All Chapters of Fated love: Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

‎Three months later, in the bustling city of F, the evening sun dipped low, casting a soft amber glow across the streets. The hum of cars and distant chatter mingled with the occasional bark of stray dogs and the faint aroma of street food, creating the familiar rhythm of urban life. Claire, taking a leisurely stroll through the avenues, let the cool breeze brush against her face, feeling a rare moment of serenity after weeks of work and endless obligations. The golden light danced across the pavement, reflecting off windows and puddles from an earlier rain, making the city streets feel almost cinematic.‎‎She paused for a moment near a small park, her eyes tracing the children running and laughing as parents called after them, a faint smile playing across her lips. For a brief instant, she felt removed from the weight of her responsibilities, the tension that had been coiled inside her chest for weeks loosening slightly. The wind tousled her hair, carrying with it the scent of roast

‎The dimly lit interior of the warehouse felt colder than usual, as though the very air sensed the fear swirling within its walls. Claire sat rigidly on the wooden chair, her wrists tied tightly behind her back, the rough rope biting into her skin each time she shifted. Her breathing was uneven—part fear, part exhaustion, part the heavy weight of worry pressing on her chest because of her unborn child.‎‎For a moment, silence lingered, broken only by the faint hum of machinery somewhere deep within the warehouse and the distant sound of muffled footsteps approaching. Claire parted her lips, wanting to speak, to plead again, or maybe to ask why this was happening to her, but before she could utter a word, the metal door swung open violently.‎‎Just when Claire wanted to talk, one of the bandits came rushing in. His face was pale, and sweat gathered at his brow despite the cool temperature.‎‎“Sir, seems like they've arrived,” he reported, his voice shaking noticeably. It wasn’t just

‎It was a gentle Sunday morning, the kind that wrapped itself softly around the city like a warm blanket laid over a half-asleep child. The skies were pale blue, brushed with thin stretches of clouds that looked as though they had been painted lazily with a feather. Sunlight filtered through Claire’s curtains, spilling inside in diffuse rays that made her small apartment glow faintly with tender warmth.‎‎Her bedroom smelled faintly of lavender—something from her pillow spray—and the quiet song of birds outside drifted in, weaving itself into the silence of the morning. The rain from last night had left the air perfectly crisp, with that comforting damp scent rising from the earth. Even the city, usually restless and loud, seemed to be in no hurry to wake up.‎‎Claire stirred under her light blanket, her eyes fluttering before fully opening. For a moment, she simply lay there, letting the soft sunlight kiss her face. Then she reached instinctively for her phone on the bedside table.

After Claire finally settled down in her small apartment, dropping her handbag on the chair and slipping off her shoes, a strange heaviness lingered in her chest. The quiet of the room felt louder than usual, and the events of the day kept replaying in her mind like a stubborn echo. The image of Edward standing in the amusement park, so close yet so distant, refused to fade. Her heart still beat faster whenever she remembered his confused gaze, the unfamiliar calmness in his eyes, and how he had simply walked away without his usual possessiveness.She moved toward the window and stared outside for a few seconds, watching the streetlights glow softly against the darkening sky. A deep sigh escaped her lips. She needed to talk to someone, someone who understood the past she had tried so hard to bury. Without thinking too much, she reached for her phone and dialed Cleo’s number.The phone rang twice before Cleo answered.“Hey Cleo,” Claire said immediately as the call connected.“Hey Clai

Edward already knew what Anthonio was thinking. Even without hearing the words, he could see them written all over his loyal assistant’s face—the hesitation, the fear, the careful calculation of how much truth to reveal. Edward’s sharp instincts had not dulled, even if his memories had.‎“Don’t worry about my headache,” Edward said quietly, his voice firm despite the faint tremor beneath it. “I just want to know.”‎‎Anthonio had no choice. He drew in a long, heavy breath, as if preparing himself to reopen wounds that had barely healed.‎“You had a girlfriend before your accident,” he began slowly.‎The words hung in the air like smoke. Anthonio’s mind unwillingly drifted back to that terrible day—the screams, the flames, the deafening explosion. His expression darkened, grief flashing briefly across his face before he forced himself to continue standing upright.‎‎Edward blinked, surprised. “Girlfriend?” he muttered under his breath, staring at Anthonio as if the man had suddenly st