All Chapters of A Second Chance With Mr Steele: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Celia’s Point of View“My plans were finally falling into place” I murmured drumming my fingers rhythmically against the steering wheel as I drive into the busy roads of New York City, a sly smile playing at my lips as I drove through the dimly Lit streets. Despite approaching evening, The city was alive and buzzing with its usual chaosblaring horns, distant sirens, the occasional flicker of neon signs cutting through the darkness. But none of it mattered. Not tonight. Tonight was about control, about setting the pieces in place for the inevitable checkmate. The anticipation bubbling inside me was almost intoxicating.I pulled into the parking lot of a small, nondescript restaurant, a hole-in-the-wall place tucked away in a forgotten part of the city. I exhaled sharply, reaching for the hoodie on the passenger seat. Pulling it over my head, I adjusted the baseball cap snugly before sliding on a pair of oversized dark shades. A quick glance in the rearview mirror confirmed that I looke

Celia’s Point Of ViewI stood at the doorstep with the sweetest smile I could muster, watching Adrian as he adjusted his suit jacket before getting into his car. The morning sun bathed the front yard in a golden glow, and I tilted my head, letting it catch my face just right, the perfect picture of a caring woman seeing her man off to work. My hands eating on my little stomach, a reminder that I was carrying his seed.He paused, hand on the car door, and turned back toward me with a look I couldn’t quite read.“Have you noticed.. Has Lily been… off to you lately?” he asked, brows furrowed. “She was too quiet this morning. Didn’t even want to finish her cereal. And it's unlike her”I blinked innocently, letting my expression soften. “Oh, Adrian, she’s probably just missing her mother all over again or perhaps she's going through childhood stages. Kids get like that. I think she’s fine.” I stepped closer, brushing imaginary lint off his collar. “But if it will ease your tension I'd take

Celia’s Point Of ViewLying on the couch, I wasn’t really watching the movie playing in front of me. The sound was low, my eyes were glazed over, and my mind was a mess of too many thoughts, loose ends, timelines, careful steps I’d taken to make sure everything stayed perfectly hidden. But today... something felt off.Then my phone rang.I flinched, startled, glancing at the screen. Estate Security.A tight knot formed in my stomach as I sat up. They never called unless something was wrong. I hesitated a second, then finally answered.“Hello?”“Good afternoon, ma’am,” the voice said formally. “Just to inform you… Mr. Steele is driving in now. There’s a man in the car with him.”I blinked. “A man?”“Yes, ma’am. Both just passed the outer gate.”I hung up without another word, the phone still clutched in my hand as my mind tried to catch up.Who could Adrian be bringing here without warning me first? And why the hell was Security giving me a heads-up like I was a damn mistress about to

Emma’s POV It was hard to tell how long I’d been lying in this cold, stale cell. Time didn’t pass here… it just lingered, clawing at my sanity like a caged animal. The only sound that kept me company was the dull throb of my heartbeat, slow and distant like it was struggling to keep going. I no longer had the strength to stand much more to pace, to scream, or to even think clearly. I just laid there… waiting. Waiting to die. I could feel it… the way my body trembled for no reason, the way my lips stuck together from thirst, and how every breath came like a task I didn’t want to do anymore. My arms were scratched, my clothes now stink, I was able to breathe because I was so used to it that the stink, but that wasn’t what broke me. It was the absence of her. Celia hadn’t come in days. And that terrified me more than her presence ever had. What was she planning? Why had she disappeared? Was she going to kill me quietly now? Why wasn’t Adrian coming for me? I wanted to scream. I

Emma's POVAfter hours of non stop driving, the car stopped at a quiet house by the riverside. My body was aching, weak, and sore from everything I’d been through in months. The man who’d helped me out escape earlier opened the door and helped me out again, guiding me gently into the house like I was something fragile.Inside was plain… just a wooden table, a fan creaking softly above, and a single bulb casting shadows around. He handed me a cup of water. I gulped it down like I hadn’t tasted water in years. Then he placed a covered plate in front of me. Hot jollof rice and fried plantain.I didn’t even ask questions. I just dug in like a starved animal, stuffing spoon after spoon into my mouth. The flavors hit my tongue, and tears stung my eyes. I hadn’t realized how much I missed food, real food. Life. Hope.But then it hit me.Where did the food come from? Who the hell was he? Where were we? Why was he feeding me? Why was he being so kind? My grip on the spoon loosened.I looked up