บททั้งหมดของ Terms and Temptations: The CEO spoils me silly: บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

Robert's POV "This doesn't make sense!" I slammed my fist against the desk, rattling the half-empty glass of whiskey beside me. "Why isn't it working? Why are they still together?" The photos should've torn them apart. The media had picked it up instantly—images of Emma hugging me at the gallery, that one shot where she looked like she was about to kiss me. It was gold. Damning. Proof of an affair, or at least it should've been. But Xander Blake hadn't said a word. No press conference. No outburst. No dramatic exit. Instead, there were more pictures. Honeymoon photos. Her in a flowy white dress, smiling like she'd won the damn lottery. Him beside her, looking like a man in love. In love. With her. Diane paced the room, arms folded, expression sour. "Maybe they didn't see the photos yet," she said. I shot her a look. "They're everywhere, Diane. 'Billionaire's Cheating Wife' trended for two days. You think they missed that?" She shrugged. "Then maybe he doesn’t care. Maybe your

Emma’s POV I woke up this morning with a weight on my chest. It wasn’t Xander’s arm—it was something heavier, deeper. Something unspoken that had snuck into the room while we slept. I blinked into the soft golden morning light, feeling his breath against my shoulder. He was still asleep, his presence calm and steady. And yet, the uneasiness inside me was sharp enough to slice through the quiet. I shifted carefully, not wanting to wake him, and stared at the ceiling. Everything should’ve felt perfect. I was on my honeymoon with a man I was slowly, dangerously, falling for. Last night had been magical—the dancing, the moonlight, the way he looked at me like I was his world. He even gave me a bracelet. Not a symbol of ownership. A symbol of care. But today… something felt wrong. I slipped out of bed and tiptoed to the window, drawing back the light curtain. The ocean stretched endlessly in the distance, soft waves crashing against the shore. Paradise. That’s what this place was sup

Emma's POV We arrived back in Manhattan late that evening. The air smelled different. Like worry. Like unfinished business. I stepped out of the car and instantly felt the weight of everything we had temporarily escaped. The flashing lights of the city, the faint buzz of gossip that never truly dies here, and that unshakable knot in my stomach—it all returned with the bitter chill in the air. Xander held my hand tighter than usual, as if he too could feel the shift. Danielle met us at the penthouse, phone glued to her hand, eyes stormy. "You need to see this," she said, no greeting, no warm welcome. She turned the phone toward us and hit play on a video. It was grainy, shaky, filmed from across the street—but clear enough to show Robert and Diane entering a building. My building. The one I grew up in. The one I never went back to. The one that haunted me. I felt my breath leave me. "Why would they go there?" I whispered. Danielle looked at me carefully. "You tell us." Xand

Emma's POV I never thought I would willingly sit in front of a camera to talk about my childhood. But there I was. In our home studio, surrounded by soft lighting, one camera, and Danielle perched on a stool behind the lens, silently mouthing, "You got this." Xander stood to the side, arms crossed over his chest like a fortress around me. His presence anchored me. His eyes never left mine. "Are you sure you want to do this?" Danielle asked one last time. Her voice was cautious, but there was pride tucked behind it too. I nodded. "Yes. I’m tired of letting other people tell my story." She hit record. I took a slow breath. "My name is Vivian Emmanuella Davis. But most people now know me as Emma Blake." The words felt heavy but honest, like shedding old skin. "There’s been a lot of talk recently. Pictures. Headlines. Documents pulled from places I thought I'd buried. And since the media is having so much fun painting who I used to be, I thought it was time you heard it from me

Emma’s POVXander didn’t say a word as he closed the door behind us. The penthouse felt unusually quiet, like even the walls were holding their breath. I walked in slowly, my heels echoing on the marble floor, the weight of everything that had just happened pressing on my chest.Seeing my mother again had cracked something inside me—something I thought had long been sealed shut. And to make it worse, Robert and Diane had stirred the pot with the kind of cruelty that didn’t just aim to destroy my image, but me entirely. They weren’t just playing dirty—they were playing personal.I flopped onto the couch and buried my face in my hands.“I need a shower,” I muttered, more to myself than to Xander.But he heard. “I’ll run one for you.”His voice was gentle. Too gentle. Like he didn’t want to break me any further. And maybe he was right—maybe I was already teetering on the edge. I didn’t stop him as he disappeared into the bedroom.While he ran the water, I sat in silence. The city buzzed