All Chapters of My Fiancé's Uncle is Obsessed With Me!: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Emily The moment the bedroom door closed, his restraint snapped. His lips crashed onto mine before I could draw a breath. Hands framing my face, he slid them down to my waist and pulled me flush against him, as if he had been waiting all evening for this exact moment. I gasped against his mouth, my fingers instinctively gripping his shirt. “You started this,” he murmured against my lips, his voice low and rough. I barely had time to respond before he kissed me again—deeper, slower, completely deliberate. I matched his fervour, my fingers working as fast as they could to unbutton his shirt. When we reached the bed, I pulled back slightly, pressing my fingers to his lips to silence him. "I promised I'd make it up to you," I whispered against his ear, kissing it lightly before trailing kisses down his neck. He lay back against the mattress, curiosity twinkling in his eyes as I straddled him and traced a finger across his bare chest. Inside, my nerves were racing. I’d never

Vivian That bastard. How dare he humiliate me like that? The word echoed in my head as I walked down the steps of his mansion, spine straight, chin lifted, every inch the composed heiress the world knew me to be. But inside? I was burning. An illegitimate child. That was what he was. A mistake the old master made before his death—a stain the Carter family had no choice but to acknowledge because of the power Adrian now wielded. If not for the influence in his hands, the shares he controlled, the board members who listened when he spoke, I would never have lowered myself to approach him. Never. He wouldn't even be worthy to clean the soles of my shoes. Yet today—today he had looked at me like I was nothing. Like I was… irrelevant. My heels clicked sharply against the driveway as I reached my car. The driver hurried to open the door, his eyes carefully avoiding mine. Good. Even servants could sense when I was not to be spoken to. I slid into the back seat gracefully, smoothing

Emily The next day was supposed to be mine. A rare, precious Sunday with no office meetings, no forced dinners, no rehearsed smiles. I had planned to spend it sprawled across my bed in oversized pajamas, curtains drawn, phone on silent. Maybe later in the afternoon I would go through some paperwork Adrian had sent me—notes from our last discussion about client negotiations. But first? Rest. Peace. Solitude. That fragile plan shattered the moment the doorbell rang. I was still halfway through my second cup of tea when the housemaid hurried to the living room. "Miss Emily," she called softly, "the Carters' driver is here." My shoulders stiffened instantly. Of course he was. I stepped out into the hallway just as the driver entered, bowing slightly as he handed over an envelope. "Madam Carter requests your presence this afternoon," he said respectfully. "It is a small social gathering. Ladies only." Ladies only. I didn't miss the implication. She wanted to parade her future daug

Emily I touched the earrings instinctively the moment Vivian's voice echoed in my mind. Your earrings are beautiful. My fingers brushed over the delicate gold, tracing the familiar curve. They were simple—elegant without being loud. Small diamonds inlaid carefully, catching light only when one looked closely. Adrian had given them to me. The memory surfaced so vividly that for a second, the noise of the departing cars and polite farewells faded. It had been one of those nights I stayed over at his place. We had been lying in bed, the room dim except for the warm bedside lamp. My head rested against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat while he absentmindedly ran his fingers through my hair. He had gone quiet for a while. Too quiet. Then suddenly, he shifted, sitting up. I remember frowning slightly. "Where are you going?" "Wait," he had murmured. He opened the drawer of his bedside table and took something out, his movements oddly careful. When he turned

Emily The next day at work was as usual. Design drafts. Meetings. Client revisions. Design samples spread across desks. The constant hum of printers and muted conversations blending into the background. I rarely interacted directly with Adrian at work. And even when we did, I made sure to keep things strictly professional. Measured tone. Neutral expression. Proper distance. Especially when others were around. Still… it was impossible to ignore the subtle things. The way his footsteps slowed slightly whenever he passed our department. The faint curve of his lips when our eyes met for a split second. The way my heart betrayed me by responding every single time. As he walked past again that afternoon, the air seemed to shift. A colleague beside me leaned closer. "Does it seem like the CEO comes down here a lot these days," she whispered, "or is it just me?" I kept my eyes on my screen. "I wouldn't know. He probably has work that requires him to." She hummed skeptically. "But why a