Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 11 - Chapitre 20

Saturday morning came too quickly. Shayla stood in her small kitchen, watching Ayven eat the breakfast she'd prepared—scrambled eggs, toast, and sliced strawberries arranged the way he liked. He looked better this morning, the color back in his cheeks, his energy returning in the form of constant chatter about the cartoon he'd watched before bed. "Momma, can we go to the park later?" he asked between bites. "We'll see, baby. Momma has to work for a few hours first." She slid his medication across the table—two pills, one for the allergies, one a precaution the doctor had prescribed. "Take these for me." Ayven made a face but obediently swallowed them with orange juice. "I'm fine now, Momma. You don't have to worry so much." "I always worry. That's my job." She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo. "Ruby's going to stay with you while I'm gone, okay?" "Okay!" His face lit up. Ruby days were always the best days in Ayven's book. Sha

Shayla stumbled back to her office, her heart hammering so hard she thought it might crack through her ribs. His hand on her wrist. That simple touch had detonated something inside her she'd spent seven years trying to bury. She pressed her back against her office door the moment it closed, her breathing ragged, her whole body trembling. Not from the fever—though that was still burning through her—but from the memory his touch had awakened. Her skin still tingled where his fingers had been. Gentle. Hesitant. Warm. The same hands that used to hold her like she was precious. The same hands that used to trace lazy patterns on her skin in the dark. The same hands she'd trusted completely before he shattered her. "No," she whispered to the empty room. "No, no, no." But her body didn't listen. Her body remembered everything. The way he used to pull her close when she was stressed about exams. The way his thumb would brush across her cheekbone before he kissed her. The way she used to

Grayson's answer threw Shayla completely off guard. "He was flirting with you." The words were simple, direct, lacking any of the corporate deflection she'd expected. "But I handled it well," Shayla countered, trying to inject reason into the conversation. "That's not something to lose billions of dollars over. The company—" "I don't care about his money, Shayla." Grayson cut her off, his voice tight with barely controlled emotion. "I have more than enough to buy out his generation and I wouldn't even feel it in my bank account." The jealousy was obvious now, raw and unfiltered. The way she'd smiled at Henderson—too warmly, too professionally pleasant—had eaten at him throughout the entire presentation. "No one flirts with what's mine." The possessive declaration hung in the air between them. Shayla's eyebrows shot up. "What's yours?" Grayson seemed to catch himself, jaw working as he backtracked. "I mean my staff. I protect my staff from men like Henderson. It's my responsibi

Saturday morning dawned bright and clear, and Shayla woke up with a smile already on her face. Her phone notification had pinged at 6:47 AM with the alert she'd been waiting for all week: **Direct Deposit Successful - GC Group of Companies.** Her first salary. She'd pulled up her banking app with trembling fingers, barely breathing as the numbers loaded on her screen. And then she'd screamed. Not a little scream. A full, unrestrained scream of pure joy that probably woke up half the apartment building. By 9:00 AM, she was in the living room, her laptop open on the coffee table, music blasting from her phone speakers, dancing around like she'd lost her mind. Ayven emerged from his bedroom, hair sleep-mussed, rubbing his eyes with confusion. "Momma, why are you screaming? Did something happen?" "Something happened, baby!" Shayla grabbed his hands and spun him around, laughing so hard her stomach hurt. "Something wonderful happened! Momma got paid! Her first real salary from the n

The use of her first name, the raw desperation in his voice, made something crack in her chest. "Listen?" The word came out sharp, cutting. "I should listen? Do you have any idea what I went through, Grayson?" His name on her lips—not Mr. Cross, but Grayson—seemed to hit him like a physical blow. "I called off the bet." The words tumbled out rushed, desperate. "Long before that night. Long before we—I told Ivan and Jake weeks before that I was done. That you weren't a game to me. That what we had was real." "What about the video, Gray?" Her voice was shaking now, seven years of buried pain rising to the surface. "What about the video of you filming us making love? Of you recording the most intimate moment of my life and posting it for the entire campus to see?" "No." His voice cracked. "No, Shayla, I didn't—I had no idea there was a camera. I would never—" "In your room, Grayson!" She was shouting now, tears burning behind her eyes. "In your room! How could you not know?" "I did