Todos los capítulos de After One Night With My Sister’s Prized Possession : Capítulo 101 - Capítulo 109

Before Jade can even get through the fifth page—her fingers still fumbling with the stack—the manager’s sharp voice cuts through the office. “VIP client is here. Hands on desks!” When was thirty minutes suddenly over? Mocha leans toward her, urgency flashing in her eyes. “You need to be in the boardroom now. The client just arrived. You’re project head—start moving, or you’re in trouble.” Jade’s breath catches. Her chest tightens, stomach twisting. Panic claws at her throat. “Move, Mia!” Mocha shouts, her voice sharp, almost desperate. Jade’s heart thunders. She grabs the papers, shoving them clumsily into her bag, fumbling at the strap. The VIP client is already moving through the hallway, imposing and confident, steps echoing. Jade picks up her pace, nearly stumbling over her heels. Her hands shake as she hustles forward, every nerve screaming, adrenaline pounding through her veins. She bursts into the boardroom, a gust of nerves and chaos trailing her. Her bag slip

Every nerve on edge. She straightens her shoulders, forcing control, even as her heart threatens to betray her. Fine. She doesn’t back down. . . When the presentation ends and the boardroom slowly empties, Jade finally exhales. It feels like she’s been holding her breath for an hour. Her palms are damp. Her fingers tremble slightly as she closes her laptop. The air still feels charged — thick with judgment, whispers, and the echo of Kain’s slow, deliberate applause. She doesn’t look at him. If she looks at him, she’ll feel it again. And she’s tired of feeling it. She stands, stacking the papers neatly, pretending she isn’t hyper-aware of every movement behind her. Then she feels it. That subtle shift in temperature. That familiar, dangerous warmth closing in. Him. Her breath stutters before she can stop it. Why am I still reacting to him like this? Why does my body remember him before my mind allows it? She almost laughs under her breath. Maybe he was never fully ou

…He was laughing. Bright-eyed. Seated on his grandmother’s lap, utterly unguarded. Elba Vanridge Wolf. The sight pierces her unexpectedly. Behind her, he stiffens. He hates that she sees this version of him. “So this is where you grew up,” she says quietly. “Parts of me were raised here.” “And the rest?” His gaze flicks to hers. “The rest learned not to be.” No sarcasm. No deflection. Nanny Flo gestures toward a wooden music box resting on the table. “Madam Elba kept this until her last day. She wanted you to have it.” The room stills. Kain steps forward and lifts it carefully. A melody spills into the room — soft, aching, fragile. Jade doesn’t move closer. She doesn’t touch him. She simply stays. And somehow that steadiness feels louder than comfort. As the tune continues, she drifts down the hallway. A framed photograph catches her attention. Teenage Kain. Holding a small child with protective ease. Her brows lift. Before she can ask, he steps behind her.

Kain is still fighting the faint sting in his lungs from the jasmine when he steps onto the pavement. The air feels too thin. His eyes are slightly red, jaw tight, irritation crawling under his skin. He despises weakness — especially the kind his own body forces on him. Losing control, even for a moment, feels like failure. He pulls out his phone and dials. She answers on the first ring. “Is it positive?,” Aunt Sylvia says immediately, straight to the point. No time for greetings. “Not yet.” His voice is clipped, carefully neutral. “And I hate that I’m doing this.” A beat. “But it’s working.” A soft chuckle hums through the line. “You owe me.” “I know.” “You owe me beautiful grandchildren.” Despite himself, his mouth curves. “Let’s not schedule my wife’s uterus like it’s a quarterly meeting. Children happen when she wants them.” “Please. So protective already?” “Always.” He doesn’t hesitate when he says as it settles into his chest. Silence stretches between them, thought

Then he turns, and the world simply stops.Their eyes meet, and Jade’s pulse stumbles, a frantic, uneven rhythm that betrays her. He stands there, half-clad and dangerous, exuding a raw authority that makes her twenty years feel like a lifetime away from his forty.“You’re… not red anymore,” she manages, her voice small.His gaze dips, heavy and intentional, as it brushes over her mouth before lifting back to her eyes. “Medicine works,” he says, his voice a low vibration. “Apparently.”There it is. That composure. That infuriating, adult calm that makes her want to scream or melt—she isn’t sure which.“I’m sorry,” she rushes out, the words tumbling over each other. “I should’ve remembered your allergy. I don’t know why I didn’t think about the jasmine—”“I’ll only accept your apology,” he interrupts, his tone shifting into something darker, more velvet, “if you make it up to me.”Jade’s stomach flips. The air in the kitchen feels suddenly too thin. “What do you want?”A slow, devasta