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Chapter 17

Author: Devika
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2025-12-14 15:22:10

Veronica's POV.

The apartment was quiet for me.

Too quiet.

A little too much to handle, so much that it felt too large for my pounding heart.

Four moved around with that effortless precision I couldn't stop noticing.

Every moment, every glance, every tilt of his head seemed deliberate to me.

Like it was measured, as if he existed in a well I didn't fully want to belong to.

But it was one I craved.

He came back from the kitchen holding two mugs of steaming coffee.

The aroma curled around me, r
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    Veronica's POVFour stopped eating. I watched him disappear into himself over the following days, his eyes hollow and distant. He sat in the nursery we had painted together, staring at the empty crib like it was a grave. The lavender walls that had seemed so hopeful now felt like a mockery. Every baby item we had carefully chosen felt like a promise we might not be able to keep."This is my fault," he said one night.His voice was flat, dead. "I am cursed. Everything I touch gets damaged. My father damaged me and now I am damaging my daughter before she is even born."The words cut through me like glass. I wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but I knew logic would not reach him right now. Fear had wrapped around his heart like a vice and he could not see past it. So instead I knelt in front of him, taking his cold hands in mine, forcing him to look at me.

  • I don’t want him back: Divorcing the Billionaire   Chapter 200

    Four's POVMarcus Reynolds cried for twenty minutes straight. Dr Chen sat quietly, letting the grief pour out of him. I watched this broken man sobbing across from me and understood something fundamental. We were both victims of my father. Different kinds of victims but victims nonetheless.When Marcus finally caught his breath, he looked at me with raw vulnerability. "I have spent twenty-eight years hating. Hating your father. Hating you. Hating myself for not saving my dad somehow. The hate ate everything. My marriage. My relationship with my kids. My entire life became about this one horrible thing.""I understand that," I said quietly. "My father made me into someone I hated. I spent years trying to escape what he made me.""Tell me about him," Marcus said suddenly. "Your father. What was he really like?"So I told him. Not the sanitised version but the truth. I

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    Four's POVThe lawyer's office smelled like old paper and secrets. I sat between Veronica and Elena, staring at the small recording device on the table. Marcus, my attorney, stood by the window. Elena's lawyer sat across from us. Nobody spoke. We all knew what was coming."Are you ready?" the lawyer asked.I was not ready. I would never be ready. But I nodded anyway.He pressed play.My father's voice filled the room and I stopped breathing. I had not heard that voice in years but my body remembered it instantly. Every muscle tensed. My hands curled into fists. Veronica grabbed my arm, anchoring me."This is the confession of Antonio Lasombra," my father's voice said. Calm. Measured. Like he was discussing stock portfolios instead of murder. "I am recording this because I want the truth known after my death. Not for redemption. I d

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    Veronica's POVFour stopped sleeping. I watched him deteriorate over three days, pacing the house at night, jumping at shadows, refusing to talk about the nightmare that woke him screaming. He looked haunted in a way I had not seen since the early days after we first met. This was different though. Deeper. Older.On the fourth morning, I found him in Monte's room at dawn, just watching our son sleep. His face was wet with tears."Four," I said softly.He turned to me and I saw real fear in his eyes. Not the controlled vigilance he usually carried but raw terror."I think I remember," he whispered. "I think Elena was right. I think I watched my father kill someone and I buried it so deep I convinced myself it was a nightmare."I crossed the room and took his hands. They were ice cold."We need to call Dr Morrison," I said.

  • I don’t want him back: Divorcing the Billionaire   Chapter 197

    Four's POVThe café smelled like burnt coffee and regret. I sat by the window, watching strangers pass, wondering if any of them carried secrets as heavy as mine. My phone buzzed. She was here.Elena walked in and I recognised her immediately. Not from resemblance but from the way she moved. Guarded. Careful. Like she expected the world to hurt her and had learned to hurt it first. She was thirty-five, dressed in a sharp blazer that screamed lawyer, her dark hair pulled back tight. But it was her eyes that stopped me. Cold grey eyes. My father's eyes.She sat down without greeting me. No handshake. No smile. Just assessment."You look different from what I expected," she said."So do you."She ordered black coffee. I already had mine, though I had not touched it. The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken histories and shared damage.

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