CEO Chasing His Reporter Wife
She lived a life where her sole goal was to provide support to her step-family who always abhorred her, even at cost of dropping her higher studies. She tried to love her husband, who always blamed her for everything without a brink of trust. She lost her own unborn child at the hands of her step-sister. But still not blaming the child her stepsister had abandoned, She adopted her—Despite her love and devotion, the child eventually left to join her birth mother, leaving behind the woman who had raised her from infancy. She lost her Ill mother without being able to be beside her at last moment of her life. She remained helpless to even protect her Mafia Uncle, who was thrown into Prison due to some internal betrayal. Being finally fed up with this life, standing on the balcony, Kiera looked towards Edward, her husband and with a saddened tone said," My life's biggest mistake was to meet you, Edward, I hope if there is any next life then We never met" Leaving those words, her body lurched back and fallen from the balcony. . . . . "What's happening, Kiera? Why are you leaving?" Edward couldn't fathom the sudden shift in Kiera's demeanor, as if she had become a stranger overnight. "It's nothing. I just want a divorce," Kiera replied, passing the documents and sitting with folded hands, her resolve firm in front of the man she had spent six years of her life with, now after getting another chance in life and reborn after 3 months of their marriage, she wished for nothing more than to part ways. "Hmm, this is unexpected, Kiera," a man with narrowed gaze emerged from the shadows, his eyes betraying a hint of surprise at the woman's significant decision. He took a seat beside her, casting a cold gaze towards Edward. "Sign it, Edward Abernathy." "May I ask who are you?" Edward's hand tightened on the armrest as he glanced at the unfamiliar man, sensing a strange familiarity in his cold demeanor. The man's narrowed gaze softened as his eyes briefly met Kiera's before a rare smile graced his typically cold expression. "Well, I'm just a CEO Chasing His Reporter Wife... "
[Volume 1] Chapter 15- Hostel room ..
Inside the hostel reception, the atmosphere was dimly lit, casting soft shadows that danced across the walls.
The interior of the girls' hostel was a blend of cozy charm and practical functionality, designed to make the residents feel at home while catering to their needs.
The reception area, where Kiera currently stood, was the heart of the hostel, buzzing with the activity of students coming and going.
The room was warmly lit by a series of pendant lights hanging from the ceiling, casting a soft, welcoming glow.
The walls were painted a soothing shade of pale lavender, adorned with framed photographs of past residents and local landmarks, creating a sense of continuity and community.
A few potted plants in the corners added a touch of greenery, their leaves rustling gently in the draft from the air conditioning.
The reception desk itself was a sturdy wooden structure, polished to a shine. Behind it, shelves were lined with files and keys, each meticulously labeled.
A bulletin board nearby was cluttered with colorful flyers and notices about upcoming events, study groups, and social gatherings, reflecting the vibrant life within the hostel.
Beyond the reception area, a hallway led to the common lounge, where a group of girls were lounging on plush sofas, chatting and laughing.
The lounge was furnished with a mix of modern and vintage pieces – a large, overstuffed couch, several armchairs with worn but comfortable upholstery, and a coffee table strewn with magazines and textbooks.
A television was mounted on one wall, currently showing a popular drama series, while a bookshelf against another wall was filled with novels, board games, and
Kiera, feeling a bit nervous, approached the front desk, her steps tentative but determined.
"Um, excuse me," Kiera said, her voice gentle and polite. She stood with a slight lean forward, her eyes seeking the receptionist's attention.
"Yes",The receptionist, a woman in her late thirties with sharp features and a stern expression, turned around slowly. Her initial neutral expression quickly morphed into one of anger and disgust.
"Oh, what fortune I have to see you here," the receptionist sneered, her lips curling into a mocking smile.
Her eyes bore into Kiera with a mix of hostility and derision. The words dripped with sarcasm, making the air around them feel tense and heavy.
Kiera blinked, taken aback by the unexpected hostility. Confusion etched across her face, her brows furrowing slightly.
She tilted her head, her mouth opening slightly as if to say something, then closing again as she tried to process the receptionist's reaction. Her heart pounded a little faster, a mix of anxiety and curiosity.
"Um, do you know me?" Kiera asked, her voice maintaining its polite tone but now tinged with confusion.
Her eyes searched the receptionist's face for any hint of recognition, but all she found was the same mocking expression.
She straightened her posture, trying to project confidence despite the unease bubbling inside her.
The receptionist let out a short, derisive laugh.
"Know you? Oh, I've heard plenty," she said, her tone dripping with contempt. Her eyes scanned Kiera up and down, making Kiera feel exposed and judged.
The receptionist's fingers tapped impatiently on the desk, as if Kiera's presence was an unwelcome interruption in her otherwise smooth day.
Kiera's mind raced, trying to recall if they had met before or if she had somehow wronged this woman unknowingly. But nothing came to mind. She took a deep breath, steadying herself.
"I'm sorry, but I think there might be some misunderstanding," she began, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. She held the receptionist's gaze, refusing to be intimidated.
The receptionist rolled her eyes dramatically, a gesture laden with disdain. She turned away with sharp, dismissive movements, her posture rigid and unwelcoming.
"Misunderstanding?" she repeated, her voice dripping with mockery and sarcasm.
"Please, how could I possibly misunderstand someone like you?" Each word was a dagger, meant to wound.
She sneered, her lips curling in contempt as she flicked her hand in a dismissive wave, as if to shoo Kiera away like an insignificant pest.
Kiera's face tightened, a mix of hurt and indignation flashing in her eyes. She squared her shoulders, refusing to let the receptionist's scorn diminish her.
"You don't even know me," she retorted, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside her.
"How can you judge so easily?" Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, the knuckles white with tension, as she fought to keep her composure in the face of such blatant disrespect.
Kiera's head throbbed with a dull ache as she struggled to piece her memories together. The pain only intensified with the receptionist's biting words.
It felt as though the woman harbored a personal grudge, but no matter how hard she tried, Kiera couldn't recall who she was or why she was so hostile. The frustration of not being able to place her gnawed at Kiera's already frayed nerves.
The receptionist, on the other hand, seemed to relish in Kiera's discomfort.
Her sneer was a cold, cruel expression that twisted her features into something almost grotesque. Her eyes gleamed with a malicious satisfaction, recalling their first encounter two weeks ago at the temple.
Back then, she had been hurling insults at some poor children, her harsh words echoing in the sacred space.
Kiera had stepped in, her voice cutting through the cruelty like a knife, calling the woman a fool who couldn't even act like a decent human being. The public humiliation had clearly left a lasting sting.
Now, standing before Kiera, the receptionist's movements were charged with contempt. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her stance defensive yet aggressive.
Her fingers drummed impatiently against her biceps, a subtle sign of her pent-up anger.
"So, do you remember me now?" she taunted, leaning in slightly as if daring Kiera to recall the memory.
The satisfaction in her eyes was evident as she watched Kiera struggle.
Kiera's hands trembled slightly as she tried to maintain her composure. She could sense the malice in the woman's words but couldn't grasp the reason behind it.
"I don't remember," she admitted, her voice strained.
"But it seems like you do."
The receptionist's laughter was cold and mirthless.
"Oh, I remember," she said, stepping back with a mocking flourish.
"I remember very well." She turned on her heel, leaving Kiera standing there, her mind a chaotic swirl of pain and confusion, and the realization that she had made an enemy she couldn't even recall.
After a while...
Click
As Kiera opened the door, she was greeted by a room that felt almost claustrophobic in its smallness.
The single bed, pushed against the far wall, seemed to dominate the space, its crisp white linens barely leaving any room to move around.
The light blanket at the foot of the bed was slightly askew, as if hastily adjusted.
A narrow desk, crammed into the opposite corner, looked barely sufficient for a laptop and a few papers.
Above it, the shelves were sparsely filled—just a few books and a small potted plant struggling for sunlight. The desk chair, though functional, appeared uncomfortable and out of place in such tight quarters.
Beside the desk, a tiny wardrobe stood, its doors barely able to open fully without hitting the bed. It was clear that it could hold only the bare essentials.