All Chapters of Did I Steal My Fiancé’s Ex Identity: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

LISA’S POVBy the time it was noon, I had asked Stanley the same question three times.“Has he come out yet?”The first time was in the morning, after breakfast. Andre usually left by eight. I waited in the hallway like I always did, pretending I was just walking by. I liked to see him before he left for work. It was something I looked forward to.But that morning, he never came out.Stanley gave me a small nod that meant nothing and continued with his duties.I sat by the window, watching the driveway. Andre's car never left."Stanley," I called as he passed the sitting room for the third time. "Is Andre sick?" The butler didn't stop walking. "Mr. DeLuca is fine." "But he didn't go to work." Stanley kept walking, "He's working from home today." "But he hasn't eaten all day. Shouldn't someone check…" He walked away ignoring me.Now, at almost seven in the evening, I began pacing in the hallway to his room. Stanley gave me an odd look like I was pissing him off… I didn't ca

ANDRE’S POVFLASHBACK (MONTH 2)When I woke up the sunlight on my face was streaming from my window. My head felt clearer than it had in days. The sheets smelled like medicine and something sweet. Vanilla maybe.I shut off my alarm and stared at the window curtains that were half open. For a second, I didn’t know what day it was. The bed felt unusually warm.Then I remembered.I turned my head.Lisa was still there, sleeping quietly beside me.Her back was to me. She was lying on her side, facing me, one hand under her cheek, the other was close to her chest. Her hair was sprayed on the pillow, a few strands fell on her face and neck.The blanket had slipped down to her waist, revealing just her upper body. I stared at her for a long time.I remembered waking up and seeing her hand with a wet towel. I remembered telling her not to go. And then asking her to lie beside me.Fuck no!Why had I asked her to stay?What the hell was I thinking?I hadn't been thinking straight. I had

Andre's POVFlashback: Month 2The gala was everything I hated. Too many people. Too much fake laughter. And my father at the center of it all, holding the court like some aging king. Waiters moved between groups of men in suits and women dressed to show off. I stood near the back. It was another one of my father's galas. Business mixed with charity, mixed with performance."Andre, come," my father called from across the room. His voice went across the room without effort. I joined him, fixing my collar and pasting on the smile I wore when I needed to survive an evening like this. Standing beside him was Mr. Thomas Greer, chairman of a tech conglomerate and one of my father's oldest friends."Mr Greer," I said, shaking his hand. "Always a pleasure."“Still not running your father's empire, I see," he said with a small laugh. He then clapped me on the shoulder And turned to my father. "When will this young man take over your company, Richard?" My father didn't even look at me. "W

Andre’s POV(Flashback: Four Months Earlier)I needed the drink. Even though it was not enough to distract me, it could make me not think for a bit.The bar wasn’t full, but the music was loud. Like really loud.I hardly came to these places, but after the day I had had, I didn't want to just go home. After work, I told Henry I wasn’t going straight home. Told Stanley to keep things quiet. Then drove, until I ended up here.The whiskey burned my throat as it went down. I signaled the bartender for another before the first glass even settled in my stomach. The office had been hell today. Three failed deals, two angry investors. And I still had to deal with the mess with my parents. I took a sip of my whiskey.I had told my parents I was bringing someone home for dinner. A woman. My girlfriend.That word still felt strange.Girlfriend.Lisa.Bringing her to meet them was a mistake waiting to happen. What was I thinking? Diane would have known exactly how to handle my father's bul

Lisa’s POV(Present Day) I walked into the living room. I couldn't find the book Dr Cammile had recommended last week, ‘The Memory Box’. I couldn't find my sketchbook either. I didn't realise I had gotten so forgetful and careless that I didn't know where I kept my own things, even though I was very sure I had left them in the garden bench when I went to ease myself. I passed the living room and stopped. Diane.She sat on the couch now, sipping tea and flipping through a magazine.I ignored her and went to the kitchen. I noticed a paper… scratch that, papers sticking out of the trash, not properly disposed off. I began to feel dread. I opened the trash box.My sketchbook…It was torn. No one had been there, no one except… Diane.Her robe was silky and white. Her legs crossed, like she belonged here more than I did.I walked over, my chest tight. “Did you touch my things?”She didn’t even look up. “Oh? Was that yours? I thought it was old junk someone left lying around.”I clench