Todos los capítulos de After the last "I do": Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

Rachel was still on top of me, her breath shaky, her hair falling into my face. For a second, I almost forgot to breathe. That image of me holding her and whispering don’t leave me burned through me. Shame ripped through my chest.“Get up,” I said holding my breath . My voice was sharp, commanding, colder than ice.She jerked up immediately, as if my tone had burned her skin. Her head bowed low. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling.I pushed myself up and stood, brushing invisible dust from my shirt just to stop my hands from shaking. I walked up to her, my steps heavy. Then I slammed my palm against the wall, pinning her there. Her eyes widened, wet with fear and confusion.“Why do you keep meddling in my business?” I hissed, my face inches from hers. “Are you a pest?”She shook her head fast, too fast.“You have one job,” I said, my voice slicing into her like glass. “Just one. To cook. To stay hidden. That’s all.”“Clean this dining room,” I added, my tone still hard tho

Panting, I rushed into Damian’s house, my chest rising and falling like I had been chased. The first thing I saw was him standing in the hallway, holding the same file I had secretly placed beside his meal earlier.His eyes found me instantly. That stare. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t even angry. It was just… deep. A stare so steady, so prolonged, that my tummy twisted, and my knees felt weak. I couldn’t tell if he was seeing me… or through me.He let his gaze travel from my face heavy with makeup all the way to my dress that hugs my curves and flows down, down to my toes, slowly, like he was studying me. My throat dried. My heart raced, standing there looking amazing for the first time under Damian’s gaze that was sharp enough to cut through bone.“Where did you get this?” he said raising the file. His voice was low, commanding.“From the bar,” I whispered, my palms suddenly clammy.“Has anyone else laid hands on it?”I shook my head quickly confused why he did ask. “No.”

Chris’s driver pulled up to the tall, quiet building, and I followed Chris inside. The moment we stepped into his apartment, I was wowed.It was beautiful. Not the kind of beauty that screamed money in your face like Damian’s mansion. No chandeliers dropping from the ceiling, no gold statues or diamond art pieces.It was simple but classy, the kind of space that felt alive and peaceful. The floors were smooth dark wood, the walls painted in soft tones that made the whole place glow.But what stole my breath was the view. A glass wall stretched across the living room, you can see the endless ocean from it. I forgot how to breathe.“Your apartment looks beautiful,” I whispered, almost ashamed at how amazed I sounded.Chris gave a small smile, walking past me. “This is not my home. It’s my hideout. A spare place I come to reflect.”Hideout. The word felt deep in my chest. Like this was where he came to drop his mask.I kept staring, my eyes sweeping the neat arrangement of books on the s

The day before the burial, I barely slept. The dream of Mom’s death still haunted me. Although I knew she was gone, it felt like my mind was trying to tell me something, something hidden in the way she smiled at me before she collapsed in that dream.Aria and I spent the entire morning at the burial venue. The guest hall had been transformed into something that looked like a wedding. white drapes flowed down from the ceiling, crystal lights shimmered against the glass vases, and fresh lilies filled the air with a clean sweetness that reminded me too much of Mom’s perfume.Her portraits were already arranged: one of her smiling in a garden, one in her youth wearing a red dress, and one that captured her soft, motherly smile in her later years.I stared at those pictures too long, my throat tightening.Aria and I hardly spoke. The silence between us was heavy. Not the usual bitter silence, but the silence of two daughters mourning the same woman, their number one person.At times, our e

I stood face to face with Chris Valemont, the invisible wall of animosity between us was enough to keep anyone from stepping closer. Rachel was in the middle, her eyes darting from me to him, confusion flickering in her expression.“You two know each other?” she asked, her voice steady but laced with suspicion. She didn’t direct the question at either of us. It hung in the air, daring one of us to answer.“You shouldn’t be here,” Chris said again, his tone flat, his jaw tight.I turned to him slowly, a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips. “This is not the right place or time to pick a fight with me, Mr. Valemont.”I stepped past him, unbothered, my shoes crunching against the gravel as I made my way to an empty seat.Rachel instinctively reached out, placing a hand on Chris’s arm as though she feared he might explode. The sight of her holding him back only made my smirk widen.I sat down with calculated ease, crossing one leg over the other, exuding the kind of calm that could driv