บททั้งหมดของ Until I Wrote Him : บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

Chapter 62 Roman's POV The car door shuts with a soft thud behind her, and for a moment the sound seems to echo through the tinted interior like a sealed fate. India slides into the leather seat beside me, her fingers trembling as she tucks a curl of hair behind her ear, pretending not to notice how her breathing skips. She’s shaken, though she’s trying very hard not to show it. I can practically feel fear rolling off her skin in waves, thin, bitter, fragile. I settle into my side, let the leather cradle my spine, and gesture silently for the driver to start the engine. The hum is low, soothing, but the tension in the air doesn’t soften. India folds her arms defensively, hugging herself as if she could squeeze her heart into stillness. Funny. Moments ago, she was firing back like she’d grown teeth overnight. The fire in her voice had surprised me… and amused me. Now? Her eyes darted toward the street, body tight, shoulders pulled forward. Like prey listening for footstep

Chapter 64 India's POV The click of my office door closing behind me feels louder than it should. Maybe because my nerves are already stretched thin, like violin strings tuned too tight. I smooth my palms down the front of my blazer, trying to ground myself. Be normal. Act normal. Pretend your life isn’t quietly collapsing like a house of cards caught in a storm.Rosie is perched on the corner of my desk, swinging one leg gently as she scrolls through her tablet. Her long braids cascade like glossy ropes, catching the silver gleam of my office lights. There’s always something comforting about Rosie’s presence, loud energy, soft heart. A human-sized blanket of chaotic support.She looks up the second she senses me. “Nothing yet,” she says dramatically, holding up her tablet like it’s a holy relic. “Still waiting on the publishing house’s feedback.”I swallow, forcing my shoulders to drop. Ocean of Lies. My manuscript. My sh

Chapter 66 India's POV The rest of the day blurs into a strange, muted frenzy, the kind where reality follows me around like smoke clinging to clothes, refusing to leave. Everywhere Rosie and I turn, they turn too, Enzo, Koba, and Bates trailing a few respectable steps behind like shadows forged out of titanium and bad decisions.It’s impossible to pretend I don’t see them. They’re too large. Too silent. Too carved from something prehistoric. They move like men who were genetically engineered, not born. Their suits stretch across shoulders that could lift cars. They breathe slowly, controlled, and emotionless.At first, Rosie tried to whisper.Then she hissed.Then she downright glared.She even resorted to cheap flirting and batting of eyelashes.None of it worked.It got so annoying so I messaged Roman, demanding to know what the heck he just did by giving me men who didn't seem human one bit.My phone vibrated e

Chapter 68 India's POV The moment the jet doors open, warm Caribbean air brushes across my skin like a teasing whisper, heavy with salt and a sweetness I can’t name. The sun hits me harder than I expect, blinding at first, and for a second I just stand there, frozen at the top of the steps, blinking at paradise. The stretch of turquoise water glitters like crushed diamonds; bright buildings scatter along the horizon; palm trees sway in a lazy, confident rhythm like they own the world.I step down slowly, my heels clicking against the metal stairs, each step echoing in my bones. My mind is still stuck on the last twenty-four hours, like someone pressed a permanent replay button. A cliff. Dinner where Roman dropped revelations like grenades. A secret plan blooming in the background like a silent wildfire. And now this.A jet. To the Caribbean.For dinner.I pause as my foot hits the runway. Heat radiates through the blac

Chapter 70 India's POV I used to think nothing could surprise me anymore.Not after the cliffs.Not after the private jet.Not after the way Roman looks at me—as if he’s memorizing my pulse without ever touching me.Not after Ethan's motives for return.But this?This is new.Roman Alkali, the same man who can shut down grown men with a single cold stare, is standing here on the deck of a hyper-yacht, completely speechless… because a five-year-old asked him a simple question.I blink once. Twice.And I watch Roman’s throat move as he tries but fails to form a sentence.Guillermo waits patiently, small hands clutching dripping seashells, eyes glittering like he’s just found pirate treasure.“What’s she?” he asks again, head tilting.There’s a split second where Roman looks… lost.I never thought I’d see the day.I step in, because tension has teeth, and it’s about to bite.I'm not going to keep quiet and make this silence mo