Semua Bab Falling For My Father's Best Friend : Bab 21 - Bab 30

I think I finally grew some damn balls with Mateo tonight. But shit - I should've grown more. I should've just asked him about Valentina. Straight up. No bullshit. How the hell did I just swallow her story without even giving him a chance to speak? Without proof? Without anything? Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.Walking back to my room after he left, I slapped my own cheek - hard. It stung. Good. I deserved it. I should've let him touch me. Should've forgotten her face and let him take me again. He wanted *me*. Not her. Me. And I pushed him away like a fucking idiot.Am I really this dumb?Clock said midnight. I should've crashed. Slept. But my brain wouldn't shut up.Then the doorbell rang. Loud. Angry banging right after.Everyone in this building probably hates me now. Late-night visitors. Mateo twice in one night? They're gonna skin me alive.I was excited though. Stupid excited. Thought it was him coming back. I tried to keep my face blank - cold - didn't want him to see how much

Those words from Lucian kept circling back no matter how hard I tried to push them away. "When does she even die?"My own son - twelve years old - already sounding like he'd swallowed every bitter thing his mother ever said about women who got close to me. I sat in the driver's seat with the engine off, drumming my fingers against my temple, trying to make sense of it. Where the hell was he getting ideas like that? Lately he's been... changing. Slipping cash out of my wallet when he thinks I'm not looking. Cursing under his breath when he's angry. Slamming doors. Ignoring me when I call his name. Acting like the whole world owes him something. I should have taken him avway from her. But that would be cruel, taking a child away from his mother. He deserves love but not this type.I thought moving him away from Valentina would fix it. New school. New city. Me actually being around for once. I thought I could raise him better than she ever could. But apparently you can't scrub a

°Isabella's POV°I had a feeling Mateo was inside when I approached the door and saw it was unlocked. And sure enough, I was right.He was the only one with a key to my place, and even though I'd told him a hundred times not to just let himself in without asking, he kept doing it anyway.Honestly, the moment I stepped inside and saw him stretched out on the sofa-looking so relaxed and almost fragile-something tightened in my chest.I wanted to shield him from the world.But as I leaned down to brush my fingers through his hair and trace the line of his jaw, the ugly words his wife had thrown at me came rushing back. Before I could stop myself, my hand was already rising to strike him.Of course, that didn't stop my pulse from racing when his eyes fluttered open and he looked up at me, still heavy with sleep.That dizzying feeling lasted only until he spoke."Don't go out by yourself again. Don't leave without telling me."The words grated on me. He was trying to cage me, and it made m

Saturday morning arrived, sunlight filtering through the gaps in the blinds. I pried my eyes open, met with a dull, throbbing ache behind my temples – not a full-blown, incapacitating hangover, but the kind that served as a sharp reminder of last night's poor decisions. Gin. Just one glass, I'd told myself. Clearly, one was enough to leave my mouth tasting like stale regret."I am slowly becoming an alcoholic" I muttered.I groaned, rolling onto my side. My fingers fumbled for my phone on the nightstand. No new messages from Mateo. No missed calls.Nothing but the cold, indifferent silence. I was getting pissed I haven't gotten a reply from my dad yet. I stared at the blank conversation, willing his name to pop up, a message to appear. Today was different, I told myself. Today I didn't have to plaster on a fake smile and pretend everything was fine at work. Today I could just... breathe.Dragging myself to the kitchen, I filled the kettle and spooned coffee into the coffee maker. I m

Sunday morning sunlight poured through the tall windows of Mateo's bedroom like it had been invited. I woke slowly, wrapped in sheets that still smelled like him ; cedar, clean skin, a faint trace of last night's sweat and sex. My body ached in the best way: wrists faintly marked from the belt, thighs tender, core still sensitive. I stretched. Smiled into the pillow. Then I smelled coffee.Mateo walked in carrying a tray . Black coffee, fresh croissants, sliced fruit, a small vase with one white rose. I just knew he outdid himself.He was shirtless, sweatpants low on his hips, hair messy from sleep. He looked softer in daylight. Less like the untouchable billionaire and more like a man who had spent the night inside me."Morning, Angioletto," he murmured, setting the tray on the bed. He sat on the edge. Brushed hair from my face. He hesitated, his face following everywhere I turn."You okay? After last night?"I laughed . I knew something warranted the breakfast in bed. "I'm mo