All Chapters of Accidental Night with the Boss: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

The squeak of bicycle wheels echoed faintly from the street outside, mixing with the shrieks of two children tumbling through Elena Rossi’s modest living room.“Careful!” Elena’s voice rose for the third time, though she knew it was useless. The boys—six and nine—were a whirlwind of toy cars, sticky fingers, half-shouted arguments and snotty cries.Their mother lounged on the sofa, scrolling her phone, not lifting a finger. “They’re just playing,” she said breezily. "It's what kids their age do. Have your own and you'll understand."Elena forced a smile, though her hands tightened on the tea tray she was carrying. Of course. Her sister-in-law always had reasons to drop her children here to 'keep her company'. And it was always a problem if she reprimanded them even a little bit.And as if that weren’t enough, Elena’s mother-in-law sat primly in the armchair by the window, eyes sharp, judging every speck of dust, every crease in Elena’s blouse.“This house feels smaller every time I v

The chaos from upstairs simmered down after a few minutes, but the air inside Elena’s living room didn’t lighten. It only grew heavier.Isabella and the two in-laws were locked in a staredown.Elena tried to mend the atmosphere, voice thin, fingers twisting in her apron. “Vanessa… even if you leave them here, where would they sleep? There’s barely space. Isabella takes the couch already, and Daniel—”“Daniel has a room, doesn’t he?” Vanessa cut her off sharply, arms folding. Her eyes glittered with the satisfaction of cornering prey. “Perfect. My boys will stay there. After all, this is my brother’s house. His nephews should have priority.”Elena’s lips parted, shocked and Isabella just kept sneering. “But… Daniel needs his room. He studies late, and—”“They’re children, Elena. Children need more care than some college boy who should be living on campus cramming books.” Vanessa’s tone dripped with self-righteousness. “You can’t seriously mean to put my sons on the floor while Daniel

The mirrored elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime, sealing the two of them into a narrow box of steel and glass.Isabella Rossi tightened her grip on her bag strap, heart ricocheting like it had no respect for her ribs. She told herself she’d survived worse—her boyfriend cheatingon her with her best friend, her brother-in-law’s venom, Margot’s passive-aggressive sighs—but somehow silence in a closed space with Vincent Sinclair was worse.Julian wasn’t there this morning to prattle nervously, and the absence was suffocating. It left nothing but the sound of polished shoes against the elevator floor, the rise and fall of Vincent’s even breathing, and the subtle heat of his presence pressing against her composure.And, worst of all, the reflection.Her gaze darted up against her better judgment, meeting ice. Arctic-blue eyes stared back at her through the mirrored surface, so cool they might’ve frozen the air. He held her gaze a beat too long, and the elevator felt smaller. Tighte

Vincent tapped a folder with one long finger, the sound steady and unhurried. His gaze slid, almost lazily, toward Zachary. Not knowing who he was.“Chloe. Why are you here?”The question landed like a stone in still water.Chloe blinked, as if she’d been snapped out of a trance. Her eyes had been glued to Isabella since the moment she walked in—eyes sharp and glittering, a predator’s patience wrapped in high-society polish. At her brother’s words, she tossed her hair with practiced ease and squeezed Zachary’s hand tighter, like she was showing off a trophy.“Well,” she began, voice lilting sweetly, “I just got back from London with my boyfriend. And I came to share something important. This is Zachary Grant and I’m preg—”“Chloe.”Zachary’s voice cracked mid-word, brittle as glass under serious strain.His hand slipped from Chloe’s with a jerk. He hadn’t looked at Chloe once since entering the room. Not once. His gaze had been shackled to Isabella—the set of her shoulders, the curv

Chloe’s lips parted, faltered, then pressed back together. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, feigning indifference. “I can’t even remember how I got home myself. What, you wanted me to babysit you too?” Her eyes gleamed, sharp. “If you slut around, Isabella, that’s your problem. But don’t think you can try it with Vincent Sinclair. He’s not one of your nobodies.”The audacity.Isabella let out an incorrigible laugh, sharp and amused, though her blood was boiling. She could always see the tell tale signs when Chloe was lying but what could she do? Besides... “You don’t even know who I slept with that night, do you?”The words hung heavy. Chloe’s composure cracked for half a second, confusion darting in her eyes before she snapped her mask back on. She didn’t ask. She didn’t want to know.Because in her version of events, it was just a rich nobody. A meaningless, easy way to ruin Isabella.So she deflected, voice rising: “You always do this—play the victim, act like you’re the on