บททั้งหมดของ MARRIED TO MY EX-FATHER IN LAW.: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

My entire body tenses automatically. Hannah notices. "It's okay," she says quietly. "He's not Ethan. You don't have to be afraid."But four years of conditioning don't just disappear because someone says nice things. Footsteps approaching the kitchen. Ocean appears in the doorway, still in his suit from whatever meeting he was at. His eyes immediately find me, and I see relief flash across his face."Lola. Good, you're up." His voice is gentle. "I was worried... I'm glad Hannah is taking care of you.""She barely ate," Hannah reports like she's tattling. "I had to force feed her.""I didn't force..." I start, but Ocean's slight smile stops me. "Thank you, Hannah. For looking after her.""Of course, boss."Ocean's eyes move over my face, probably cataloging the bruises that are even more colorful today than yesterday. Something dark flickers in his expression."How are you feeling?" he asks."I'm... okay." It's not true, but what else do I say?"Liar," Hannah mutters. I shoot her a lo

The Crimson Eclipse is Dmitri Volkov's flagship club in East London. Red velvet. Dark corners. Music pounding loud enough to cover conversations that need covering. It's where deals get made. Where alliances form. Where enemies meet to plot.Ethan walks in at midnight, . The humiliation burning deeper than any physical wound.Ocean chose her. Chose that worthless bitch over his own son.The betrayal fuels every step Ethan takes through the club.A bouncer leads him past the main floor, through a private door, up stairs to Dmitri's office. The music fades to a dull thump. Up here, it's quiet. Professional.Dmitri Volkov sits behind a massive desk, fifty-five years old with steel-gray hair and eyes like a shark. Cold. Calculating. Always looking for weakness to exploit."Ethan Moretti." Dmitri's accent is thick, Russian vowels bleeding through English words. "Sit."It's not an invitation. It's a command.Ethan sits, trying to project confidence even though his hands are shaking with ra

LOLA'S POV I'm in the library when I hear Ocean's voice in the hallway.Not loud. Not angry. Just... commanding. The kind of voice that makes people listen without him having to raise it.I set down my book and move to the doorway, staying in the shadows where I can see but not be seen.Ocean is talking to two of his men near the front entrance. One of them looks young, maybe mid-twenties. The other is older, graying at the temples."I don't care what the excuse is," Ocean is saying. His voice is firm but not cruel. "The shipment needs to arrive on time. If there are problems with the route, find a different route. If there are problems with the supplier, find a different supplier. But the client gets their delivery when promised. Understood?""Yes, boss," both men say in unison."Good. Bryan, you'll oversee the alternative route planning. Talk to Daniel about resources. Lilo, I want a full security assessment before we move anything. We're not taking chances.""On it," the older man

LOLA'S POV "Would you like to have dinner with me?" Ocean's voice from the doorway makes me jump. I'm curling up with a book in the library—my favorite spot these days—and I didn't hear him approach. "Dinner?" I repeat stupidly. Like I don't know what the word means. "Yes. With me. Tonight. Unless you'd rather eat alone, which is completely fine, I just thought..." He stops himself. Runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry. That came out like an interrogation. I'm just asking if you'd like company for dinner."He looks uncomfortable. Ocean Moretti, the Capo who commands entire rooms with a look, is fidgeting in my library doorway asking me to dinner. It's kind of adorable. Wait. Adorable? No. Not adorable. He's not adorable. He's just... awkward right now. That's all. "I'd like that," I hear myself say. "Dinner. With you. That would be... nice." "Yeah?" His face does this thing. Not quite a smile but close. "Good. Great. Cook made roast chicken. It's really good. I mean, everythin

Day two, I find him checking locks on the ground floor windows."Hey, security guy."He doesn't look up from the window latch. "It's Ezra.""I know. But security guy is more fun to say.""Is there something you need?""Just making conversation. You know, that thing humans do where they talk to each other about nothing important.""I'm working.""You're always working. Don't you ever take breaks?""I take breaks.""When?""When I'm not working."I laugh. "Wow. Incredibly helpful answer. Thank you."He finishes checking the lock and moves to the next window. I follow."So," I say. "Where'd you work before this? You said you just started.""Private security. Various clients.""Ooh, mysterious. Were they famous? Important? Tell me everything.""Confidential.""Of course it is." I lean against the wall, watching him work. His movements are efficient, practiced. Like he's done this a thousand times. "Military?"That makes him glance at me. "What makes you say that?""The way you move. The p