All Chapters of No Longer A Fool For You : Chapter 141 - Chapter 150

Cassy quickened her pace the moment she stepped away from the café. She hadn’t expected to see Kael there, seated across from a woman whose laughter rang through the glass like nails scratching across her heart. Mila. The name stirred a heaviness in her chest. She hadn’t stopped to watch, hadn’t wanted to, but the image was branded in her mind—Kael’s face turned toward that woman.Whether or not it meant anything, she refused to stand around and witness it. There was nothing binding her to him except a marriage that had been planned, arranged, and partly forced. Still, something about the sight made her stomach twist, and that was exactly why she hurried, tugging Timothy’s hand in hers. Her heels clicked against the pavement, sharp and quick, while her little nephew tried to match her stride. “Aunt Cassy,” Timothy puffed, his tiny legs moving in quick bursts, “why are you running from my dad?” Her heart jolted at the blunt question. She slowed just slightly so she wouldn’t

The rain had stopped hours ago, but Mila could still hear the faint dripping of water from the gutters outside her penthouse window. It was the kind of sound that grated against her nerves, a reminder that the world was moving forward while she was stuck—waiting, restless, consumed. She sat curled in the deep leather chair that faced her desk, one leg crossed tightly over the other, the heel of her stiletto tapping against the edge. Papers were scattered across the polished surface, not the usual business contracts or designs she once took pride in, but photographs—dozens of them. Most were angled shots of Kael, taken from a distance: Kael stepping out of his office, Kael at a gala, Kael with his son. And recently, the new ones—the ones she couldn’t stop staring at no matter how much they infuriated her—Kael with her. Her jaw tightened. Cassy. That was the name the investigator had whispered over the phone before agreeing to deliver the evidence in person. A name too simple, too pl

Kael had just come out of the bathroom, a towel slung loosely around his waist, when the door to his room swung open with a sharp click and a push. No knock. No pause. Just the sound of hinges giving way to intrusion.He froze mid-step, shirt half-pulled over his head, and yanked it down roughly before turning, irritation flashing across his face.“Mother!” he snapped, exasperation curling in his tone. “What is this? How many times have I told you—knock before you enter? Do you not understand the meaning of privacy?”His mother, unbothered, marched in like she owned the place—as though his adulthood and boundaries meant nothing. Her chin was tilted high, her eyes sharp with urgency.“Privacy?” she scoffed, sweeping her hand dismissively. “Don’t start with me, Kael. Can’t you see your so-called wife is crying her eyes out downstairs?”Kael blinked, the anger softening for a split second into confusion. “My wife is… crying?” His brows furrowed. “What are you talking about? Why would she

Cassy woke with a start, the memory of Kael’s kiss lingering like a soft flame against her skin. Her heart beat faster than usual, a relentless rhythm that refused to calm itself even as she lay tangled in the sheets. She closed her eyes, trying to will the sensation away, yet it clung to her mind, teasing and unrelenting. The taste of him—the faint brush of his lips against hers—haunted her, and for a moment, she wondered if she would ever get the image out of her mind. Hunger tugged at her stomach, a sharp reminder that the body refuses to ignore its needs, no matter how tumultuous the heart may feel. Lifting herself from the covers, she felt the weight of fatigue mixed with anticipation. Today, she would take control of something. She would cook—not out of necessity, but as a way to reclaim herself, to feel capable again amidst the chaos of emotions. Her mind raced as she walked toward the kitchen. Thoughts of Kael lingered, but she tried to shove them aside. She needed foc

Cassy pushed the front door open and stepped inside, a little tired from the long walk back but warmed instantly by the familiar scent of the house. The faint aroma of herbs and spices drifted from the kitchen, blending with the polished scent of the old staircase that curved up toward the second floor. She barely had time to take a breath before the sound of hurried footsteps thundered down the stairs. “Cassy!” Timothy’s voice rang out like a burst of sunlight. Cassy’s heart jolted as she looked up and saw the boy barreling toward her, his small arms clutching his exercise book as though it were something precious. His school shirt was half-tucked, his socks uneven, and his hair stuck out in different directions—but his grin was radiant. “Timothy, stop running or you’ll fall!” Cassy called quickly, her hand shooting out instinctively, though he was still several feet away. The thought of him tripping on the polished stairs made her chest tighten. But Timothy, as always, wa