All Chapters of His Ex Mistress, His Enemy: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Ash had finally crashed. After all the bargaining, compromises, and one very real threat to confiscate every single Lego he owned, the kid surrendered to sleep.I padded into the living room. Dim light. The TV screen frozen on the last frame of some cooking show neither of us had been watching. Outside, the backyard was slick from the afternoon rain, the grass catching the moonlight like frosted glass.Erick lounged on the couch facing the sliding doors. One hand curled around a wine glass, legs folded lazily, his T-shirt rumpled in a way that looked intentional.I dropped onto the cushion beside him and rested my head on his shoulder without a word.“You know,” he murmured at last, “I almost kicked out an influencer last week.”My brow arched. “The passive-aggressive vegan or the one with the dog in Louis Vuitton shoes?”“The second. Walked in without a reservation, demanded a balcony seat, then asked for ‘a vibe that’s private but still Instagramable.’” He flicked his glass at the ai

Zane’s passenger seat had never been designed to hold one sarcastic woman, a three-and-a-half-year-old chatterbox, and the chaos of early morning small talk. But there we were.Ash sat sideways on my lap, facing the window, his small hands pressed against the fogged glass. His mouth hadn’t stopped moving since we left the house like a broken popcorn machine, popping nonstop.“Mami, last night I dreamed our cat could talk. Spaghetti said he wanted to work in an office like you, but he didn’t have a tie, so I gave him the little blanket… the one on the couch… that smells like fried chicken…”“Uh-huh.” I tilted his chin with two fingers and tried to tame his hair. Pointless. The kid’s hair had a will of its own. Jet black, thick, and standing like it had escaped from a pomade commercial.I jabbed Zane’s arm with my elbow. “You see this? This is your genetic fault. You deal with it.”He chuckled without looking away from the road. “I’d say that hair’s part of the Romano charm. Not every k

Ash leaned back in his chair, belly round and tight from too much bread and honey jam. His eyes drifted toward the ceiling as if the universe had just whispered a revelation straight into his little brain.Then he shot upright, electrified by an idea. “Papi,” he breathed, dramatically, “I wanna watch a movie. In a theater. Today. Now.”I turned my head slowly. “You think this is summer break, kid? You just finished your preschool tour and brunch.”Ash raised one eyebrow (like mine, one of the only two things he inherited from me besides attitude). He looked at me with the confidence of someone who believed he held the remote to life.Zane placed his napkin on the plate. “What movie?”Ash thought hard, then whispered, “The one with dragons and the boy with rainbow hair.”Zane pulled out his phone. “Alright, there’s a new animated one out. We’ll book a small studio at Landmark. Private screening, so you can bring snacks and… a pillow if you want. Sound good?”I turned sharply. “You’re n

Amelia’s father finally sat down. That burgundy silk tie looked like the neck of a snake. Smooth. Polished. Tight enough to strangle anyone foolish enough to lean too close.“I’ll get straight to the point,” he said.“Go ahead,” I replied, crossing one leg over the other, hiding a smile. My nails drummed against the lawsuit draft I hadn’t finished that morning.“We don’t agree with the trust fund,” he said. “It’s insulting.”I arched a brow. “Insulting, Mr. Mercier?”“Yes. It’s Zane’s way of saying, ‘Take this and stay out of my life.’”I stared at his wife. She sat quietly beside him. Her face serene, but her hands betrayed her. Twisting her ring, tugging at her purse strap, squeezing her own fingers. The little tics of someone who’s swallowed far too many bitter pills in silence.“Romano Imperium shares,” Mr. Mercier continued. “That’s what should be demanded. Not that ridiculous trust fund.”I exhaled. Leaning back, I tapped the armrest lightly with my fingers. I’d hoped to get t

The movie was halfway through when I started wondering why I’d let this happen.One side of my body was pinned by a five-year-old with messy hair and cheese-pasta breath. The other side was trapped in the crook of a man who smelled like expensive cinnamon and high-end sin.Ash clung to me like a life raft. Her head rested on my chest, her legs, God knows when, had found Zane’s chin and decided to stay there like it was part of our family bedtime routine.I ran my fingers through her hair, eyes fixed on the TV. Animated dragons. Bouncy music. Everything screaming fun, but my mind drifted far from it.Zane lay at the end of the couch, yet somehow his presence filled every inch between us. Even from a hand’s length away, the heat from his body had nothing to do with the room temperature.“Can cats ride airplanes?” Ash asked suddenly, her eyes still on the screen, her brain clearly teleporting to another galaxy.I sighed. “Ash, we’re watching a movie. Can you be quiet for five minutes?”“