Todos os capítulos de Terms and Temptations: The CEO spoils me silly: Capítulo 111 - Capítulo 120

Xander’s POV I came back earlier than scheduled. Something just didn’t sit right. I couldn’t explain it—just a weight in my chest, like I was needed at home. Emma sounded okay on the phone, but I knew her. I knew the way her voice tightened when she was trying to hold herself together. And the fact that she didn’t mention anyone visiting made me all the more certain. When I walked into the apartment and saw her asleep on the couch, curled up like the weight of the world had finally pressed her down, I knew I’d made the right choice. She was clutching one of the baby’s onesies in her sleep. My heart clenched. Quietly, I moved to sit beside her and brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. Her breathing hitched slightly, like she knew I was near, even in sleep. “Hey,” I whispered. She stirred. Blinked. “You’re back?” “Couldn’t stay away,” I smiled gently. “You okay?” She nodded. “Just tired. Been a weird day.” “I know,” I murmured. “Your father stopped by.” Her eyes widened.

Emma's POV Sometimes love isn’t in the grand gestures. Not in the roses or candlelit dinners or dramatic declarations. Sometimes love is silence. A knowing glance. A warm hand resting over your belly as you fall asleep. That was the kind of love Xander and I were growing into. We didn’t always say everything. We didn’t need to. We were learning to read between the lines, to find safety in the quiet. And after all we’d survived, that kind of safety felt revolutionary. The world outside our penthouse buzzed with noise—media rumors, corporate transitions, social invites we mostly declined. But inside? We built a bubble. One filled with light meals, long walks, late-night conversations, and laughter that came easily now. This particular Saturday morning, I woke up to the smell of waffles and cinnamon. I padded into the kitchen barefoot, wearing one of Xander’s oversized shirts. My hair was a mess, but he still smiled like I was the best thing he’d ever seen. “Is that cinnamon?” I

Emma’s POV We decided to escape the noise. Between Belle & Hue’s relaunch plans, Xander’s expanding empire, and the whispers that somehow kept circling our names — it was time to breathe. Just for a moment. We booked a week in Santorini. Xander said it would be our baby moon, a celebration before life changed forever. I didn’t argue. The thought of walking sunlit cobblestone streets with him, waking up to ocean views, and being just...us, felt like the exact kind of magic I needed. When the plane touched down, I felt my soul exhale. The sky was too blue, the sea too endless, and Xander looked unfairly good in vacation mode — sunglasses, linen shirts, that smug grin that always made me forget my name. “First stop,” he said, helping me into the car, “the villa. Then gelato. Then a nap. In that order.” I laughed, resting my head on his shoulder. “You make everything sound like a mission.” “Everything involving you is a mission. One I fully intend to win.” --- The villa was perc

Emma’s POV I didn’t sleep much the night after the scandal dropped. Not because I was worried—it wasn’t fear keeping me up. It was the sheer weight of being watched. Scrutinized. The world had a magnifying glass over our lives, waiting to see if I’d shatter or fold or run. But I didn’t. I got up. I showered. I put on a dress that made me feel powerful—silk, soft blush, with subtle embroidery that caught the light. I didn’t hide. --- The kitchen smelled like espresso and cinnamon when I walked in. Xander had already made breakfast—croissants, scrambled eggs with just the right amount of chives, fresh fruit. He didn’t ask how I slept. He just handed me a glass of juice and kissed the top of my head. “You’re trending again,” he said softly. “But it’s not bad. People are calling you resilient. Brave.” I rolled my eyes but smiled. “Better than ‘scandalous mistress.’” He pulled out a stool for me. “They see you now. The real you. And they admire her.” I looked at him. “Do you?

Emma’s POV It started with a whisper. Just a few carefully placed words on a gossip site known for its venom. "Emma Davis-Blake—darling or deceiver?" I blinked at the headline. My coffee cup trembled in my hand. At first, I thought it was just another tabloid trying to stay relevant. But the article wasn’t speculation. It was laced with exact dates. Names. Half-truths twisted into dangerous narratives. They'd weaponized my past. Old photos from college. A cropped image of me outside a therapist's office. An anonymous source hinting that I had once "faked a mental breakdown to manipulate an ex." Xander’s face tightened as he read over my shoulder. Danielle was already pacing. “This wasn’t random,” she said sharply. “Someone fed them this. Timed it. Planted it.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “Who?” Danielle didn’t look up. “We both know who.” --- Robert and Diane. They’d always known how to twist perception. But this—this was calculated. And worst of all? It was wo