Semua Bab RELUCTANT BRIDE FOR THE RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE: Bab 221 - Bab 230

AUTHORS POVTessa calling Pedro a terrible dad set fire to his bossom. He felt like dying, because for the first time in years he felt like a failure.The clock on the wall read 12:07 a.m. The corridors of the private hospital wing were hushed, the kind of quiet that only came with exhaustion, uncertainty, and faint antiseptic smells. The room where Dean lay was dim, lit only by a soft bedside lamp casting a gold hue over his small sleeping frame.Tessa sat on a recliner beside the bed, one arm wrapped protectively around her midsection, her other hand gently stroking Dean’s forehead. He had finally drifted into a peaceful sleep after hours of fever and cough. A mild infection, the doctor had said, but enough to leave a parent wrecked.Pedro stood near the window, a silhouette against the night skyline of Monterrey. His jacket was crumpled on a nearby chair, and his tie hung half-loosened around his neck. He had been pacing intermittently for the last thirty minutes.Neither of them s

AUTHORS The air inside Dr. Lucía Fernández’s therapy room always seemed too still—too quiet—for Pedro’s comfort. It was the kind of silence that pressed against his chest, urging him to speak, to confess, to feel. And that, more than anything, unnerved him. He sat stiffly on the corner of a wide cushion, trying to mimic the relaxed posture Dr. Fernández had suggested during their first session. Beside him, Dean sat with his knees tucked to his chest, his eyes focused on the same Lego blocks he always reached for. Week after week. It had been three sessions so far. Three long, heavy sessions. And each time, Pedro found himself hoping for a breakthrough—some spark of connection, a smile that lasted longer, a shared joke maybe. Instead, what he got was silence… or worse, those half-formed sentences that Dean would direct only to the therapist. Today wasn’t any different. “Dean,” Dr. Fernández began in her soft, even tone. “Can you tell us how you felt this morning when Papa as

AUTHORS POV The Lorenzo mansion hadn’t looked this festive in years. Golden balloons floated in bunches across the courtyard, shimmering in the early afternoon sun. Cartoon character cut-outs lined the entrance—pirates, dragons, and knights—all handpicked by Dean a week before. A magician stood near the fountain, adjusting his tall hat, preparing for the show. Servers flitted about in black-and-white uniforms, balancing trays of mini burgers and strawberry smoothies. Pedro stood at the top of the stairs, overseeing everything with a tense expression. He wore a navy blazer over an ironed black shirt, looking every bit the part of a wealthy, powerful father hosting his only son’s grand celebration. But beneath the expensive fabric, his stomach churned with nerves. He did not know what name to put to the torrents of emotions he was feeling, these past few months of being Dean’s dad had showed him a side of himself he never knew existed. Dean was five-going-on-six, and he hadn’t s

AUTHORS POVThe office was unusually quiet that morning.Tessa sat at her desk with her elbows propped on the smooth glass surface, fingers laced beneath her chin, eyes fixed on the empty coffee mug in front of her. Files sat untouched. Her laptop screen was still on the login page. She hadn’t been able to focus since she walked in.Her mind wasn’t here.It was back at the Lorenzo mansion.Back in Dean’s smile as he blew out birthday candles.Back in Pedro’s voice when he’d said, “Tell me what to do.”He’s changing, she thought. Or he’s pretending better than before. But which is it?The knock on the door snapped her back.Clarissa peeked in. “You’re not in a meeting, right?”“No. Come in,” Tessa said softly, straightening.Clarissa entered with a cup of hot tea in one hand and a little wrapped pastry in the other. She placed both on the desk.“You skipped breakfast,” she said knowingly.Tessa smiled faintly. “Thanks.”Clarissa sat in the chair across from her and studied her friend c

AUTHORS POVTessa hadn’t planned to stay.But after Dean clung to her hand, whispering “Please don’t go, Mummy,” and Pedro stood quietly behind him, saying nothing—just watching her with weary, guilt-ridden eyes—she found herself saying: “I’ll stay. Just for tonight.”Pedro didn’t smile. He only nodded once, as if afraid anything more would shatter the fragile truce.Upstairs, she helped Dean change into his pyjamas, the small Spiderman set she’d packed for him tucked into the overnight bag Clarissa had delivered earlier.“Mummy, are you really staying?” he asked as she brushed his hair back.“Yes,” she said softly. “I’ll sleep right next to you.”He grinned, gap-toothed and tired, and leaned into her touch. “Good. Daddy tried to make dinner. It tasted weird.”Tessa chuckled lightly. “Oh really.”“I would have him make something better next time” Tessa said.***The kitchen looked like a war zone.There was a blackened pot on the stove, the smell of burnt rice hanging in the air like