บททั้งหมดของ THE KING’S UNWANTED BABY MAMA : บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

CHAPTER SIXTY TWO The house is buzzing today. The kitchen is loud, alive, full of movement and smell and warmth. Nina has completely taken over like a professional, hair tied up, apron on, commanding the space with confidence. My mom stays right beside her, chopping, tasting, correcting, laughing when Nina playfully waves her off. “Careful with that,” my mom says for the third time. “Trust me,” Nina replies, grinning. “This is how chefs do it.” The main dish is seafood, rich and aromatic, filling the entire house. My stomach growls as I help set the table—plates lined neatly, glasses polished, napkins folded just right. Blake will be here soon, and for some reason, that thought makes me smile more than I expect. In the sitting room, Zaiden lies comfortably in his baby trolley, completely captivated by a cartoon playing softly. His little legs kick now and then, and every few minutes he lets out a happy sound, like he’s applauding the show. I keep glancing at him,

CHAPTER SIXTY FOUR I arrive at the hotel and stop in front of it for a moment. The building towers over me, glass, steel, quiet power. Deluxe Hotel. It looks exactly the way I imagined it would: expensive, polished, untouchable. People move in and out effortlessly, rolling suitcases, dressed in confidence, laughter trailing behind them like perfume. I inhale slowly, steadying my racing heart. Whatever I see in there… whatever I experience… I can handle it. With that thought, I step inside. Cool air greets me immediately, scented faintly with flowers and something crisp I can’t name. The lobby is alive, soft music playing, heels clicking on marble floors, low conversations blending into one elegant hum. I take it all in without staring too long, reminding myself why I’m here. I walk straight to the reception desk. “Good afternoon,” I say, keeping my voice calm. “I’m here for an interview.” The receptionist gives me a brief, professional smile and makes a quick cal

CHAPTER SIXTY SIX After getting approved for the job a few nights ago, today finally arrives. My first day. The morning passes in a blur of discipline and quiet preparation. I start at the gym, pushing my body just enough to feel alive, reminding myself that I am strong, that I still own myself. Afterward, I reply to emails, hotel updates, legal notes, things no one here knows I’m actually in charge of. Then I’m back in mom mode. Zaiden comes first. I feed him, change him, kiss his soft cheeks until he giggles, that sound grounding me more than anything else ever could. Nina watches me with that knowing smile, the one that says, you’ve got this, even when I’m not sure I do. Before I leave, I pause at the door and look back at my son. “This is for you,” I whisper, even though he can’t understand yet. The drive to the hotel is quiet. My thoughts aren’t. When I arrive, the building rises in front of me—tall, elegant, alive. People move in and out effortlessly, unawar

CHAPTER SIXTY EIGHT No. There is absolutely no way I’m getting fired on my first day. Not after everything it took to get here. Not when I need to stay undercover for a year or at least seven months, long enough to see everything, understand everyone, and protect what’s mine. Linda might think she’s dramatic, but she has no idea who she’s dealing with. She has clearly never seen me perform. Because the same woman standing here in a stiff hotel uniform once played Delilah in a church drama and brought the entire congregation to tears—including the pastor’s wife. I didn’t just act. I delivered. So I decide instantly. Before Diego can turn his back on me, I move fast. I drop to the floor in front of Linda, knees hitting the carpet with a soft thud. Tears flood my eyes on command. My voice breaks perfectly, just the right amount. “I’m so sorry,” I say, hands clasped tightly. “I would never disrespect you. I was exhausted from work, that’s all. I promise it won’t happen ag

CHAPTER SEVENTY I don’t wait around. The moment Linda is out of my sight, I pivot and head for the stairwell, my shoes slapping against concrete as I climb. One floor. Two. Three. My lungs burn, my chest tightens, but I keep going like I’m running from something that might reach out and grab me if I slow down. By the time I reach the fourth floor, I’m gasping. I lean against the wall for a second, pressing a hand to my chest, forcing air back into my body. My legs feel weak as I push open the staff room door. Annabel is already there. She’s seated on one of the benches, shoulders stiff, hands folded tightly in her lap. The first thing I notice is her face, slightly swollen, eyes red like she’s been crying but trying very hard to hide it. She looks up at me and frowns. “Why are you sweating like that? And breathing so hard?” “I… took the stairs,” I say between breaths. She stares at me, her expression clearly saying *there’s an el