Chapter 39: Cheated GF Revenge Lesson I (R+18)

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• Chasing my Bestfriend × Lover   Chapter 100: A Handsome Stalker

  ADRIAN'S POVThe applause was a physical weight, pressing down on me, threatening to buckle my knees. I stood on the brightly lit stage, a microphone still clutched in my hand, the projected slides of Ingrid’s groundbreaking research glowing behind me. “Thank you,” I managed, my voice a little hoarse, but the words were lost in the roar. Faces blurred in the auditorium, a sea of smiles and outstretched hands.My chest tightened with a familiar anxiety. This wasn’t my work, not truly. I was merely the messenger, the conduit for Ingrid’s genius, which now, sadly, resided in a hospital bed. She had slipped on the hotel stairs this morning, a nasty fall that had landed her in emergency, just hours before her most anticipated presentation. As her lead researcher and, more importantly, her friend, I’d stepped in. The presentation, meticulously prepared by Ingrid, flowed effortlessly, her passion and brilliance shining through every slide, every data point. I had simply narrated it, adding

• Chasing my Bestfriend × Lover   Chapter 99: A Girlfriend?

  DAMIEN'S POVAdrian’s presentation was flawless. He spoke with undeniable confidence, a natural ease that had always characterized him, even when he was just explaining the intricacies of a new board game. He moved across the stage with purpose, gesturing fluidly, his passion for the subject radiating into the hall. For the first time, since I arrived, I listened to a presenter in a seminar. Really listened. Not just to the words, but to the subtle inflections, the underlying brilliance of the mind behind them. He was captivating.Beside me, I heard a series of hushed giggles. I glanced over, my gaze narrowing. A group of girls, probably medical students or young residents, were huddled together, their faces flushed, eyes glued to Adrian. One of them leaned closer to another, whispering, "He's amazing, isn't he? So smart!" The other nodded vigorously, her hand clamped over her mouth to stifle another giggle.A hot, unfamiliar surge of anger flared within me. I didn’t exa

• Chasing my Bestfriend × Lover   Chapter 98: He's Alive and Thriving

  DAMIEN'S POVMy heart hammered in my chest, a frantic drumbeat against my ribs. It had been over a year, a desolate, agonizing year, since I’d last heard his name, since I’d last seen his face. A year I’d spent drowning in guilt and grief, believing him gone forever. But then, this morning, a mundane attendance sheet for a medical conference – of all things – had smacked me in the face with a name and a signature that ripped open old wounds and ignited a sliver of impossible hope: Adrian Gabriel Raines.I couldn’t believe it. Could it be him? The thought was a dangerous spark, threatening to ignite a forest fire of emotions I wasn't ready to confront. Still, I clung to it, a desperate man to a life raft. I had arrived early, staking out a prime spot near the grand entrance of the main hall, my eyes scanning every single person who stepped through the ornate double doors. The sheer volume of participants, a swirling tide of eager medics and researchers, made it a Sisyphean task. Faces

• Chasing my Bestfriend × Lover   Chapter 97: Her Protege

  ADRIAN'S POV The echoing words of Ingrid’s last plea, "You know it better than anyone. Please, Gabe. This is too important. Please don't let it go to waste," hammered against my skull. I was supposed to be in the audience, a silent supporter, watching Ingrid, my mentor, my friend, deliver what I knew would be a groundbreaking presentation to the international medical community. We’d spent months, and she, years, refining this research. It was Ingrid’s baby, her life’s work, and I was honored to have been brought along for the ride, to observe, to learn, maybe even contribute a little footnote here and there. Ingrid, with her sharp intellect and fiery passion, was a force of nature. She was the star, and I was… well, I was her protégé, her right-hand man, the one who knew the data inside and out, but never the one who would stand in the spotlight.But fate, or perhaps just a poorly lit flight of stairs, had other plans. A sickening thud, a gasp, and then Ingrid, amidst a heap of c

• Chasing my Bestfriend × Lover   Chapter 96: A Coincidence?

  DAMIEN'S POV The chill Paris air hit me like a slap the second I stepped out of Charles de Gaulle. The International Medical Expo. Just the name felt heavy, laden with expectations and… emptiness. It was the day before the main event, and the city buzzed in that frantic, stylish way only Paris could manage.I scanned the familiar surroundings. It was my third time here. The first, a lifetime ago, was a blur of childish wonder with Adrian clinging to my arm as we rode that damn carousel. His face, lit up with simple joy, the sound of his laughter… A pang of something sharp and agonizing twisted in my chest. The second… that was a mistake. A drunken hookup with a woman after a long conference day, while Adrian held down the fort back home. I still shudder at the memory of finding him pale and feverish in our penthouse, sick, overworked, and alone.Now? Now Adrian wasn’t here. And he never would be again.I heaved a sigh, the Parisian air doing little to lighten the weight on my chest,

• Chasing my Bestfriend × Lover   Chapter 95: Sudden Change

  ADRIAN'S POV Paris was everything I'd imagined and more. The architecture was breathtaking, the food was divine, and the air crackled with an undeniable energy. Ingrid, true to her word, threw herself preparing for the conference, Gayle and I, meanwhile, explored the city to our heart's content. We visited the Louvre, marveling at the Mona Lisa (and battling the hordes of tourists). We strolled through the Tuileries Garden, picnicking on cheese and baguettes. We climbed the Eiffel Tower, gazing out at the sprawling cityscape. But as much as I enjoyed the sights and sounds of Paris, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was searching for something else, something just beyond my grasp. I found myself drawn to certain places, certain moments. The smell of roasting chestnuts on a street corner. The sound of an accordion playing a melancholic tune. The sight of a couple holding hands on a bridge over the Seine. Each time, a flicker of recognition, a sense of déjà vu, would wash over me,