All Chapters of FLOWER OF LOVE: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Flora Amor stirred awake, her brow furrowing at the heavy weight pressing down on her thighs—and the long arm snugly wrapped around her waist. With a startled grunt, she kicked it off and rolled to the other side, but the same arm slid right back around her, pulling her against a solid chest. “Hey—can’t breathe here,” she mumbled, voice husky with sleep. “Hmmm... Amor, let me sleep a little longer,” came the deep, lazy voice behind her, rough with drowsiness. “Ugh! You’re too heavy!” she complained, rolling back to face him. 'Face him?' Her mind snapped awake at the realization—there was someone beside her. The voice, the weight of a leg draped over hers, the arm clinging around her waist—all confirmed it. Her eyes flew open, blinking rapidly as she tried to recall what happened last night and whose bed she had ended up in. “Amor…” murmured the man beside her as he drew her even closer. Her heart lurched when she remembered—she was in Dixal’s house. And they had sl

“Where’s Devon?” Dixal’s voice was tight with concern as Harold’s anxious tone came through the call with his mother. “What are you doing as his father? Why are you letting the boy wander around alone? Don’t you realize how dangerous it is for a child like him to walk the streets these days?” he scolded, glancing at the boy beside him who sat quietly, listening to every word, while he drove and continued the heated call. “It’s all your fault!” Harold’s voice hardened on the other end. “If you hadn’t come back into our lives, this wouldn’t have happened!” Dixal’s brows knitted. His fault? How could it be his fault when all he did was try to help? “Daddy, why are you angry?” Devon’s soft voice drew his attention, seeing the boy’s worried eyes fixed on him. “I’m bringing him to you. Wait for us there,” Dixal said flatly before ending the call. He turned to the boy. “I’ll take you home, Devon. Your daddy’s worried sick about you.” He brushed his fingers across the child’s fore

Flora Amor returned to her old cubicle, relieved to find it still vacant. It looked almost untouched—her things were still neatly in place, though everything bore the signs of regular cleaning. Someone had been maintaining it, probably every day. She quickly turned on the computer and opened the folder Elaine had handed her. The first page listed everyone involved in the construction project, from the project manager down to the workers and material suppliers. On the next page were the materials used. Nothing seemed suspicious at first glance, the listed items were all of good quality. Unless, of course, some had been swapped out. She stood and glanced around the office. Everyone was busy—Elaine included. Taking her seat again, she flipped through the pages until she found the building’s location. They’d need to visit the site to confirm whether substandard materials had really been used, and to trace where the replacements had come from. Then she remembered—she didn’t even

Flora Amor didn’t know which to react to first—Dixal’s whispered “liar”, or his hands that had found their way to her chest. Before she could even breathe a word, her own hand was already clasped behind his neck as his lips wandered—tracing fire along her ear, down to her nape, her shoulder, then back again. “You’re such a liar, Amor,” he murmured teasingly against her skin. “You keep moaning wherever I kiss you, yet you claim you hate me.” His grip tightened ever so slightly, igniting a rush of heat through her body. Thank goodness he wasn’t facing her. If he saw her flushed cheeks, he’d never let her live it down. 'Why did I even touch his neck? Why did I… moan?' Her mind scolded itself, flustered beyond measure. 'He’ll think I’m desperate to be kissed!' “Dixal… wh-where’s the door button?” she stammered, pulling her hand away—only to find herself clutching his hands instead. He merely gave a low hum in response, lifting the hem of her blouse before grazing her skin with a t

“Ate, you’re taking too long in there! I’m going to be late for school!” Hanna complained from outside the bathroom. “You little brat!” Flora Amor shouted back, water splashing around her as she hurried to rinse off. “I already told you—before I even get up from bed, you should’ve been done taking your shower so you won’t keep whining like that!” She grabbed the towel hanging behind the door, wrapped it quickly around her damp body, and stormed out, ready to give her sister a light smack on the head—but Hanna was faster. The younger girl darted inside the bathroom and locked the door just before Flora Amor could raise her hand. “Hanna! If you’re still late next time, I’ll let you deal with it on your own, you pest!” she yelled, banging on the door in frustration. Her sister’s laughter echoed from inside. “What’s all the noise about this time, Flor?” their mother asked, stepping out from the small store at the front of their house, shaking her head. “And who’s even going to s