All Chapters of No Longer A Fool For You : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Matthew’s POV The sauce simmered softly on the stove, a rich, spicy aroma curling through the air. I gave it a slow stir, letting the warmth from the pan soak into my palm. The kitchen was quiet except for the gentle bubble of the pot and the faint hum of the fridge. Everything else was… calm. I glanced at the clock above the microwave. 7:47 PM. She should’ve been home by now. I turned off the burner, wiped my hands on the towel slung over my shoulder, and pulled the lasagna out of the oven. Golden brown. Cheese bubbling around the edges. It actually looked good—like I hadn’t just winged the whole thing off a TikTok recipe. I’d even lit the candles on the dining table. The good wine was already breathing in two glasses. I wanted tonight to be easy. Just dinner. Just me and Selene. No work, no arguments, no pressure. God knows we hadn’t had that in weeks. I was just setting the serving spoon next to the tray when I heard the front door creak open. Finally. I wiped

Selene's Pov As soon as the door to the living room clicked shut behind them Matthew carrying Sarah like some damsel from a bad soap opera I just stood there. Blank. And then I laughed. A small, bitter cough of disbelief escaped me. "What the fuck..." I dragged a hand down my face and let it fall. My other hand went up briefly, as if I was about to argue with thin air, then dropped just as fast. There was no point. Let them go play house. I had bigger things to worry about. Like the message. That damn message. I walked back into my room, shutting the door with my foot. I didn’t even bother locking it and If they wanted to accuse me of something else tonight, let them do that I was already tired. I sat at the edge of my bed. My fingers drummed on my knee and my mind moved in sharp, panicked circles. I needed to figure this out before it got worse. Before they figured it out. Before anyone else got that message. I needed someone smart. Resourceful. An

Collin's Pov The boardroom was suffocating. All glass, chrome, and ego. I sat at the head of the table, laptop open, untouched more for appearance than purpose. My fingers were steepled beneath my nose, pressing lightly into the skin as I tried to will away the headache that had been building for the past hour. Helen’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “I still don’t agree. We can’t just shift our entire campaign focus to the AI assistant model. It’s not ready. The prototype is barely functional, and we haven’t even finished consumer testing.” I resisted the urge to rub my eyes. Here we go again. “We need real-time data,” Marcus countered, his tone tense. “Feedback from early users. If we wait for perfection, the competition will beat us to it.” I’d heard it all before. The idealists. The realists. The alarmists. The ones quoting Apple and Tesla like they were prophets, not anomalies. “You’re gambling,” Elena said flatly. “Launching a half-finished product is reck

Selene's Pov It had been two months. Two long, silent months since I walked out of Matthew’s life and shut the door behind me literally and metaphorically. I hadn't spoken to him since, hadn't gone to the office either. I told myself it was to avoid drama, to give myself space, to heal. But deep down, I knew a large part of it was to avoid them him and his family. The first few weeks were rough. My phone buzzed constantly with calls from Matthew. I’d stare at the screen, heart pounding, thumb hovering over the decline button. Every call chipped away at my composure. It got to the point where I couldn’t sleep without checking if he had called again. So I did what I had to I changed my number. Peace came, but it was the kind that was quiet on the outside and chaotic inside. At least on the surface, things seemed to be going smoothly. I had started working from home, handling projects quietly, limiting contact with everyone except my assistant. I told everyone I

Selene's Pov I hadn't been to my father’s house in weeks. Maybe months, if I was being honest with myself. And it wasn’t like I hadn’t thought about it. I had. Several times. But every time I planned to go, something came up something always came up. And even when it didn’t, I just… couldn’t bring myself to go. But this morning, I woke up with a feeling. That kind of heavy, uncomfortable itch in the chest that doesn’t go away until you do something about it. So I told myself, today. The moment I stepped through the front door, I noticed it. Still and quiet, like always. The same scent of polish and age lingering in the air. But something about the atmosphere felt… stiffer. Like the house had been holding its breath. And then she appeared. The maid. I’d seen her before she wasn’t exactly new. But something about her still rubbed me the wrong way. I didn’t trust her and couldn’t trust her. Not with those eyes of hers. They always seemed too still, too watc