Semua Bab Did I Steal My Fiancé’s Ex Identity: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Lisa's POV I sat at my desk staring at the half-finished canvas in front of me. The brush was dry in my hand. I had been sitting there for more than an hour, but nothing came. I opened my laptop. My head was not with the painting. My thoughts kept circling back to the file I had seen about my mother, the photo, and the questions it raised.Who was my father?Why was there no record of him anywhere?And who killed her?I looked up from my laptop, where I had been staring at a grainy digital photo of my mother from a newspaper for the past hour.The sound of footsteps broke my thoughts. Mara walked into the work area. She was as tall and elegant as always, her presence filling the room. She glanced at my canvas, laptop, and then back at me. Her expression was not angry, but it was serious.“Lisa,” she said, calm but firm. “Can I see you in my office?”My stomach dropped. I had missed a deadline yesterday for submitting new piece ideas for the upcoming winter showcase. I had completely

Lisa’s POVRiley came home with two large brown paper bags of Chinese takeout and a smile so wide I could already tell she was up to something.“Guess what,” she said, dropping the bags on the kitchen counter with a loud thud.I peeked inside. The smell of fried rice and chicken hit me at once. “You ordered takeout?”“Correction,” she said, wagging a finger, “I ordered enough takeout to feed a small village.” She opened the second bag and pulled out a bottle of cheap wine. “And we’re having a girls’ night.”I blinked at her. “A girls’ night?”Riley declared it with the seriousness of a general planning a siege. "We are having a girls' night. No arguments. You have been moping for weeks. It stops tonight."I looked up from my laptop, where I had been staring at the same search results for my mother for an hour. "I'm not moping. I'm researching.""That's a fancy word for moping while staring at a screen," she said, grabbing the computer and closing it. "Nope. Tonight, we eat terrible fo

Riley's POVI saw him on Tuesday.It was raining, and this guy was just standing on the opposite side of the road, hood up. He was not walking anywhere. He was just gazing at the gallery window. At Lisa, who was inside, completely absorbed in extending a new canvas.I thought it was odd, but people do odd things. Maybe he was meeting someone.It started small.I thought about it first. Folks came and went from the gallery all day long. We had a lot of regulars who simply browsed. But this guy was different.Every day, after Lisa settled at her corner with her brushes and paints, I saw him. Same black jacket. Same spot outside. He never came in. Never asked about prices. Never looked at the paintings in the front window. His eyes were always on Lisa.I tried to brush it off the first day. Maybe he was meeting someone.But he returned on Wednesday. Same time. Same place. Same hoodie, despite the sunshine. He just stood there, hands in pockets, observing. Lisa was stirring paint at the w

Diane’s POVIt was late, and Andre had locked himself in the study again, so I brought him food. He had been doing that a lot. He thought I didn't notice the way he watched me sometimes, a question in his eyes that he would not ask.At first, I thought it was just his usual work obsession, but then I saw it. Last night, he came home with a folder. He held it like it was something precious.That folder. He tried to hide it in the office. When I stepped inside his study with a tray, he did it again.I smiled as if I had not noticed, but I had. He shoved it into the drawer like a guilty man and locked it. He thought I was blind, but I had always been sharper than him.“Andre, you cannot live on whiskey alone,” I said gently, putting the soup down.“I am not hungry,” he muttered, not even looking at me.I sat on the couch and crossed my legs. “Come rest,” I told him. “Just for a minute.”He ignored me, drowning in his papers, but I was patient. I always had been.Hours later, when I kne

Andre’s POV Morning light came into the room, blinding my eyes, and it was not welcome. My head throbbed, not from the whiskey, but from the memory of what I had done.I should never have let Diane touch me.I sat on the edge of the couch-bed, my shirt was wrinkled, and my mouth dry. I felt a heavy weight in my chest. The room smelled of her perfume and the whiskey we had drunk. The space beside me was warm. Diane was still asleep.Last night was a blur. A mistake. A moment of weakness I could not afford. I had let her in, and all I could think about was Lisa.All of it, burned into me. Last night had not erased any of that. It had only made me feel worse.Diane shifted behind me, stretching like a cat. “Good morning,” she purred like a cat.I didn’t answer.She sat up, leaning against the back, watching me. “You regret it,” she said simply.I dragged a hand down my face. “I shouldn’t have…”“You did,” she cut in, smugly. “Your body remembered me.”I turned to look at her. “Don’t m