All Chapters of Oh No! I Hired My Husband's Boyfriend : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Chapter 31The silence in the grand hall wasn’t just quiet; it was heavy, like the air right before a building collapses. Every pair of eyes, the social climbers, the desperate bankrupts, and the predatory influencers shifted from the neon stage to us.George’s smug, wolfish grin didn’t just fade. It evaporated. “What did you just say?” George hissed, his voice dropping an octave, his hand tightening on the black remote in his pocket.I didn't flinch. I let my lower lip tremble just enough to look like a concerned, long-suffering wife. I reached out, my fingers hovering near his waist, and then I spoke loud enough to reach the back row of the warehouse.“Oh, honey! I told you the medication would have side effects! Don’t tell me the diarrhea has gotten that serious. You mean you just defecated right now? Right here?”The man in the sequined blazer choked on his own spit. A woman in the front row gasped, covering her mouth with a manicured hand. George went from pale to a shade of cri

Chapter 33Katherine's POVThe voice cut through the tension like warm velvet dragged across bare skin. My pulse spiked instantly, a low thrum that settled deep in my belly. I turned toward the source, and there he was, stepping fully into the light.He was tall, easily matching Killian’s height, with broad shoulders that filled out his charcoal suit in a way that made the fabric look sinful. Dark hair swept back from a face carved with sharp, sensual angles: high cheekbones, a strong jaw shadowed with just enough stubble to look dangerous, and eyes that caught the dim warehouse lights like polished obsidian. His lips curved in a faint, knowing smile that sent heat rushing straight between my thighs. The same electric pull I’d felt when Killian pinned me against the wall minutes ago now hummed under my skin again. That silent swagger, confident, unhurried, utterly commanding made my breath catch fire.Was it him? The man who pinned me cause I still have doubts. The thought flashed ho

Chapter 35Katherine's POV I stared at George like he’d grown a second head. The ugly floral couch creaked under me as I scooted as far away from him as possible, my silk robe still smelling faintly of warehouse dust and bad decisions.“Over my dead body!” I spat, the words echoing off the cheap walls of our assigned living room. The cameras above us whirred softly, no doubt loving every second of this. “You want us to pretend to be in love? After everything? After the diapers, the lies, the way you threw me to the wolves? George, I’d rather French-kiss a live wire.”George leaned back, that Cheshire-cat grin still plastered on his face like he’d just won the lottery instead of proposing mutual emotional terrorism. “Come on, Katherine. Think about it. Killian walks in here with Serena on his arm like she’s the second coming of whatever expensive perfume he’s wearing. You saw his face when I dipped you during that trust walk earlier. He was seething. This is our shot. We sell the fair

Chapter 37Killian’s POVThe words hung in the air like smoke after a gunshot. George stood there in the doorway of our VIP suite, that reborn smugness radiating off him like cheap cologne mixed with victory. Serena’s eyes widened. She muttered something about “giving you two space” and slipped out through the connecting door faster than I’d ever seen her move, her heels clicking awkwardly down the hall until the sound faded. The door clicked shut behind her, leaving just the three of us—no, just the two of us now. Me and the man I used to own.I stared at George, my jaw tight, the Scotch still burning in my throat. “You’ve got some fucking nerve eavesdropping on a private conversation.”George clapped again, slow and theatrical, stepping fully into the suite like he belonged there. The connecting door swung shut with a soft click that felt louder than it should. “Eavesdropping? Please, Killian. These walls are paper-thin. Part of the charm of this circus, right? Rule number one of l

Chapter 39Katherine’s POVThe morning exercise bell rang like a death knell through the Reality House corridors. I dragged myself out of the Reconciliation Suite, still reeling from the text burning a hole in my pocket: It's staged. The silk robe had been swapped for the show-provided athletic wear, tight black leggings and a cropped tank that left little to the imagination. George walked beside me, his hand brushing mine for the cameras, that practiced fake-husband smile plastered on his face.“Morning, darling,” he murmured loud enough for the nearby mics. “Sleep well in our love nest?”I forced a laugh, squeezing his fingers a little too hard. “Like a baby, sweetheart. Your snoring was almost romantic.”Other couples spilled out, already changed and buzzing with forced energy. Contestant 7, a bubbly influencer couple, jogged past us with matching headbands. “Hey, Kendrick duo! Ready to sweat out those marital secrets?” the wife called, winking.Her husband flexed dramatically. “We