All Chapters of Terms and Temptations: The CEO spoils me silly: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Emma’s POV I woke up to the smell of espresso. And roses. Not a bouquet — a full trail, like someone had walked through the apartment dropping petals just to be dramatic. I sat up groggily, rubbing my eyes, only to find a single note tucked under my pillow. > Photos came out. You look like power itself. Figured you deserved to wake up like it. It wasn’t signed. But I didn’t need it to be. I got up, feet brushing against petals as I shuffled toward the kitchen. Xander stood by the counter in navy joggers and a black shirt, stirring his coffee like he hadn’t just pulled a whole rom-com move on me. He looked up, smirked. “Morning, wife-to-be.” I squinted at him. “Is this part of the contract?” He raised a brow. “What, the petals or the espresso?” “Both.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Only the petals. The coffee was just because I knew you'd be grumpy.” I narrowed my eyes. “You're laying it on thick.” “You’re stressed. You forget to eat. You talk in your sleep. And you thin

Robert’s POV She thinks she can forget me. Move on like I was a phase. A mistake. A bruise that faded. Emma. I say her name and it tastes like honey and ash in my mouth. Sweet and burned. Like something that should’ve been mine—but slipped through because I blinked. No. She doesn’t get to be happy. Not without me. Not with him. I saw the pictures—circulating like wildfire on social media. The rooftop dinner. That smug bastard Blake holding her like she’s his, like he knows her better than I do. Like he earned her. I know her. I know the way her voice tilts up when she’s lying. I know the little scar behind her ear she tries to hide with her hair. I know the way she looks when she’s hurting but pretending not to. That man doesn’t know her. Not like I do. He can buy her dresses and gold chains and rooftop meals, but he can’t give her what I gave her. Me. The realest part of her past. And maybe she hates me for it. Maybe she remembers the night I left like it was the en

Emma’s POV I didn’t think preparing for war and planning a wedding could exist in the same breath. But somehow, over the past week, my reality had become a tightrope walk between chaos and lace. One moment I was compiling files and sending encrypted messages to Tami. The next, I was sitting at a table with Xander’s sister Danielle and his mother, deciding between ivory and champagne napkins like the fate of the world depended on it. I was exhausted—but determined. Because somewhere between our mission and this marriage, I’d found something terrifying. I wanted this. Not just the justice. Not just the win. I wanted him. Even if it started as a contract. Even if it was complicated. Even if my heart still bore the scars of every betrayal. I wanted Xander Blake. And wanting him made everything heavier. --- The day started early. Too early. A 6:00 a.m. wake-up call from Danielle, followed by an hour-long hair and makeup session. She claimed it was a trial run for the big day

Emma’s POVI woke up early More like I didn’t sleep.Not really.I tossed and turned most of the night, eyes wide open in the dark, heart beating like a drum against my ribs. It wasn’t just nerves. It was everything—excitement, fear, stress, pressure. It was the sound of time slipping away. It was knowing that after today, nothing would ever be the same again.By the time the sun rose, I was already wide awake, sitting at the edge of the bed in a silk robe someone had hung for me. White, of course. With the word “Bride” stitched on the back in delicate silver thread.I didn’t cry.But I felt everything.---The knock on the door came just after 6 AM.When I opened it, Xander’s mom stood there—graceful, composed, dressed in lavender chiffon and diamonds. Behind her trailed a whirlwind: a stylist, a makeup artist, a nail technician, and two women carrying racks of shoes and gowns.“Good morning, sweetheart,” she said with a smile that somehow managed to calm and overwhelm me at the sam

Emma’s POV I woke up in his arms. The room was still dark, but not oppressively so. That kind of blue-grey dawn that hangs in the air before the city fully wakes. No birds chirping yet. No cars honking. Just that strange, suspended silence that makes you feel like the only two people in the world. Xander’s chest rose and fell beneath my cheek. Warm. Steady. Solid. His skin was hot against mine, and the steady thump of his heartbeat echoed into me like a secret rhythm. Something grounding. Something real. I blinked up at him. His face looked softer in sleep—less guarded, less sharp around the edges. Like all the things he usually kept locked behind a stoic mask had faded, just for now. His lashes were longer than I remembered. His lips slightly parted. There was a small scar under his jaw I hadn’t noticed before, and I found myself tracing it mentally, wondering what story it held. My fingers itched to touch it, to trace it gently with the tip of my finger. To ask him what it mea