Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 81 - Chapitre 90

Alina’s POVI did not want to go to the hospital that morning. I knew my body, and I knew hospitals. One always led to the other telling me something I was not ready to hear. But Lila had hovered over me for four straight days, watching the fever come and go, watching me drag myself to work like pride alone could keep me standing.“You look like you are going to collapse,” she said that morning, arms crossed, eyes worried. “You are going. No arguments.”I hated that she was right.The fever had been relentless. It would break for a few hours, just enough for me to convince myself I was fine, then come crashing back harder. My head throbbed constantly, my body felt heavy, and even breathing sometimes felt like work. Still, I had gone to the bar every night, smiled through it, poured drinks, ignored the way my hands shook by the end of my shifts.Now, sitting in the hospital, the smell of antiseptic making my stomach churn, I wondered why I always waited until things got unbearable befo

Edrick’s POVAfter Alina ran off, I stood there longer than I should have.The parking lot felt too open, too bright, like everything had seen me freeze. I finally forced my legs to move and got into the car. The door shut with a dull thud, sealing me in with Aria’s presence, her perfume, her quiet expectation.“What took you so long?” Aria asked, already buckling her seatbelt. “It’s just a parking lot, Edrick.”“I didn’t realize I was on a timer,” I replied flatly, as the engine started. She frowned but said nothing else.The drive home was hell.My hands were on the steering wheel, but my mind was nowhere near the road. Alina’s face kept flashing in my head, pale and stunned, her eyes locked on mine like she had been struck by something invisible. I replayed the moment over and over again, wondering what she had been doing at the hospital, wondering if she was sick, wondering why my chest still hurt this much after everything.I clipped the side mirror of the first car without eve

ALINA-S POVPanic shot through me, my breath catching, my hands struggling, but then the heat hit me: the familiar scent of him, sharp and commanding, that signature cologne that always made my heart betray me.Edrick. His lips crashed against mine, hard, insistent, and despite the whirlwind of fear and disbelief, I let him. I let him because a part of me had been craving this release, this chaotic, overwhelming connection I thought I had buried forever. His hands roamed, gripping me, holding me close, and for a long, unmeasured moment, the world narrowed to his touch, his presence, the way my body recognized him even when my mind screamed that this was wrong.Finally, when our breaths came fast and shallow, I pulled back slightly, searching his eyes. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice trembling between awe and fear.He was panting too, his dark eyes stormy, his jaw tight. “Why are you doing this to me, Alina?” His voice was hoarse, almost ragged, as though the words had be

Aria’s POVI did not stop running until I reached the part of the house where I could crashout in peace. The library.No one ever comes here. The door slammed shut behind me, but it did nothing to quiet the noise in my head. My chest rose and fell too fast, anger and humiliation burning through me in waves.I was tired.Tired of pretending this pregnancy was some magical blessing. Tired of smiling for cameras. Tired of feeling heavy, nauseous, uncomfortable in my own body. Sometimes I wanted to rip it out of me just to feel light again, just to be free.But that was not what hurt the most.What hurt was the smell.I could still smell it in my memory. That soft, floral scent I knew too well. My sister’s perfume. The same one she used to spray every morning when we were younger. The same one that used to cling to her dresses.Alina.My fingers curled into fists.Was he really sneaking around with her?After everything. After I had twisted the story perfectly. After I made her the liar,

Alina’s POVI practically ran into the club.My lungs burned, my head still slightly heavy from the fever, but I forced myself forward. The bass was already thundering through the walls. I slipped behind the counter just as my boss turned around.“You’re late,” he barked.“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “Traffic and…”“I don’t want excuses.” His voice rose above the music. “You think this is charity? If you want to keep working here, you show up on time.”“I understand.”He glared at me for a second longer before waving me off. “Go. Start clearing tables. And fix that face. Customers don’t pay to see miserable.”I swallowed whatever pride I had left and moved.The night swallowed me almost instantly. I carried trays, wiped tables, forced polite smiles at men who stared too long. I avoided thinking. Avoided feeling. Just move. Just survive.For a moment, I almost convinced myself that everything from last night had been a fever dream.Then the boss came back.“You,” he snapped, pointing a