Lahat ng Kabanata ng FORBIDDEN AFFAIRS WITH MY FIANCÉ'S BILLIONAIRE UNCLE : Kabanata 101 - Kabanata 110

~~Alejandro~~ Her mouth wraps around me again, warm and wet, and a rough breath punches out of my chest. I keep my hands laced behind my head, muscles tight, because if I touch her now, I won’t stop. I want to watch her work for it… watch her melt for me. She looks up through her lashes, waiting for a reaction, and damn—she has no idea what that does to me. The sight of her kneeling between my legs, lips around my cock, makes a dark, primal heat coil low in my gut. But the truth? I’m seconds away from grabbing her hair and guiding her exactly how I want it. “Keep going,” I say, my voice low and steady but loaded with the warning underneath. “Don’t stop unless I tell you to.” Her lips tighten around me, her tongue flicking in a way that nearly shatters the restraint. My jaw clenches. I feel everything—too much, actually. Hell, I tried. The restraint I’d been clinging to snapped clean in half. My hand shot into her hair, gathering it into a firm ponytail. Guiding her, controllin

~~Elena~~ I sat on the couch, my mind replaying Alejandro’s words on a loop. Valentina had escaped. My chest tightened. What will happen now? “What’s wrong, Elena? Come have dinner,” Grandma called. I forced myself up and walked toward her. “Nick called not long ago,” she added. “You didn’t tell him I was discharged yesterday?” “I was so occupied, I forgot,” I said quietly. She nodded slowly. “Grandma… You didn’t tell him where you’re staying, did you?” She stayed silent. My heart dropped. That silence was my answer. “Grandma, please,” I whispered, “stop exposing your location to strangers.” “But Nick isn’t a stranger,” she insisted. Before I could reply, my phone rang—almost as if summoned. Nick. I swallowed hard and picked up. “I’m on your street. Where exactly is your house?” he asked. “Nick, it’s past eight. Can you just go home?” “Come on, your grandma is craving chicken wings. I have them with me now.” “Nick, it’s late. And again—Grandma is

~~Alejandro~~ I arrived home the moment I heard the old man wasn’t feeling well. When I entered his room, he was sitting upright on his bed, scrolling through his phone. I moved closer, dragged a chair over, and sat beside the bed. “Alejandro, what are you up to now? And why do you need a press conference?” he asked without looking up. “How are you feeling, Dad?” I asked instead, ignoring his question. He let out a tired sigh. “Hmm… I’m getting exhausted staying home every day.” Of course he was. His daughter—the one who usually kept him company—was no longer in the Rodríguez mansion. And Morales, his closest friend, was now in prison. His sentence could have been lighter, but the evidence proving he helped his daughter cover up a murder sealed his fate. Thirty years. For a man nearing seventy, it was practically a life sentence. No wonder my dad had been sinking into silence. I needed to enroll him into an elderly day-hangout center soon. He needed new friends, new

~~Alejandro~~ I watched the news, my fist tightening with every word she spat. “She was supposed to be Carlos’s wife,” Valentina cried dramatically, “but instead, she was sleeping with my own fiancée! And the worst part? The old Rodriguez knew and kept quiet! " she said. "But there was a video about a murder concerning you," the woman asked. “That video of Antonio was fake. He was killed by my father. I knew nothing,” she said. Then, immediately, a video from the bathroom scene in Burgos appeared on the screen. My jaw clenched. I had taken the picture down before morning… Yet she still managed to twist everything back in her favor. Without hesitation, I called the owner of the broadcasting station. “Delete that story. And fire the woman who let Valentina pull this stunt," I said and hung up. She must have seized the opportunity to be the first to expose my scandal—but unfortunately for her, this would mark the end of her career. Immediately I called the butler

~~Alejandro~~ “What’s going on, Alejandro? Do you want to kill me?” My father snapped as I entered. I chuckled, dropping onto the couch beside him. “Last time, I told you I can’t cope staying here with no one to talk to,” he continued, frustrated. “And now, the only thing keeping me busy has been taken away. Why was my phone seized? And why are there no remotes in this house? They’re asking me to play draughts. Do I look like someone who enjoys draughts?" “Come on, Dad,” I said lightly. “That’s what old people do these days.” “You…” He pointed at me, speechless for a moment. He exhaled sharply. “Old people like me should have great-grandchildren. At least grandchildren. But I have none.” “You have a grandson,” I reminded him. He blinked, curious. “Really?” “Yeah. Carlos.” His expression collapsed into disappointment. He struck his walking stick against the floor and turned his face. I sighed and stood. “If that’s all, I’ll be heading back—” “There’s more.” I paused and sa