บททั้งหมดของ Once His Wallflower, Now His Biggest Mistake : บทที่ 111 - บทที่ 120

Chapter 111The transition from the nursery to the scullery was more than a change of rooms; it was a descent into a new circle of hell. Caleb’s gray Antonella dress, already stifling and high-collared, felt like a leaden weight as he stood in the center of Silas Sterling’s private study. The room smelled of old leather, expensive tobacco, and the stagnant, oppressive power of a man who had never been told 'no.'"Don't just stand there like a statue, Antonella," Evelyn’s voice drifted from the doorway, sharp and clinical. She was leaning against the frame, a silver basin in her hands and a predatory glint in her eyes. "My father has had a long morning dealing with the stress of your… light-fingered tendencies. He needs his comfort."Silas sat in a massive wingback chair, his legs extended onto a velvet ottoman. He didn't look at Caleb. To him, Caleb wasn't even a person anymore; he was a tool of penance, a broken thing meant to be ground into the dust."I was telling Father about yo

Chapter 113The air in the garden party suddenly felt as thin as the silk of the "Wallflower" gown. Seraphina’s gaze was a surgical strike, cutting through the layers of expensive cream foundation and the synthetic gray fibers of the wig. The way she whispered about a dead man’s eyes made Caleb’s heart hammer against the tight cage of his corset with such violence he was certain she could see the fabric pulse."I... I do not think so, Señora," Caleb managed to rasp, the Spanish accent trembling under the weight of his terror. He forced his eyes to go dull, to lose the sharp, analytical spark of Caleb Knight, and replaced it with the hollow submission of Antonella. Seraphina didn’t pull away. Instead, she leaned in closer, the scent of her expensive lilies, a fragrance he had once found intoxicating, now only nauseating filling his nose. "Strange. The bone structure... the way you hold your shoulders. It’s a very masculine frame for such a delicate flower, isn't it?"A few feet away

Chapter 115The silver briefcase clicked against the marble of the foyer, a sound that resonated through the floorboards and up into Caleb’s very marrow. He stood paralyzed by the library window, the Wallflower dress feeling less like a costume and more like a burial shroud. Every breath was a struggle against the steel stays of the corset, his lungs burning as the investigator's voice, cold, clinical, and utterly certain dismantled the safety of his cage word by word."The digital signature on the Navarino hospital records originated from a Sterling-owned server, Ms. Sterling," the man said. His voice was getting closer, rising up the grand staircase. "My office doesn't believe in coincidences. We believe in forensics. And our forensics say Caleb Knight is within these walls."Caleb heard Evelyn’s sharp, rhythmic footsteps. She wasn't running; she was hunting. "A bold claim, Mr. Bellignton," she said, her voice a calm, dangerous melody. "I hope your insurance covers the litigation f

Chapter 117The morning air in the Sierra Blanca was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and the distant, salt-heavy tang of the Mediterranean. To anyone else, it was a beautiful day for the Academia de Excelencia’s annual Sports Gala. To Caleb Knight, it was another circle of hell.He stood on the perimeter of the manicured track, his lungs screaming against the relentless grip of the corset. The "Wallflower" gown had been replaced by a slightly more practical, yet equally demeaning, linen nanny’s uniform, drab, heavy, and smelling faintly of the floor polish he’d spent half the night scrubbing. His eyes were bloodshot behind the synthetic gray wisps of his wig. He had bypassed the biometric lock of the safe at 4:00 AM, successfully forging the Antonella de la Vega passport, but the victory felt hollow.Julian had accepted the document with a cold, predatory silence, but Caleb knew he was merely biding his time. The Julian Variable hadn't been solved; it had just been deferred."Focus

Chapter 119 Caleb’s POV: The Hollow KingThe photograph in my hand felt like a shard of dry ice, searing my skin even through the thin fabric of my lace gloves. The ink on the back, “He is watching you, Caleb” wasn't just a threat; it was a breach. It meant the perimeter of the Villa De Cristal was as porous as a sieve. It meant that while I was playing the part of a silent servant, and the Sterling brothers were playing at corporate dominance, a predator had already marked the doors of this house with blood.I looked at the bathroom door. The sound of the shower had ceased, replaced by the heavy, oppressive silence of a predator resting. My CEO brain, the part of me that once calculated risk in the billions was screaming. Evelyn wasn't just playing with fire; she was inviting a nuclear meltdown into the nursery where our children slept.I didn't wait for her to come out. I pushed the door open.The steam was thick, smelling of expensive soaps and the lingering, metallic scent of t