Semua Bab Hiding The Alpha’s Son: My Ex-Fuck Buddy : Bab 21 - Bab 30

VivienneI was told by Celestria—no, commanded—to sit beside a man I didn’t even know. Typical of her. And of course, my son Ace was tucked away in the kids' section with Lily, so I had no excuse to decline. Not unless I wanted to cause a scene.I slipped into the chair, feeling eyes on me before I even turned my head.The man beside me smiled, lips slow and knowing. “I’m Azaic. Celestria’s cousin.”His voice was smooth, like melted chocolate over a slow fire, and damn—his eyes. Ocean-deep, dark blue, just shy of sinful.He extended his hand and I took it, electricity humming through my fingers like a warning.“Vivienne.”“I know,” he murmured, his thumb grazing the back of my hand before letting go. “Been waiting for you.”I raised a brow, lips twitching in amusement. “Oh? That so?”“Mm-hmm.” His grin curled like a secret. “She told me all about you. Said you were ‘intoxicating.’ I get it now. And… she mentioned your child too.”My smile didn’t waver, but inside I felt a flicker of s

VivienneI woke up in my own bed, the cotton sheets tangled around my legs, sunlight slicing through the curtains like judgment. My arms instinctively reached to my side—and there he was. My son. Peacefully asleep, his lashes casting faint shadows on his cheeks, lips parted slightly as if dreaming of something innocent.I exhaled slowly, tension melting just a bit. At least we’re home. At least I got him out of there. The party last night was a goddamn circus—no, worse. A trap dressed in champagne and silk. And I had no idea how I left or who brought me home. Just a blur. A headache. And flashes of me arguing with Darius.God, Darius.I leaned over and kissed Ace’s forehead. He stirred slightly but didn’t wake. Good. He deserved rest—hell, I needed it too, but guilt was louder than exhaustion.Bits and pieces were floating around in my head. I remember yelling. I remember his eyes—dark, burning, accusing. I remember saying things I’d bottled up for too long. I think I might’ve called

Vivienne“What’s wrong with him?” I ask, feigning innocence while swirling the wine in my glass. My voice is all airy confusion, but my eyes? Sharp as glass.Celestria doesn’t skip a beat. She grins like she’s holding a secret weapon.“Well, don’t mind him,” she says with a laugh, sitting back like she’s hosting a show. “After all, he’s not into double dates. He wants it to be just the two of us.”She lifts her brows, lips curling in a wicked smile. Like she just dropped a bomb and expects me to flinch.As if I care.I give a little shrug, all nonchalance. “Then maybe he should’ve stayed home and played with his ego.”Azaic nearly chokes on his drink, grinning as he sets the glass down. “Ouch. Savage.”“You have to follow…” Shelby is suddenly signaling me from across the room, her face pale and urgent, eyes flicking toward the hallway like she just saw a ghost.My brows knit. I don’t know what’s going on, but Shelby never looks like that. Not unless it’s serious.“I’m sorry, I have to

DariusAnd I can’t help what Dr. Oliver was trying to tell me… but he was cut off.Because of Vivienne.Because the moment she stepped into the room, everything else blurred out. Even truth. Even clarity.But I didn’t chase after the doctor.Because I didn’t want to be someone who looks desperate. Not even when my world’s unraveling and every damn breath feels heavier than the last.She’s gone now.Vanished the way only Vivienne knows how to—no message, no goodbye, just empty echoes and the scent of her shampoo still clinging to my damn pillow.I told myself I wouldn’t look for her.Told myself I’d be fine.Told myself this kind of love was beneath me.But then why the fuck does every night feel like war?Why do I check my phone, like a fool, knowing there’s nothing there?Why do I walk into rooms half-expecting her to be sitting on the window ledge, bare feet tucked under her, rambling about stars or some stupid dream she had?I catch myself talking to her ghost sometimes.Not her re

Vivienne The mess should’ve ended by now.But no, here I am, sitting across from Zara in a low-lit restaurant, the clink of wine glasses and the low hum of jazz doing nothing to drown out the ache inside me.Zara takes a long sip of her sangria, eyes lazily scanning the couples around us before landing right back on me. “I think he loves you,” she says, like it’s just another harmless observation, like she’s commenting on the weather.I blink at her. “No. He wants me. There’s a difference.”She quirks a brow. “Wanting you that bad? With that intensity? That is love, Vivienne. Just dirtier.”My throat tightens. Dirtier. That’s exactly what Darius makes me feel—ruined, touched in places no one else even dared to look.“It’s wrong,” I whisper, voice barely above the soft jazz. I stir my drink just to avoid her gaze. “He—”“Why can’t you just tell him the truth?” she presses, crossing her legs. Her silver heels catch the light under the table like they’re mocking me.I let out a bitter