Início / Romance / Warm My Bed, Little Pumpkin! / Capítulo 191 - Capítulo 200

Todos os capítulos de Warm My Bed, Little Pumpkin!: Capítulo 191 - Capítulo 200

309 Capítulos

191

THE penthouse was small but cozy and affluent, tucked away in a quiet neighborhood in San Diego. The scent of aged wood mixed with the faint aroma of burning wax from a different candles flickering from different positions in the living room. Carlson sat on a cushioned chair, staring at the glass of wine in his hand, swirling it absentmindedly. Across from him, Stanley Jacobi, his father, leaned against the doorframe, his own wine glass in hand. The man had aged, his once sharp features softened by time, but his eyes, those dark, unreadable eyes, still held a certain intensity. "So, you finally decided to see your old man," Stanley remarked, taking a slow sip from his glass. Carlson scoffed. "Don't make a big deal out of it. I was disposed, you asked me to come." Stanley chuckled, shaking his head. "You are still the same. Always acting like you don't care." Silence fell between them. The only sound was the distant hum of crickets outside, filling the evening air with their rhy

192

CARLSON remained silent for what felt like an eternity. The weight of the truth pressed down on him, making it difficult to breathe. He sat there, staring at the glass in his hand, but his mind was miles away, years away. Everything he had believed about his mother, about his past, had just been shattered. She hadn't been a victim of unfortunate circumstances, as he had always thought. She was the one who orchestrated it all. His grip tightened around the glass until his knuckles turned white. Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "She never told me." Stanley leaned back in his chair, watching him with an unreadable expression. "Of course, she didn't. Why would she? It is easier to lie, easier to shape the truth to fit whatever narrative she wanted you to believe." Carlson shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "And Dino? He knew? He knew she was married when they met?" Stanley let out a dry laugh. "Oh, he knew. But men like him? They don't care about

193

THE mall was buzzing with life as people walked around, exploring the high-end stores and boutiques. Among them, Oswald Escobar and Queen Wilberforce stood out like royalty. Dressed casually yet exuding wealth and elegance, they moved from one store to another, Queen leading the way with a satisfied smile. Oswald never liked walking around malls, he was the type to send his assistant or simply have things delivered. But trust Queen to get him to do things he normally wouldn't. She had insisted that they shop together, and for some reason, he hadn't refused. His guards were positioned strategically, their eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of trouble. But the real frenzy was from onlookers, fans of both Oswald and Queen who couldn't believe their eyes. The ruthless billionaire and the heiress, shopping together? Phones were out, cameras flashed, and hushed whispers filled the air. "Oh my God, it is really them!" "I can't believe Oswald is actually out in public, shopping!" "Qu

194

ORLANDA sat cross-legged on her small bed, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm hue over the room. In her hands was the delicate bracelet Oswald had gifted her, a stunning piece of silver with a simple yet elegant charm attached. She turned it over in her fingers, her brows knitting together in thought. "Oswald..." That man was a mystery she couldn't solve. Cold and a brute beast one moment, considerate the next. Detached, yet now giving her gifts? She let out a slow breath, staring at the piece of jewelry. Why did he get this for me? He wasn't the type to do random acts of kindness, nor any kindness at all. In fact, he barely acknowledged her existence most of the time. Yet today, he had personally picked this out, and sent it to her through Nathan. Orlanda scoffed, shaking her head. "Unpredictable human," she muttered. She couldn't deny that deep down, she felt a strange warmth. Not because she wanted anything from him, no, Oswald was impossible to understand. But

195

CARLSON stepped into his father's private study, a dimly lit room with dark wooden shelves lining the walls, stacked with old books and bottles of vintage whiskey. A large mahogany desk sat in the center, and behind it, Stanley Jacobi leaned back in his leather chair, sipping a glass of deep red wine. "You sent for me, Dad," Carlson said, stopping just a few steps inside. Stanley lifted his gaze, his expression unreadable. "Sit." Carlson hesitated for a moment before walking over and lowering himself into the chair across from his father. He didn't know what to expect from this meeting. Stanley had never been the sentimental type, if he called for him, it was for something important. Stanley swirled his glass, watching the liquid move, before speaking. "Tell me, son, have you ever once thought about that girl?" Carlson frowned slightly. "What girl?" His father raised a brow. "The one you planned to use against Oswald. The girl who was supposed to help you bring him down." C

196

QUEEN sat in her San Francisco office, elegantly dressed in a white silk blouse and black pencil skirt, her heels crossed as she sipped from a glass of wine. The day had been hectic, so hectic. She had flown in that morning, stormed into the office, and immediately tackled the shipment crisis that had been threatening her company's reputation. And now, with at least a huge part of the problem resolved, she allowed herself a moment to relax. Across from her sat Bianca, who was watching her intently, knowing that when Queen got this quiet, she was deep in thought. "What is on your mind?" Bianca finally asked, shifting in her seat. Queen exhaled, swirling her wine before taking another sip. Then, she leaned forward, her expression slightly troubled. "It is Oswald," she admitted. Bianca arched a brow. "What about him? He is already coming around as I see, so what's up?" Queen sighed, tapping her perfectly manicured nails against the glass. "Yes he is. I should be the happiest wom

197

LATE in the afternoon, Queen sat in the luxurious comfort of her penthouse in San Francisco, scrolling through her tablet while sipping on a glass of wine. The day had been long, dealing with business matters and corporate nonsense, but at least, what kept her going was that she had tackled a huge part of the problem that had brought her here. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She looked up lazily. Who could that be? "Come in," she called, adjusting her position on the couch. One of her domestic staff entered, holding a sealed envelope in his hand. "This just arrived for you, ma'am," he announced, extending the envelope to her. Queen frowned slightly, setting down her glass as she took it. The envelope was plain, no return address, nothing to indicate who had sent it. Curiosity flickered in her eyes as she tore it open. The staff who brought the envelope had already left. Inside was a small folded note. She unfolded it and read: "Queen, I request your audience regar

198

QUEEN entered her penthouse that evening and shut the door behind her. The weight of the conversation with Carlson still clung to her like a thick fog, clouding her thoughts. She had planned to go out for dinner after the meeting, maybe even order something in, but now, there was no appetite. How could she eat when her mind was racing with a thousand different thoughts? She tossed her Fendi bag onto the bed carelessly, her hands immediately going to her temples as she exhaled sharply. Then, as if unable to stand still, she began pacing across the room. Oswald... a girl in his bedroom... his maid once upon a time. The things he took there. The things she had noticed but had ignored. So it was true? For a moment she began trying to recollect all the days she had stepped in there, and the weird things that had happened before her. In her bid to remember, her memories moved to one afternoon she had gone to see Oswald, unannounced as always, and she had bumped into an elderly woman at

199

FIVE days had passed since Queen returned to Philadelphia. The issue at the San Francisco branch had been resolved, and now she was back where she belonged, the Wilberforce estate. But something had changed. She had changed. Now, standing in the middle of her bedroom, she paced restlessly, her flip-flop plastering against the marble floor as she thought about the mission ahead. She wasn’t one to be easily rattled, but Carlson’s words had dug deep into her mind. She needed to confirm it for herself. Oswald was hiding someone. A lady. That was what Carlson claimed. And it made sense, too much sense. The secretive nature of his bedroom, the meals being taken upstairs despite him eating downstairs, the lingerie he had bought but never given to her, and most of all, the fact that he never touched her despite all the nights they had spent together. Queen gritted her teeth and let out a slow breath. She had to know the truth. But how? Breaking into Oswald’s room wasn’t something sh

200

NATHAN took a step forward, his brows furrowed slightly as he observed Queen standing in the dining area. “Miss Wilberforce,” he greeted this time, his voice calm but questioning. Queen turned to face him, offering a small smile, masking the nervous energy buzzing inside her. “Nathan,” she acknowledged. Nathan’s sharp eyes studied her for a second longer than usual. It wasn’t odd for Queen to visit the mansion, she had been given the freedom to walk in anytime. But the way she was standing there, as if she had been caught in the middle of something, made him suspicious. Still, he brushed it aside. “I wasn’t expecting you today,” Nathan commented as he shrugged off his jacket. Queen crossed her arms. “Neither was I expecting to see you back so soon,” she countered. “Why are you home early?” “Just a minor schedule change,” Nathan replied casually. Queen nodded, her mind racing. She needed to ask, but she had to be careful, Nathan was no fool. Just as he turned toward

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