All Chapters of From My Ex's Betrayal To His Father's Bed: Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

TERRAThe Brillantes compound was a fortress of marble, gold, and quiet cruelty and I had never felt more at home.I reclined on the silk chaise in my private quarters, legs crossed elegantly, a crystal glass of chilled champagne balanced between my fingers. The room smelled of fresh roses and expensive perfume, the kind that cost more than most people earned in a month. Heavy velvet drapes framed the tall windows, and the floor-to-ceiling mirror across from me reflected back a woman who finally looked like she belonged in this world.A queen.I snapped my fingers once. The young maid who had been polishing the already-spotless side table flinched visibly.“Bring me more ice,” I said lazily, not even bothering to look at her. “This champagne is warming too quickly. And make sure the cubes are perfectly clear this time. Last night’s were cloudy.”“Yes, Miss Terra,” the girl whispered, bowing low before hurrying out.I smiled to myself as the door clicked shut. The servants here had lea

TERRAThe door burst open with a loud bang that echoed through the luxurious room like a gunshot.Quino froze mid-thrust, still buried deep inside me, his hand still wrapped around my throat. My orgasm was still rippling through me, my walls clenching around him involuntarily as I gasped for air. Both of us turned our heads toward the intruder.One of Quino’s most trusted lieutenants stood in the doorway, eyes wide, face pale. He was breathing hard, clearly having run here.“Boss,” he panted, gaze darting away from our compromising position as quickly as possible. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it’s urgent. Your father wants to see you immediately. He heard rumors about the Lucchesi visit tomorrow and he’s demanding details. He said if you don’t come now, he’ll send Juno instead.”Quino’s jaw clenched so hard I could hear his teeth grind. His hips gave one last shallow thrust—almost involuntarily—before he slowly pulled out of me, leaving me empty and aching. I quickly pulled my dress d

SCRIBONIAI stood in front of the mirror in my small but neat bedroom, heart hammering so loudly I could hear it in my ears.The dress Julia had bought me fit beautifully. A soft lavender midi dress with delicate lace details on the sleeves and hem. It was elegant without being too young, perfect for a woman in her forties who wanted to look put-together but not desperate. I had curled my hair into soft waves that framed my face, applied light makeup just enough to bring out my eyes and add a touch of color to my cheeks and even dabbed on the perfume Julia had sent last month.I looked… good. Better than I had in years.But my hands were still shaking as I smoothed the fabric over my hips one last time.It had been so many years since I last saw Augustus.So many years since we stood in the same room, breathed the same air, spoke more than a few polite words. The last time we were truly together was before everything fell apart — before the betrayals, the distance, the pain that had

MARCUSThe study was quiet, the only sound the soft scratch of my pen against paper as I reviewed the latest shipment reports. My mind kept drifting back to Julia. The way she had glowed this morning while folding those tiny clothes, the excited text she had sent me about her parents coming over. I had planned to finish early so I could be home when Augustus and Scribonia arrived. A family dinner. Something normal for once.My phone vibrated sharply on the desk.I glanced at the screen. It was one of my senior men—the head of external security.I answered immediately. “What is it?”The voice on the other end was tight, clipped. “Boss… there’s been an accident. Don Augustus and Scribonia. Their car went off the road on the way to the mansion. It looks bad. They’ve been rushed to St. Benedict's Hospital. Critical condition. Both of them.”The words hit me like a physical blow.For a split second, the world went completely silent. My pen slipped from my fingers and rolled across the des

JULIAAn hour had passed.I kept checking my phone every few minutes, the screen lighting up with the same message from my father:[We’ll be there shortly.]It was still open on my screen, the little checkmarks showing it had been read. I had replied with a happy heart emoji and “Okay, careful on the way Dad!” but there had been no response since then. No follow-up text. No call. Nothing.I sat on the edge of the sofa in the living room, one hand resting on my heavy, rounded belly where the twins were kicking lazily, as if they could sense my growing unease. The mansion was still beautifully prepared, fresh flowers everywhere, the dining table set for four, the soft lighting exactly how I wanted it for a warm family evening. Phoebe hovered nearby, pretending to rearrange a vase while stealing worried glances at me.“They’re probably just running late,” she said gently for the third time. “Traffic can be unpredictable.”I nodded, forcing a small smile. “Yeah… maybe.”But my stomach fel