Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 71 - Chapitre 80

Teresa's POV The air between us grew thick. My heart started to beat a frantic rhythm against my ribs. He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair away from my face, his fingers lingering on my cheek. His touch was surprisingly gentle.“You should stop looking at me like that,” I whispered.“Like what?”“Like you want to kiss me.”“Then stop looking so kissable.”The words hung in the space between us. I didn’t pull away. He leaned in slowly, giving me every chance to stop him. I didn’t. His lips met mine. The kiss was warm and soft at first, then more certain. The noise of the party, the city, everything just faded into a dull hum.When we broke apart, I was dizzy and breathless. “We should… we should go.”“Yeah,” he agreed, his voice rough. He stood up, a little unsteady, and offered me his hand. “Before I forget why we came here in the first place.”We stumbled out of the ballroom together, our laughter echoing too loudly in the now-quiet hallway. My feet were killing me. I

Teresa's POV.The first thing I registered was a sharp, insistent knocking. It drilled into my skull, which was already throbbing with a dull, persistent ache. My mouth felt like it was full of cotton. I blinked, the hotel room coming into blurry focus. Sunlight streamed too brightly through the windows. The room smelled faintly of stale champagne and something else—regret.I shifted and realized the space beside me in the large bed was empty and cool. Mark was gone.Before I could sit up fully or even call out his name, the door to our suite burst open.“Mark! Teresa! Rise and shine, you lovebirds!” Sophie’s voice cut through the quiet room like a fire alarm. She took two quick steps inside before her eyes landed on me, sitting up and clutching the white sheet to my chest. She stopped dead. Her eyes widened, scanning the scene—the rumpled bed, my state of undress, Mark’s absence. She let out a dramatic gasp and spun around, covering her eyes with one hand. “Oh my God! I knew it! You

Teresa's POV The silence in the room was absolute and heavy, pressing down on me. I could feel the weight of every stare. Victor and Sophie looked horrified. Mark’s father was a statue of bewildered disappointment. The housemaids by the door were frozen, their eyes wide with shock. But it was the look on Mark’s mother’s face that cut the deepest—a flicker of hope that had just been brutally extinguished and replaced with cold, hard reality.Lena’s words, “I slept with his girlfriend,” hung in the air, a poisonous cloud that I was forced to breathe in.And suddenly, I wasn't in that opulent living room anymore.I was fourteen, standing in my aunt’s cramped kitchen. My uncle was staring at me, his face a mask of disgust. My aunt was shrieking, her finger jabbing toward my chest. “We took you in, and this is how you repay us? You little slut!” My cousins huddled in the doorway, their whispers sharp and carrying, their eyes not curious, but accusing. They looked at my developing body, at

Teresa's POV.The heavy hotel door flew open with a bang, its handle denting the drywall. Mark stood in the doorway, his chest heaving slightly, his eyes locked on me with an unnerving, decisive intensity. Before my brain could even process his sudden appearance—before I could form a question or a greeting—he was moving. He crossed the room in three long strides, and in one fluid, shocking motion, he bent down, wrapped a strong arm around my waist, and hoisted me over his shoulder as if I were a sack of flour.A startled yelp escaped my lips. “Mark! What the hell are you doing?” I screamed, my voice shrill with disbelief. My hands flailed, beating uselessly against the solid muscle of his back. My purse and its contents scattered across the floor. “Put me down!”“You’re coming with me,” he stated, his voice firm and low, completely ignoring my protests and the way I wriggled in his grasp.He carried me out of the room and into the hallway. The plush carpet gave way to the hard, cool c

The heavy, soundproofed door of the penthouse clicked shut behind us, and the sudden, profound silence felt like a physical weight. The roar of the city, the frantic energy from the car and the accident, all of it was instantly muffled into a low, distant hum. The air in the apartment was still and cool, smelling faintly of leather polish and clean linen. My own breathing sounded too loud in the quiet.Mark didn't say anything at first. He just stood there, his keys clinking softly as he dropped them into a ceramic bowl on a sleek, minimalist console table. His hand brushed against mine as he turned, a brief, intentional touch that sent a jolt straight up my arm. It was a simple gesture, but it grounded me, reminding me he was here, solid and real, in this strange, new space."This is the living room," he said finally, his voice calm but with that underlying command that was always there. He gestured with his chin toward the expansive room. Large, floor-to-ceiling windows offered a di