Alle Kapitel von Falling For My Father's Best Friend : Kapitel 11 – Kapitel 20

**Isabella's POV**The elevator doors slid shut and I pressed myself against the wall, breathing through my mouth so the metallic taste of blood wouldn't make me gag again. My reflection in the polished steel was a stranger: left eye swollen almost shut, purple blooming across the cheekbone like spilled ink, lower lip split and crusted. "Oh my goodness! Oh my goodness!!" Every heartbeat throbbed in my face. I blocked Ethan 's number before the elevator even reached my floor-thumb shaking so hard I almost missed the button.'I don't want to die . I don't want to die like this! Not now!!'Pass the street. The road. Even getting into my building no one asked. It was like the world had gone void. No one gives a hoot unless it happens to them. Not even the sight of a freshly-beaten crying woman. What was I expecting? They owe me nothing.Inside the apartment I locked the door, deadbolt, chain, then leaned my forehead against the wood and let the tears come. Silent at first. Then choking

Three days without seeing Mateo felt like slow suffocation. I should have been relieved—no intense stares, no commanding voice making my thighs clench, no risk of him noticing the fading green-yellow bruise around my left eye or the scabbed cut on my lip. But relief never came. Instead I caught myself missing him. The way his dark eyes locked on mine like I was the only thing in the room. The low rumble of “Angioletto” that always sent heat straight between my body. The brush of his fingers when he tucked hair behind my ear. The way he kissed me like he was starving and I was the only thing that could feed him.I missed him so badly it hurt.Aisha stopped by mid-morning to remind me about her birthday party tomorrow. She looked radiant—high ponytail, gold hoop earrings, fitted emerald blazer that made her waist look impossible. I tried not to compare. Failed.“Black theme,” she reminded me with that easy smile. “Wear whatever makes you feel powerful.”I nodded. Forced enthusiasm.

**Isabella's POV**"Someone hurt me, Mateo." I said.He nodded like mentally taking note. Like he knew but was waiting for me to tell him. The glint in his eyes, that murderous glint that soon got masked by desire.My chin throbbed where his grip had been-tight, possessive, bruising in the best way. I loved it. Loved the way he'd groaned when I took him deep, the way his hips jerked when I swallowed around him, the way he'd called me his good girl while he fucked my throat raw. My core clenched at the memory, slick and aching. I squirmed against the sheets, thighs pressing together, trying to ease the empty throb between my legs.I wanted him inside me again. Wanted him to slam me down, stretch me, ruin me. Wanted to feel every thick inch splitting me open until I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but scream his name.But he didn't give me that.Instead he lifted me like I weighed nothing-bridal style, arms strong and steady-and carried me to the bedroom. Laid me

The hospital doors hissed shut behind us like they were glad to be rid of me. Mateo kept one arm around my waist—loose, but there. His fingers drummed against my hip, restless. Every time we passed a nurse or a gurney, his eyes flicked over me like I might shatter. I have a medical degree for Pete's sake. Does he know that about me?He didn’t ask about Tony. Not once.When I told him the receptionist’s name, he blinked. “Who?”“Tony. Fifth floor. You hired him.”He shrugged. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”I stopped walking. “He almost bled out. And you don’t even know his name?”Mateo’s jaw tightened. “I sign the checks, Bell. Not the name tags.”Something cold slid through my chest. If he didn’t care about the people who worked for him—who the hell was I?Ethan waited by the car, eyes flicking between us in the rear-view mirror. Every time our gazes locked, he looked away fast. Good. Let him squirm.“Hang around,” Mateo told him. “I’ll call when I need you.”The drive home was quiet. Mateo

Aisha's birthday party was alive in a way I hadn't expected-music pulsing through the loft, fairy lights strung across exposed brick, laughter cutting through the bass. Tables groaned under platters of jollof rice (spicy, smoky, nothing like anything I'd tasted before), grilled chicken with crisp edges and tender meat, puff-puff dusted with sugar, and bowls of peppered stew that made my eyes water just looking at them. Drinks flowed-cocktails in bright colors, palm wine in clay cups, bottles of chilled Hennessy passed hand to hand. Games broke out in corners: charades, a loud round of "Never Have I Ever" that had people shrieking and drinking.I stayed on the edges. Black dress clinging to my hips, slit riding high on one thigh, neckline dipping low enough to make me feel exposed every time someone glanced over. I sipped water. Smiled when Aisha pulled me into a quick hug and whispered "You look dangerous tonight." I danced a little-awkward, self-conscious-but mostly watched. Watched