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CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Last Updated:
2025-08-28 23:33:54
Latest chapter
The Fathers of My Child? CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
#Rico’s POV#I zip the small bag with a long sigh. It’s barely got much inside—just the essentials. A shirt. Jeans. A power bank. Toothbrush. My hoodie. One I actually stole from Victor’s place months ago but never returned.The garage is still dim, just peeks of early sunlight sneaking in through the high windows, painting thin shadows across the walls. My breath fogs a little, it’s colder than usual this morning. Or maybe that’s just me.I rub my palm down my face, slowly. I didn’t sleep. Not a damn wink.I kept replaying Dorothy’s head in my lap, the way her voice shook when she said she wouldn’t stop me this time. The way I almost kissed her. And the way I didn’t. Because I knew if I did, I wouldn’t be able to leave this morning.But I have to. Even if it kills me. I have to go.It’s not just about space. It’s about breath. I can’t breathe here. Not properly. Not when every hallway holds a memory. Not when Joel is still Joel and every damn second I spend near Dorothy I start think
The Fathers of My Child? CHAPTER SIXTY
#Dorothy’s POV#I stare at the ceiling. Just lie there, with my eyes open and my arms on either side of me like I’m frozen in a snow globe I can’t break out of. I haven’t even changed out of my house clothes. Haven’t brushed my hair. My mind’s a full warehouse of unfinished thoughts and heavy silence, and I don’t know which box to unpack first.The day started sweet. Dr. Malik’s visit felt comforting in a way I haven’t known since childhood. But then Paulina happened. And then Joel. And now… now I’m here again. Back in this room that used to feel like a cage and somehow now feels like the safest part of the entire villa.Except it’s not. Because my head is a mess.I hear something. Muffled arguing.Joel’s low but commanding voice. He’s not yelling but you can hear the tension through the walls. He's arguing with someone. Probably one of his business people. It’s not Rico. Rico never speaks that fast or that clipped. And thank God it’s not Rico. I couldn’t take more testosterone-fueled
The Fathers of My Child? CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
#Rico's POV#There’s something off about her.She hugged me, sure. Smiled like always, soft and small and trying not to let it tremble. But I know her well enough now to know when her lips are saying one thing and her body’s spelling another. Her shoulders were tense. Her hands lingered too long. Her eyes—shit—her eyes darted like she was worried someone else was listening.And the way she touched her stomach during that hug?Nah.Something happened while I was out. And if it’s what I’m thinking, and if that bastard Joel put his hands on her again, I swear I’ll punch his teeth into his throat and keep going till his mother can’t recognize him in hell.I’m pacing the hallway now. Phone in my palm, waiting for a damn call that’s supposed to come any second. I haven’t even had lunch. Hell, I haven’t even sat down since I got back. I’ve been chasing investors, negotiating contracts, begging dealerships to consider my pitch in Atlanta, and trying to clean up this mess of a life I used to c
The Fathers of My Child? CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
#Dorothy’s POV#I don’t know when my heart got so heavy, but it’s been sitting on my chest like wet fabric all morning.It started fine. Actually, great. The solarium smelled like fresh roses and chamomile after the maids cleaned it for Dr. Malik’s visit. The way he hugged me before leaving, told me I could always count on him, told me he’d be there as long as I needed him… God, it made my throat sting. It made the world feel safe for a split second.But the moment he drove off?Everything spiraled.It was the call. That damn call.#Flashback.#“Oh, splendid,” the woman said in that oozing voice. “Well, this is Paulina Voss… I’m guessing you already know who I am.”The name froze in my ear like an ice cube.I didn’t say anything immediately. My voice was stuttering like a toddler learning to lie.“I—I’m sorry, who?”“Oh, come off it,” she scoffed. “No need to pretend. You’re Dorothy, right? The poor little lamb they dumped in Rico’s path to play dress-up wife.”My stomach clenched. My
The Fathers of My Child? CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
#Joel’s POV#You know what’s funny?I built this entire house. Oversaw every goddamn detail—from the imported tiles to the tech-embedded furniture to the placement of every last security cam—and now I sit here watching it all like some outsider needing confirmation of what he already knows.The clip replays.No sound. Just the daunting, silent loop of betrayal.Rico… carrying Dorothy. Like some fucking hero from a slow-burn romance movie. Her arms limp around his neck. Her head resting against his chest. Her body… his responsibility.My hand spins the Rubik’s cube faster.Click. Click. Click.It’s solved already. I’m not solving anything. Just... stalling.I lean forward again, watching as Rico walks through the foyer with her, straight past the entrance of our bedroom.The security guards behind me shift on their feet. Two of them. Young and dumb. Standing stiff like they walked into the wrong room at the wrong time. They’re silent. I haven’t said anything yet.But they know.They al
The Fathers of My Child? CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
#Dorothy’s POV#When I woke up, the first thing I remembered was his bare, rough, and low voice near my ear.“I don’t need your body. I need your peace.”I didn’t even know I was smiling until I caught myself humming in the bathroom.That one line somehow held me together in a way nothing else has in a while. It didn’t fix me. But it made the air feel easier to breathe. Like maybe something doesn’t have to break to feel real.I didn’t see him this morning, though. He was already gone before I came out. I texted him asking if he’d eaten before he left, and he replied with “I’ll grab something out.”Typical Rico. Short and annoyingly casual.Still, I find myself replaying that whisper more than once as I move about the villa. No tests today. No appointments. No poking, no scans, no freezing lights and questions I don’t know how to answer.Just... peace.Sort of.Dr. Malik texted earlier to say he’d stop by for a home visit—off hours. Which meant I got up and told the maids to prep the s
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