Semua Bab Goodbye, Mr. Ex, I’ve Married Your Uncle : Bab 61 - Bab 70

Scarlett’s POV.I was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the maternity box from the night before. The tags were still on most of it. A part of me had wanted to rip them off and stuff everything into the back of the closet just so I wouldn’t have to look at it.I was no charity case.But… After my encounter with Leon—I was starting to think he meant well in the gesture instead.Well, I hoped he did.I sighed, wiping loose strands of hair from my face. I was having trouble thinking straight. Even more so telling the difference between good and bad intentions.I couldn’t sleep, either. I’d closed my eyes, but my body stayed tense to a point that I couldn’t take it anymore, and got up again.So when the knock came, I was already sitting up, alert. My throat tightened.I didn’t answer right away, but the knock came again—firmer this time.“Scarlett. It’s me.” There was a long pause, then, “Can we talk?”Leon.He knew I was still awake.I hesitated for half a second before moving to

Scarlett’s POV.I tore through the rest of my drawers, every cabinet, every possible place it could’ve ended up—even places I knew I hadn’t put it. I kept trying to tell myself that I had misplaced it, that with everything going on I had somehow gotten confused and forgot it somewhere completely different.But in my gut I knew…I knew where I had put it.My hands were shaking and my throat was dry. The journal wasn’t anywhere.I stood there in the center of the room, heart pounding, palms slick, mind spiraling through every possibility.It was in that locked drawer. I always locked it for obvious reasons. No one could see what’s inside it.And now it was gone.Besides that it revealed my rebirth—my second chance at life—it contained all my raw thoughts—on the pregnancy, on Leon, on Dahlia and Dana, on Caden. Things I hadn’t even said out loud. Private things. Ugly truths. Fears I didn’t want anyone to see. Especially not now.If someone had taken it—if someone had read it—then they ha

Leon’s POV.I was halfway through closing my work in progress for the night when I spotted the folder sitting at the edge of my desk. It was Gavin Carradine’s proposal.I’d meant to pass it off to Ezra first thing in the morning, but something made me pause. It was the timing. The fact that Gavin—after years of rarely liquidating any core real estate assets—chose now to casually offer me a building. His expression during our meeting had been light, friendly. But the offer had come almost too easily, like it was meant to slide past unnoticed.I sat back down and opened the file.The numbers were solid. The building was in a prime location, and had decent renovation costs. Also, great district potential. On paper, it was a really good deal.But with everything going on, I didn’t care much about expanding right now.That was what I was thinking, until I saw it—the previous deed holder’s name. My eyes narrowed.Elodie Carradine.The name triggered something faint. Elodie. It wasn’t common

Scarlett’s POV.I ate the food Leon had brought for us, and I had to admit—it helped.But once Olivia left, the mansion felt too quiet. The kind of quiet that gave the noise in my head room to become much, much louder.I sat in my room with the curtains drawn, the leftover food waiting on the tray. The scent lingered, and I couldn’t bring myself to throw it out.I figured since I had my eye on it all this time, and as it was safe, I might eat the remainder of it once I get hungry again.There was something comforting it—the food made by Leon’s hands, and the gesture of it. I couldn’t really explain it.I also kept thinking about what Olivia said—about how Leon looked at me. How he brought food because he cared, not because he pitied me. That he treated me differently from everyone else.I scoffed under my breath.Care? No. He was doing what any powerful man would do when the heir he never planned for but wanted, was now growing inside me. It was guilt and obligation. A misplaced sense

Leon’s POV.I chose a location that wouldn’t draw any attention. A quiet, private lounge tucked away in one of the older hotels I owned, where the staff knew how to keep to themselves. Gavin was already there when I arrived, seated in a leather armchair by the window, a coffee cup in front of him and his phone placed face down.He rose the moment he saw me, greeting me with that easy charm he seemed to wear all the time. “Leon,” he acknowledged warmly. “I appreciate you making the time. I wasn’t sure you’d want to meet again in person about this.”“I make time for the right opportunities,” I replied, shaking his hand firmly before taking the seat opposite him.We exchanged a few minutes of polite talk before I leaned back slightly, keeping my tone light. “You mentioned that building the other day. I’m interested in seeing it in person before I decide. Tell me more about it—how old it is, the state it’s in, anything you think I should know.”Gavin smiled, clearly pleased at my interest