip just shy of painful. I tried pulling away again, but he held firm, his eyes darkening with something possessive that sent contradictory shivers down my spine-fear mingled with a treacherous hint of desire. The plush hallway carpet beneath my feet seemed to tilt slightly, as if the entire resort was shifting with the tension between us.

Through the nearby window, moonlight spilled across the snow-covered mountains, casting everything in a cold blue glow that matched the winter in Derek’s eyes. Steam rose from the outdoor hot springs below, curling into the night air like ghostly fingers.

“We’re not finished talking,” he said, his voice low and controlled, reminding me of board meetings where he’d quietly dominate

room without ever raising his tone.

The sound of approaching footsteps made me glance over my shoulder, relief washing through me when I spotted Seraphina turning

the corner. Her auburn hair caught the soft hallway lighting, making it appear almost flame-like against the dark wood paneling of

the walls. Her steps faltered when she noticed us-Derek’s hand gripping my wrist, my body half-turned away from him, the

unmistakable tension vibrating between us like a plucked wire.

“Oh,” she said, her voice carefully modulated to sound casual, though her eyes narrowed slightly at Derek’s hold on me, her pupils

dilating with something that looked remarkably like jealousy. Am I interrupting something?”

I seized the opportunity, my heart still hammering against my ribs. “Not at all,” I said quickly, pulling harder against Derek’s grip.

This time he released me, though reluctance was written in every line of his body-the slight forward tilt of his shoulders, the

flexing of his jaw, the way his fingers curled into a loose fist as they fell to his side. ‘Derek was just leaving.”

Seraphina took a step closer, her emerald sweater making her pale skin look almost luminous against the dim lighting of the

evening hallway. “I actually wanted to catch you, Derek. You left your suit jacket in my room earlier.”

The implication hung in the air like heavy perfume. I felt my stomach twist despite myself, a sharp, sudden pain that I had no right

to feel anymore. My wedding ring had been off for weeks now, the pale circle of skin where it had rested gradually fading back to

match the rest of my hand.

“I don’t have a jacket in your room, Derek said flatly, not even looking at her, his eyes still fixed on me with an intensity that made

it hard to breathe properly. “If there’s something there, just get rid of it.

A flash of hurt crossed Seraphina’s perfectly composed features before she recovered with a practiced smile that didn’t quite reach

her eyes. Her fingers fidgeted briefly with the sleeve of her sweater-a rare tell from someone usually so controlled. “You really

should keep better track of your clothes. I’ve practically collected a whole wardrobe of your cast-offs by now.”

I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped me, the sound sharp and brittle in the quiet hallway. “How nice for you to serve as

Derek’s personal second-hand clothing depository.”

Seraphina s cheeks flushed slightly, the only crack in her polished veneer. She tossed her hair back and walked away without

another word, her heels clicking rhythmically against the plush carpet, each step like a tiny punctuation mark to her humiliation.

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Chapter 112

Derek turned back to me immediately, as if Seraphina had been nothing more than a momentary distraction, a gnat swatted away

without thought. His eyes fixed on me with laser-like intensity, reminding me of that night at the Windsor Club when he’d broken

down a door to reach me.

“What do you want, Derek?” I asked, keeping my voice low, conscious of the public setting and the thin walls of the resort. The

scent of cedar and pine from the wooden beams above us mingled with the faint smell of Derek’s cologne-sandalwood and

something uniquely him that brought back memories of sheets twisted around our bodies, of whispered promises in the dark that

never lasted until morning.

‘I want to know what game you’re playing,” he said, his voice equally quiet but edged with steel. The vein in his temple pulsed

slightly-a sure sign he was struggling to contain his emotions. First Alexander, now James? You certainly move quickly from one

man to the next.”

The accusation stunned me, landing like a physical blow. The same man who had barely acknowledged my existence during our

marriage, who had fled to London at the first opportunity, now stood before me claiming the moral high ground? “Excuse me?”

“It’s fascinating, really,” Derek continued, his tone deceptively casual while his eyes remained cold as the winter landscape outside. One hand rested against the wall beside my head, not quite caging me but definitely invading my space. “How skillfully you play with people’s emotions. Did you ever actually have feelings for anyone, or is this all just some elaborate performance?”

I felt heat rising to my face, indignation making my hands tremble. My nails dug into my palms as I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to slap him. That’s rich coming from you,” I hissed, struggling to keep my voice down despite my growing anger. “You’re accusing me of playing with emotions? You, who couldn’t even pretend to be faithful during our marriage? Who made me feel like

an inconvenience from the moment we said ‘I do?”

His proximity was disorienting-too close to think clearly, yet not close enough to satisfy that treacherous part of me that still craved his touch. The hallway seemed to narrow, the walls closing in around us until there was only Derek, his breath warm against

my face, smelling faintly of mint and expensive whiskey.

I’ve always tried to understand where this hostility comes from, Derek said, taking a step closer, forcing me to back up until I felt the smooth wood of the wall against my shoulder blades. His eyes searched mine, looking for something I wasn’t sure I wanted him

to find. What exactly did I do to make you so defensive around me?”

The question broke something inside me-a dam I’d carefully constructed over the past three years. “What did you do? You’re joking, right?” My voice trembled with pent-up anger, each word laced with the countless nights I’d spent alone, wondering where he was, who he was with. “Your chest is so magnanimously broad, able to accommodate a hundred women at once, and you wonder why I’m defensive? You treat our marriage like a business transaction, then act surprised when I don’t fall at your feet in gratitude?”

I turned sharply, intending to retreat to my room, needing space to breathe, to think.

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The CEO’s Unspoken Love