Todos os capítulos de FELL IN LOVE WITH MY HUSBAND'S BODYGUARD: Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

The music had softened, guests now seated and sipping wine while dessert was being served. Laughter rose and fell in elegant waves.But Richard’s father, Mr. Moree, watched his son closely from across the room.When Richard returned, his posture was stiff, his mouth grim, eyes stormy and unfocused. He moved like a man on autopilot, not even greeting the familiar faces brushing past him.“Son,” his father called, moving to intercept him. “What’s wrong?”Richard looked at him—truly looked—but said nothing. His lips parted, then closed again.“Richard?”Before he could respond, the doors opened again.Lauren stepped in.She’d dabbed at the wine stain, but it was still faintly visible. Her lipstick had faded. Her expression was composed, calm, poised. But her eyes… her eyes betrayed her.Her mother, Mrs. Sanchez, seated at the family table beside two distant cousins, noticed her daughter immediately. She sa

The resort was everything the brochure promised—lush green palms swaying in a soft ocean breeze, secluded villas tucked between flowering gardens, and silence that cost more than most people made in a year.But to Lauren, it all felt like a well-decorated trap.She stepped out of the car and barely acknowledged the resort manager’s greeting. The staff were warm, smiling, welcoming. Richard even laughed at one of their comments as they were led to their private suite overlooking the ocean. But Lauren remained distant, her sunglasses hiding more than just tired eyes.Once inside, Richard tried again.“Do you want to walk down to the spa later?” he asked gently as he loosened his tie. “We could do the couples’ massage. Or maybe the hot spring.”“I’m tired,” she said, kicking off her heels and walking straight to the adjoining bedroom. “I’ll let you know.”Richard lingered at the door. “Lauren…”She paused only briefly. “Don

The clock ticked past 11:37 PM. Richard stepped into the hotel suite, loosening his tie with a tired sigh. The room was quiet, dimly lit by a single bedside lamp. He expected to find Lauren already curled under the sheets or maybe flipping through channels like she usually did on long nights. But the bed was untouched. And she was nowhere in sight. He checked the bathroom. Empty. “Lauren?” he called softly, already reaching for his phone. A knot twisted in his chest. He tapped her name and held the phone to his ear, listening to it ring once… twice… She finally picked up on the fourth. “Hello?” Her voice was slightly breathless, barely above a whisper. “Hey… where are you?” Richard asked, trying to sound casual. “I just got back to the room.” There was a pause. Then: “I—I took a walk. Out in the garden. I needed a little air. I’ll be back soon.” Richard looked toward the window. The garden outside was dimly lit, shadows long and stretching across the stone path

The lights of the suite were dimmed to a soft glow, casting warm shadows on the walls. The air was still, almost too quiet—like the room was holding its breath, mirroring her own. Lauren sat at the edge of the bed, unmoving. Her clutch lay forgotten on the dresser, her earrings beside it. One heel had fallen sideways on the floor, and the other was still dangling from her foot. She hadn’t changed. Hadn’t spoken. Hadn’t even blinked much since they returned from the rooftop bar. Richard had gone into the bathroom not long after they arrived. She could hear the shower still running, the hum of water masking the silence in the room, but not the silence inside her. His words echoed in her head like an old recording that refused to stop playing. > “I want to fix this.” > “I’m sorry I hurt you.” > “I’ll take things slow if that’s what you need.” But it was too late. Too

The hotel room was steeped in silence, dimly lit by the golden glow of a single bedside lamp. Louis stood by the tall window, arms crossed, his gaze drifting over the city skyline that never slept. Below, traffic murmured like a distant ocean, but up here, in this space—he was suspended between two lives.Lauren’s message still sat on his screen.“Can we talk later?”He hadn’t answered yet. Couldn’t. Not until he faced the other side of himself—the one he had run from.He walked to the drawer of the sleek nightstand and opened it carefully. Beneath folded black shirts, he retrieved a small, intricately carved wooden box. Inside, nestled in dark velvet, was a heavy gold ring engraved with the Montaldi family crest: a rearing lion wrapped in a laurel vine. A symbol of nobility. Legacy. Power.He stared at it, jaw clenched.His other phone—one Lauren didn’t know about—buzzed on the nightstand. It hadn’t rung in weeks.The screen