All Chapters of Fake Dating The Tycoon Lawyer : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Anders is impatiently tapping his foot on the tiled floor of the hospital hallway. He's seated on a waiting bench, his elbow rests on his knees, his fingers linked together and his head bowed in thoughts. His eyes are fixed on the floor, focused on an invisible nothing. He can't erase the image of Electra from his mind. The way he had found her. Twisted and unconscious by the sidewalk. He groaned in regret. Blaming himself for letting her words affect him. He should never have left her. He should have listened to his guts. “Anders!” The call is lively and cheerful. But Anders is not in the mood. He turns his head. There’s no vigour in him. “Mac.” Anders calls back. “It has been ages.” Mac comments lightly. Anders has not contacted Mac since after Laurel's passing. Mac soon notices the lack of zeal in Anders. His smile falters as he nears his friend. “Is everything alright? Why are you here?” Mac asks, taking the seat beside him. Anders glances at him, before turning his sobe

Nikas peeps inside Electra's ward. Sensing the door open, she stirs and turns towards him. Nikas smiles. “You're finally awake.” He says, stepping inside the room and moving close to her gurney. He perches on the edge and stares down at her, observing the bandage on her head. “How do you feel? How's your head?” Nikas asks. Electra groans as she tries to sit up. “I feel like sh!t and a mower is buzzing inside my head continuously.” Nikas chuckles. He stands to help her with the adjuster to give Electra a half sitting position before he sits beside her again. “You do look like sh!t.” He teases, but his concerns are expressive in his eyes. Electra glances at him. “Thank you, that's very comforting.” He laughs. “What day is it? How long have I been out?” Electra asks. Her question propped by Nikas' emphasis on her finally being awake. “Sunday. So just the whole of yesterday. Came in to see you but you were still knocked out.” Electra nods, wincing at the throb that fills her f

“Please tell me this is a joke.” Orion says as he sits out of the settee in shock. His eyes are wide and the force from his sit-up almost spills the drink in his hand. “What do you mean you're dropping the case?” Anders calmly lifts his glass to his lips and gulps the remainder of his drink, emptying the tumbler. He looks at the bottle sitting on the table, it's empty. “Exactly what you heard.” He responds, rising to grab another bottle from the cabinet in his kitchen. It's a Sunday and neither of them works today. Orion has come to Anders' house like he does every other Sunday and they're relaxed in his living room. Or was relaxed. Not until he heard what Anders said. Orion does not like what he's hearing. What he’s just been told rattles him, throwing the earlier serenity out the window. They were just having a good time talking about random things. Some talks lead to others and they start talking about work. Then Anders drops the bomb shell. Orion pins his surprised gaze on A

Anders. He's standing there. In front of her. Shirtless. Chest bare. All muscles. Abs everywhere. And wet. Did he just get out of the shower? Her eyes travel up him. No. His hair is not wet. So definitely sweat. She swallows. Instinctively, her gaze trails a bead of sweat that travels down the length of his chest until it's absorbed by the band of his boxer shorts. The black band. A peek of the white boxers. The rest of the white disappears, hidden underneath the grey sweatpants he's wearing. Did he go running? At mid-day? Her eyes continue to trail him, she doesn't miss the outline of his bulge in those pants. Beautifully defined. Anders is watching her drink him in. The irritation that crossed his face when he heard the doorbell disappears as soon as he sees who the guest is. He leans his right shoulder against the door frame and slides his left hand into the pocket of his pants. He knows what he is doing; giving her a show. Electra swallows again. Her saliva is doing

Electra momentarily forgets to breathe. Her hand drops from the door knob. Her face pales as blood drains out of it. Her saucer-like eyes are fixed on the woman. Her lips are parted. Her gaze trails the length of the woman. Tall. Blonde. A pretty face. Bright eyes and full, long lashes. A perfect pointed nose. Full lips, too full, Electra briefly wonders if the lips were natural or Botox injected. Fair skin that screams precise care and expensive skin care products. She's wearing a black clinging dress that contrasts perfectly with her skin and carves out her perfect curves. She looks like a runway model. Fawless. Perfect. The kind of wife a man like Anders would have. Electra jolts back to life as she hears her name from behind. “Electra, who's-” Anders stops. His eyes fall on the woman Electra is staring at. Electra's face falls as she sees the recognition in Anders' eyes. He knows her. That singular fact destroys the lie she had been brewing in her mind; maybe she just got t