บททั้งหมดของ Tempting the Alpha’s Father : บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

The estate felt like a battlefield the next morning. Sunlight streamed through the windows, painting the walls in deceptive serenity, but inside, the air was charged with tension. Every room seemed to hum with secrets, suspicion, and the remnants of last night’s confrontation.Emma moved cautiously through the halls, her heart still racing from the events in Adrian’s study. The confrontation with Lucas and Clara had left a scar of unease in her chest—a reminder that their forbidden affair was no longer hidden, at least not entirely.She reached the kitchen, hoping to find some semblance of normalcy, only to discover Lucas already there, pacing with restless energy. His eyes snapped to hers, sharp, accusing, and unreadable.“Emma,” he said, his voice low but tense, “I need answers. Now.”Emma’s throat tightened. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Adrian’s warning echoed in her mind: Do not speak. You belong to me.Before she could respond, Adrian appeared

The estate felt like it was holding its breath. Every corner, every shadow seemed to whisper danger, and Emma’s heart pounded with an intensity that left her breathless. The confrontation from the previous night—the unrelenting questions from Lucas, Clara’s calculating presence, and Adrian’s overwhelming claim over her—had left a residue of tension that seemed to seep into every wall.Emma moved through the dimly lit corridors, trying to steady herself, her pulse a rapid drumbeat against her ribs. She had barely slept, haunted by flashes of Adrian’s dark, possessive eyes, Lucas’s suspicion, and Clara’s predatory smirk. Every moment brought the same gnawing question: how long could they continue before the fragile web of secrecy shattered completely?As she reached Adrian’s chambers, the door opened before she could knock. Adrian was there, his presence magnetic, protective, and utterly consuming. His gaze met hers, a dark storm of desire and possessive intensity.“Emma,”

The morning light crept through the heavy curtains of Adrian’s chambers, painting the room in soft gold. Emma stirred, her body aching in ways that reminded her of the night before. The heat of Adrian’s touch still lingered on her skin, and for a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to bask in the illusion that the world outside had ceased to exist—that there was only her and him, locked in a secret that was as destructive as it was intoxicating.But reality had claws, and they were beginning to dig into her.Emma slowly sat up, clutching the sheets to her chest. Her mind raced. Every stolen kiss, every forbidden embrace, every whispered word between them was another step deeper into a labyrinth she wasn’t sure she could escape from. She glanced at Adrian, sprawled on the bed beside her, his breathing steady, his face softened by slumber. Even in sleep, he exuded dominance—raw, unshakable authority that made her heart tremble.She hated him for it. She wanted him for it.

The morning sun spilled across the estate with an almost mocking brilliance, painting everything in warm gold as if the night had not held such dangerous truths. Emma sat at the breakfast table with a porcelain cup in her hands, her fingers tight around it to hide the tremor in them.Across the table, Lucas chatted absently about business, unaware of how his words seemed to fade into static in her ears. Every few seconds, Emma glanced at Adrian, who sat at the head of the table, as composed as ever. His face betrayed nothing—no flicker of last night’s fire, no shadow of confession. He was the picture of authority, impenetrable.And yet Emma knew. She knew his gaze burned even when it didn’t meet hers. She knew his hand itched to reach for her even when it rested idly on his napkin.But someone else knew, too.Clara.Emma could feel it in the way Clara’s eyes lingered on her too long, in the way her smile curved just a little too sharp, as though it was carved fro

The silence that fell after Lucas’s departure was not the kind that brought peace. It was heavy, weighted, vibrating with the echoes of all the words unsaid and all the truths that teetered on the edge of discovery.Emma stood in the middle of the drawing room, her fingers clutching the edge of her shawl as though it could anchor her to something solid. Her heart was still hammering against her ribs, not from Lucas’s sudden appearance, but from the way Adrian’s hand had lingered against her lower back when he pulled her away from his son’s line of sight.Even now, she could feel the scorch of that touch.“You handled him well,” she whispered, her voice trembling, unsure whether she was thanking him or accusing him.Adrian’s eyes darkened, his broad frame moving slowly toward her with the inevitability of a tide swallowing the shore. “Handled him? Emma… I lied to my own son to protect what’s mine.” His tone was low, possessive, dangerous.Her lips parted, shock an