Lahat ng Kabanata ng Falling For My Ex's Dad: Kabanata 191 - Kabanata 200

ADRIAN'S POVI was pacing.Downstairs felt suffocating. I’d already done at least five laps through the living room and hall, hands clenched, mind spinning. I hated not knowing.Clairessa had been in Dad’s office way too long. I couldn’t hear much, but whatever was going on in there—it wasn’t just a work conversation. It was more.Part of me wanted to charge in and pull her out, rescue her from one of his cold punishments or verbal scoldings. He didn’t take kindly to being challenged. And Clairessa?She’d walked straight into the fire without flinching. That’s what scared me. Her strength was undeniable—but she was in there alone. And I knew better than anyone how ruthless he could be when he felt threatened.Standing out here, helpless, was its own kind of torture.I crossed the distance in seconds, heart pounding, and moved to eavesdrop—but just as I leaned in to press my ear to the door, it flew open.Clairessa stormed out, fury etched across her face. She nearly collided with me,

Clairessa’s POV“Again.” I paced in front of my desk, back and forth. For now, it doubled as our makeshift pitch rehearsal space. “Start from the top—and this time, hold your ground during the close. That’s where your confidence always slips.”Adrian groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. He launched into the opening of his pitch for the fifth time that hour, fumbling his phrasing halfway through and glancing at me, clearly hoping for reassurance.“You’re still not projecting enough confidence.” My voice stayed gentle—so he’d understand it was a suggestion, not a criticism. “They want to believe in you. But that only happens if you believe it first.”“I’m trying,” he muttered, his eyes low, heavy with fatigue.We’d spent the entire weekend like this—little sleep, long days, and even longer nights.Me coaching. Him hanging on by a thread.We drilled everything—posture, tone, pacing, handling objections, anticipating questions. I cut him off mid-sentence, redirected his focus, refin

Clairessa’s POV We started down the sidewalk. The streets were quiet. A few cars passed, but nothing constant. Even the city seemed to be moving in slow motion. And so were we. Our pace was slower than I liked. It felt too casual—like a couple out for a lazy afternoon stroll. But that wasn’t what this was. This wasn’t that. Suddenly, he turned to me. “Clairessa.” I glanced over, guarded. “What?” “There’s something I need to ask you.” I slowed my steps, sensing the shift. “Okay. Go ahead.” His voice dropped slightly. “Have you forgiven me? I mean—truly, completely forgiven me? Let go of the past?” My feet stopped before I even realized it. So did everything else. I didn’t answer right away. I stared ahead, letting the question hang between us, giving myself space to search my heart—so I could be honest. Not just with him, but with myself. The truth was, the years with Adrian—the relationship, the hurt, that night—hadn’t really been on my mind. Not since I fell in love wit

Gabriel’s POV I checked the time again. Ten minutes late. Clairessa was never late. In all the time I’d worked with her, she’d never kept me waiting—at least not without a damn good reason. Once, maybe twice, she’d cut it close, but only because I’d sent her a meeting brief late. She never made excuses. She never let things slip. I kept my expression neutral, but inside, my thoughts were already spiraling. If she wasn’t here yet, something was wrong—and I had a damn good idea what. This had Adrian written all over it. He’d screwed something up. Again. I looked across the boardroom table at Randolph—CEO of Randolph Corporation. He sat stiff in a tailored suit, lips pressed into a line of disapproval. The impatience practically rolled off him. His board members surrounded him like statues—silent, unsmiling, their expressions heavily judgmental. Randolph tapped his fingers in an edgy rhythm against the glossy oak surface, then narrowed his eyes, locking onto me with an i

Gabriel’s POVAdrian flinched at my words—like I’d swung a fist.Why the hell did he look hurt?What did he expect? After everything that happened? After showing up late? After playing his part so poorly—so selfishly? Did he really think he could manipulate my emotions?That wasn’t going to work. Not anymore.“For what it’s worth,” Adrian said, his voice cracking, “these past few weeks… I gave everything I had to this project. God knows I tried—”I scoffed, bitterness rising like bile. “You gave your all? And yet you didn’t show.”My voice turned cold. “Enlighten me, son. What, exactly, was so goddamn important that you blew off a multi-million-dollar meeting and embarrassed everyone tied to your name?”He blinked, jaw working, but no sound came out. Finally, he muttered, “I… I don’t think you’d understand, Dad.”“No shit.”His face crumpled, shoulders sagging under the weight of guilt he couldn’t shake.I stared at him for a long moment, exhaling a breath full of emotion.“That’s wha