บททั้งหมดของ I Said Yes to My Ex's Enemy: บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

　　Somewhere between the surge of reposts and media coverage,a legal document quietly leaked—partially redacted,but detailed enough to raise alarms.The date.The charge.The vague outline of an incident.　　Mike zoomed in on one line.　　“Suspect arranged for a third party to carry out a calculated vehicular collision.Minor exterior damage reported.”　　His heart skipped.　　Another line stood out:　　“Incident occurred a month ago.Location:Lexford Boulevard,directly in front of the A Design building.Victim declined to press charges.”　　Mike’s fingers froze on the screen.　　Lexford Boulevard.　　He knew that street.It was the main drive right outside their company.　　He scrolled further,eyes locked on the faint scan of a traffic report attached near the end of the document—blurred plate numbers,incident time,vehicle model.　　And there it was.　　His eyes locked onto it.　　The license plate number.　　He knew that number by heart.　　It was Emily’s.　　Mike’s throat dried.　　He thought she was just

Adrian glanced at her—really looked—and then,without a word,he slipped an arm under her knees and the other around her back. Emily gave a soft gasp of surprise as he lifted her. “Adrian—” But he only smiled,quiet and sure,and carried her the short distance to the nearby sofa.He set her down with care,like something precious.His hands didn’t leave her—not right away. The sofa was too small for this. That was the first thought that flickered through Adrian's mind as Emily's back met the cushions,her legs bracketing his hips. He leaned in again,kissing her this time with more weight,more intent.One of his hands came up to cup her cheek,his thumb brushing lightly beneath her eye before trailing down along her jawline. Emily’s breath caught. His other hand settled gently at her side,fingers pressing lightly through the soft fabric of her top,seeking the curve of her waist as if reacquainting himself with something he already knew by heart. The kiss deepened aga

　　Emily gasped,her body arching,the intensity of him overwhelming in this new position.　　His movements were fierce now,each thrust a declaration of his love,powerful and unrelenting,as if he could pour every ounce of his devotion into her.　　The sofa groaned beneath them,its creaks a wild counterpoint to the rhythmic slap of skin,the lakehouse itself seeming to pulse with their fervor.　　Emily’s hands slipped on the leather,her nails scraping as she struggled to hold on,each thrust sending shockwaves through her.　　Her breaths came in desperate pants,her body trembling with the force of his passion.　　Adrian’s love was a tangible thing,wrapping around her,consuming her—every movement,every touch,a vow that she was his everything.　　His hand slid up her side,fingers splaying across her ribcage,steadying her as he drove deeper,his other hand tangling in her hair,gently tugging to tilt her head back.　　His lips found her ear,his ragged breaths hot against her skin,each one carrying the w

　　On Friday, they set off to visit Adrian’s grandparents at the old family estate. The couple had just returned from a long trip abroad, and a few other relatives were expected to drop by as well.　　The moment they turned off the country road and onto the estate’s private drive, Emily’s breath caught.　　The house—if it could be called that—rose gradually into view beyond a stretch of old-growth trees and manicured hedges. It wasn’t just large. It was sprawling. Grand. The kind of place that looked like it belonged on a sepia-toned postcard or the cover of a historical novel.　　Stone walls climbed three stories high, softened by ivy and trimmed with tall windows that reflected the early afternoon sun. A circular driveway wrapped around a mossed-over fountain, and off to one side, a row of trimmed cypress trees led toward what looked like an old carriage house—now repurposed, judging by the modern glass extension behind it.　　Terraces unfolded along the back, facing distant vineyards. T

Dinner had been long and warm—full of gentle teasing, passed dishes, and stories that unraveled like ribbon from one generation to the next. Emily had listened, laughed, contributed where she could, but mostly watched. Watched Adrian relax into the rhythm of his family, watched the way he refilled her glass without needing to ask, how his hand found hers under the table like it had always known the way there. After dessert, they played a few rounds of an old family board game in the parlor—something involving cards, dice, and mild accusations. Lila nearly cried from laughing. Emily felt a strange comfort in the chaos, like she’d been folded into something older and deeply familiar. By eleven, the house was winding down. One by one, relatives excused themselves with soft goodnights. Adrian stayed behind to wrap up some final emails on his laptop. Emily slipped away upstairs. The guest room they’d been given was quiet, wrapped in the hush of polished wood and thick curtains. E