Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 121 - Chapitre 130

“Sorry?” I was shouting now. “You built our entire relationship on a lie! You let me sign a birth certificate. Let me put my name on school documents. Let me claim her as my child for tax purposes. That’s fraud, Vivian. That’s paternity fraud.” “I know! I know it's a fraud. I know it’s unforgivable.” She was crying so hard I could barely understand her. “But I was scared. And then I fell in love with you. I really fell in love. And I couldn’t tell you the truth because I thought you’d leave. You’d take Ethan and Sophia and leave me and Emma with nothing.” “So you just kept lying.” “Yes.” The admission was quiet, broken. “I kept lying. And I told myself it was okay because you loved Emma. Because she loved you. Because we were a family even if it was built on a lie.” I sat down, put my head in my hands. “Does anyone else know?” “No. Just me. And now you and Emma.” She paused. “Adrian, please don’t tell her. Please don’t take away her father. She’s already lost so much—” “She

{AUTHOR NOTE: I sincerely apologize for the duplicate chapter. It was not intentional, nor was it meant to waste your coins. Due to network issues, a chapter was uploaded twice. I had originally planned to upload two chapters today, and this clarification chapter is to address the error. Please be assured it will not happen again. Thank you for reading this far, and happy holidays.}**VIVIAN’S POV**I sat in my cramped Brooklyn apartment, staring at my laptop screen.I didn’t tell anyone where I’m at. Let them think I’d fled to the other coast when really I was just across the bridge, hiding in a neighborhood where nobody from my old life would ever think to look.The apartment was small. One bedroom. Peeling paint. Neighbors who fought loudly at two a.m. Nothing like the mansion I’d lived in for nine years.This was what I’d been reduced to.On my screen, another article about Serena. Another interview. Another feature about her remarkable comeback, her successful company, her reunit

**SERENA’S POV** Lucas had been acting strange for weeks. Quiet in meetings. Distracted during project reviews. Always looking at me like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite get the words out. Tonight, he’d asked me to dinner. Just the two of us. Said he needed to talk. I arrived at the restaurant early, a quiet Italian place in the West Village. Intimate. The kind of place you took someone when the conversation mattered. Lucas was already there, standing when I approached, pulling out my chair like the gentleman he’d always been. “Thank you for coming,” he said, sitting across from me. “You made it sound important. I was worried something was wrong with the business.” “No. The business is fine. Great, actually. Our collaboration has been incredibly successful.” He paused, picked up his wine glass, set it down without drinking. “This isn’t about business.” Something in his tone made my stomach flutter. Not quite nervous. More like anticipation. “Okay. What

The venue was perfect.I stood backstage at Lincoln Center, watching my team make final adjustments to the runway. Lights positioned just right. Sound system tested and retested. Models lined up, their makeup flawless, their energy electric.This was it. ETHEREAL’s biggest show yet. The culmination of eighteen months of work, of building my empire piece by piece.And tonight, the entire fashion world was watching.“Ms. Moore, we’re ten minutes out.” My stage manager appeared at my elbow. “Press is seated. Buyers are in their places. We’re ready whenever you are.”“Thank you.” I took a deep breath, smoothed down my dress. Black, elegant, powerful. Everything I’d become.Clara found me in the chaos. “You look terrified.”“I am terrified.”“Good. That means you care.” She squeezed my hand. “But Serena, you’ve got this. This collection is your best work. The world is going to lose its mind.”“Or hate it.”“They won’t hate it. Trust me.” She pulled me aside. “Ethan and Adrian are here. Thi

{ONE MONTH LATER} The phone rang while I was staring at the city skyline, pretending to care about the quarterly projections Diana had sent over an hour ago. I knew who it was before I looked at the screen. My stomach knew. That traitorous flutter that made me feel seventeen instead of a woman who’d built an empire from ashes. Lucas Grant. One month. I’d told him one month, and Lucas, being Lucas, had probably marked it on his calendar. Maybe even set a reminder. The thought made my lips twitch, something warm and unfamiliar spreading through my chest. I let it ring twice more. Not playing games, just… breathing. Remembering how to do this. How to let someone in when every instinct I’d honed over the past years screamed at me to stay behind my walls where it was safe, where no one could touch me. Where no one could hurt me. But Lucas wasn’t Adrian. He’d never been Adrian. I answered. “Grant.” “Moore.” His voice was warm, with that edge of amusement he always had when we did thi