บททั้งหมดของ My Best Friend’s Uncle… and My Baby Daddy: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

An annoying, persistent buzzing sound jerked me out of my slumber. Vibrating against the mahogany of the nightstand with a rhythmic intensity that seemed to drill into my brain. Just when I thought I was relaxed enough to return to my sleep, the same sound stirred me back.I was more than a bit irritated. After everything that had happened at the hospital, and the way Eric had held me last night, I just wanted a few hours of peace. I wanted to stay in the bubble of his "I love you" for as long as possible. But the phone wouldn't let me.Checking what it was, I found my cellphone lighting up the dark room. It pinged every few seconds, the screen flashing with a relentless stream of notifications. I had half a mind to just turn it off, toss it under the bed, and get on with my sleep, but something stopped me.Opening it, I was met with a flood of notifications. Thousands of pings from different social media apps and dozens of alerts from news outlets. My heart skipped a beat as the firs

Eric’s POVIn the vast quietness of his home office, the only sound was the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock and the occasional rustle of paper. Eric flipped through the file on his desk, his eyes scanning the lines with a clinical precision. This was more than he had bargained for. The betrayal wasn't just a minor; it was printed in black and white, documented and undeniable.His assistant, George, stood by his side, his shadow stretching long across the hardwood floor. George had a grim expression etched onto his face. He remained silent, but his mind was racing. He could only imagine how Eric must be feeling right now. By all rights, Eric should be furious. Any other man would be tearing the room apart, screaming at the heavens, or at the very least, pouring a double scotch to numb the sting of the current development.Eric, being the sharp-minded businessman that he was, had begun looking into the sudden release of that documentary the second it hit the airwaves. Somethin

Eric’s POV"—so that's why it's important I go do this alone," I said to Autumn. I didn't look at her as I spoke, focusing instead on the metal teeth of my suitcase as I pulled the zipper shut. The sound was loud in the quiet bedroom, echoing like a final decision."But still, I want to come with you. I don't feel comfortable letting you fight for me while I stay here," she said. Her voice was small, but I could hear the stubbornness in it. She was standing by the bed, her hands twisting together.I stopped what I was doing and looked at her. I could see the worry etched into her face, the way her eyes searched mine for any sign of doubt."Look, we can't take Finn. One of us has to stay and take care of him," I explained. It was the logical choice, the only choice. We couldn't drag a child into the middle of a corporate and media war, especially not in a different country where we didn't have the same security."But you don't need to go,"

Autumn’s POVWe had finally arrived in Edinburgh. After the flight and the long drive from the private airfield, I was physically exhausted. The city was beautiful even in the dark, with its old stone streets and the looming castle in the distance, but I was too tired to truly appreciate the view. My only focus was the new house we were supposed to be staying at.It was a large, secluded villa on the edge of the city, surrounded by high stone walls and thick trees. I couldn't physically take in the full scale of the house because of the late hour we had arrived, but I made it my first priority to explore it once we were settled inside.I carried Finn upstairs. He was a heavy weight in my arms, deep in a dreamless sleep. I put him into his new room, tucked him into the fresh sheets, and kissed his forehead. As I walked through the hallways to our own room, I realized the place was exactly as we had designed it. Eric had made sure of that. The entire house r

The silence in the Edinburgh house was becoming more chaotic than I had imagined when we left London. Eric had been scarce lately. Even though we were under the same roof, he felt miles away. He spent nearly every waking hour in his home office, often sleeping on the leather sofa there instead of coming to bed.He was buried in documents. Every time I passed the door, I heard the frantic clicking of a keyboard or the low tone of his voice on a conference call. I hadn't wanted to pry, but I had gone in once when he wasn't around just to bring him a fresh pot of coffee. What I discovered on his desk made my heart race. He wasn't just working; he was at war. He was suing every single news outlet that had run the falsified story about my past. He was going after the producers who aired that "documentary" and every witness who had testified selling their soul for fifteen minutes of fame.I felt a deep sense of loneliness. I knew he was doing this for us—trying to clear our family’s name an