My Ex-Fiancé's Hot Daddy

The Black Forest no longer carried the soothing scent of pine. To me, the smell of damp earth and sharp pine needles was now the stench of a shallow grave. My body dragged across thorny brambles as I continued to crawl. Every inch of my torn skin felt like it was on fire, but the physical agony was nothing compared to the crushing weight in my chest at the memory of Adrian Blackwood’s face—the man who was supposed to recite holy vows to me at the altar next week in London. "Forgive me, Elaine. But Sienna is carrying my child. She needs recognition, and you... you just need to rest forever," Adrian had whispered two hours ago, right before he shoved me into a shallow ravine on the edge of this German forest. I had been unconscious for two hours. It was exactly midnight when we arrived here, and he discarded me like common refuse. Before leaving, he didn’t even bother to make sure I was dead. He was too much of a coward to look at blood. He simply threw me away, hoping the freezing

London always knew how to hide its secrets behind a thick shroud of fog. Inside the majestic stone mansion on the outskirts of Belgravia, I no longer felt like the pitiable Elaine Vance. Here, under the heavy shadow of Alistair Blackwood, I was a masterpiece being meticulously restored. A week had passed since Adrian discarded me in the Black Forest during our journey to a private resort. He thought the silence of the woods would swallow my corpse. But fate had other plans when his father, Alistair—a man who had spent twenty years in self-imposed exile from his son's scandals—found me on that freezing asphalt. "Stand tall, Elaine. A Blackwood does not bow their head, not even before the Angel of Death." Alistair’s voice shattered the silence of a dressing room larger than my old apartment. He stood in the doorway, clad in a perfectly tailored three-piece tweed suit. In his hand, he idly fiddled with a gold pocket watch—a symbol of ancestral power. I stared at my reflection in

Vance Global’s headquarters—now officially under the iron-clad oversight of Blackwood Enterprises—felt like a frozen battlefield. The click of my stiletto heels echoed sharply against the granite floors of the main lobby. The staff who once knew me as Elaine Vance, the "missing" heiress, watched me with hushed, fearful whispers. They saw a "ghost" walking with her chin held high, clad in a steel-grey couture power suit that hugged my curves perfectly. Alistair had intentionally chosen not to arrive with me this morning. "Let the little wolves think you are alone," he had whispered at the breakfast table while fastening his cufflinks. "Show them that even without me by your side, you are the storm." I strode into the main boardroom without knocking. Inside, Adrian stood by the massive window, while Sienna sat in the chair that once belonged to my father, nonchalantly polishing her nails. She acted as if she didn't have a single care in the world. "Get out of that chair, Miss Montg

Alistair’s kisses still lingered, radiating from my cheeks down to my throat. I knew we were beginning to cross a line; I also knew Alistair wouldn't stop unless I was the one to call an end to it. But what we were doing was also a transaction, one I couldn't simply walk away from. "Alistair..." I whimpered amidst a kiss that was growing increasingly feverish. "Hmm?" He hummed against my skin, his body pinning me against the desk. I could feel the hard evidence of his desire pressing against the crook of my thigh. "Are you sure we should do this? Here? Right now?" I asked, my breath hitching in my chest. The touch of this man’s large, calloused hands sent a surge of electricity through me that was far more intoxicating than anything I had felt with Adrian. It wasn't that I was untouched; Adrian and I had been together for a long time, and we certainly had our moments of intimacy before he discarded me. But this was different. I realized Alistair wasn't just touching my sensitive

The classical music drifting through The Ritz ballroom slowly faded as Alistair and I stepped out into the chilling lobby. My breath was still heavy. The bravado I had donned in front of Adrian and Sienna was beginning to crack, leaving behind a tremor that raced to my fingertips. "You’re shaking," Alistair’s voice broke the silence as he guided me toward a secluded table. He led me away from Adrian, who didn't dare follow us. I tried to take a deep breath. "I just... I didn't expect Adrian to go that far. Using a detail as small as a favorite drink to bait me." Alistair didn't answer immediately; he simply handed me a glass of water to calm my nerves while he composedly sipped his wine. "He knows you better than I care for, Elaine," he whispered, standing so close there was no space between us. His breath carried the scent of oak and expensive cigars. "The fact that he remembers the Rosemary Gin Fizz makes me want to erase every memory he has of you." "Alistair, it's just the p