All Chapters of One Night Mistake By My Fiance's Uncle: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

"Oh! Don't take it to heart, Angelo. I can't help but think about it, especially remembering when Carlotta and I broke up; she let me have sex with her just before ending our relationship." I fell silent, feeling at a loss for words. Just then, my sister turned around and looked at us, a happy smile on her face as she walked over. "Uncle Clark, I’m hungry. I want fried chicken," she announced, approaching Clark instead of me. "Hmm, sure, Little Angel," Clark replied. "No!" I interjected. "You already had fried chicken last night; it’s not healthy to eat it all the time." "Oh, come on, just this once, brother," she pleaded, her voice softening. Clark raised his eyebrows, glancing at me as if he were eager to hear my response to Hannah's request. But I stood firm. "No!" I insisted, resolute in my decision to deny her another serving of fried chicken. With a look of desperation, Hannah turned to Clark, her eyes searching for support. "Why not try something different to

"L-let me go." I struggled to breathe as he tightened his grip on me. His eyes burned with anger as he glared at me. "J-jestony, what’s happening to you? Why are you acting like this?" I gasped, my voice barely escaping due to the pressure of his hold. "And you're still questioning me? If the person I sent hadn't called, would I even know that you met with Clark? You're wearing that outfit that almost exposes your soul. And for what? To seduce him and sleep with him?" He scolded me, his voice dripping with rage. Desperately, I grasped at his hand around my neck, trying to pry it away. "I-I have no intention of doing that." My voice trembled with fear. "No intention? Remember this, Carlotta: you are my wife now. Don't let me catch you talking to him again," Jestony warned, his tone icy and threatening. "No! Not anymore! P-please, let me go, Jestony… I can't breathe." My breaths were coming in shallow gasps, and I felt like I was on the brink of l

I frowned as I glanced in the rearview mirror and spotted the black car trailing me once more. It was unmistakable; those were my older brother's men. He was already taking matters into his own hands because I refused to stop being a thorn in his side. His businesses were collapsing rapidly. In a desperate move, he even approached one of my companies, mistakenly believing I could assist him without realizing I was, in fact, the owner of that company. I have no intention of backing down, especially since I'm gradually gathering evidence linking him to my mother's death, collaborating with his own mother. I refuse to let those who took my mother’s life escape justice, especially since our father dismissed her death as merely a result of high blood pressure. After remaining silent for six long years, I am finally prepared to unveil the evidence I have meticulously gathered. Yet, I will not act hastily. I plan to dismantle their lives piece by piece u

“Thank you!” I smiled at Angelo as he helped me clean up and get dressed. He responded with a brief, “Mmm,” then assisted me in lying back down on the bed. I realized it was time to stop pretending; if he discovered that I was feigning amnesia, it might upset him. I had already devised a plan to reveal to him that my memory had returned. “Get some rest. If you're sleepy, you should go to bed first. I still have some work to finish up,” he said. Each time he left the room, he placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, and I smiled as I watched him go. Once I was alone, I waited until I was certain he was in his library office before pulling out my cellphone. I instructed my assistant to prepare for my return the next day. It had been a week since my accident, and although I was still alive, my brother had already taken control of my company according to what my assistant informed me. He had assumed the responsibilities I left behind and told e

"Clark!" "Surprise, brother," I said, walking over to him. Since I didn't have a cast on one of my hands and my limp from the accident was almost gone, I seized Harold by the collar. Being slightly taller than him, I lifted him off his feet, forcing him to stand on his tiptoes. "I still respect you as my older brother, but what have you done? Huh?" My voice lacked aggression, yet each word carried weight. "H-how..." "How did I survive? You really wanted me dead when I fell off the cliff after being chased by your men and your friend's men, didn’t you? Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, brother. You failed." I said, pushing him slightly before releasing my grip on his collar. As I pushed him, he stumbled backward. I reclaimed my throne—the seat he had occupied for nearly a week after declaring me dead. “Since you started this, brother, I won't let you down. And while I still can hold my own, you're free to leave,” I warned him, preparing to