All Chapters of Falling For My Father's Best Friend : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

**MATEO'S POV**I arrived in Berlin last night. The wheels of the plane touched down at Tegel just after midnight, the city lights blurring past the jet window like streaks of wet paint. It might have seemed crazy to call Isabella after watching her disappear into her building, but I couldn't help myself. I stood across the street, collar pulled high against the biting wind, and waited until I heard the distinct click of her door closing before dialing her number. Hearing her voice sleepy, irritated, but undeniably alive nearly shattered my resolve. I had to remind myself that this wasn't stalking.It was 'concern'. I love her so much to be this concerned.That's what I kept repeating in my head, a mantra I didn't quite believe myself.After our little talk, I contacted Rafiq."Lucian?""Sleeping, sir. Therapy went well today. He asked about you.""Good. Keep him close."I ended the call and booked a hotel two blocks from Charité. It wasn't the closest option, nor the most luxurious

**MATEO'S POV**Evening settled over Berlin like spilled oil in water, slow, the city lights blurring against the glass of my hotel window until everything appeared smeared and indistinct. I stood there, one hand in my pocket, the other cradling a glass of scotch I hadn't drank from.I couldn't shake the image of Lukas face and what I said. I asked him to break her heart. Damn. Had I made the right choice coming here?Would she ever forgive me for what I did to Lukas for dragging his secrets into the open, for turning his office into a battlefield?The door opened behind me with a soft click of the latch.Jake.I didn't turn, I simply listened to his footsteps measured and careful as they stopped a few feet away."Sir," he said quietly. "Do you need me to do something for you?"I shook my head, the movement barely perceptible. I adjusted my stance, leaning my shoulder against the cool glass.The city sprawled below indifferent and endless.Coming here for a woman who ran because I co

It was really him.I snatched the glass from the bartender-Black Russian, dark as sin-and threw it back in one go.Damn! That burn .The burn hit my throat like a cut. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, eyes locked on Mateo. Tears kept coming, hot and stupid, sliding down my cheeks while I stood there swaying. My fingers curled into fists so tight my nails bit skin. Shame crawled up my spine-shame for crying in front of him, shame for wanting him, shame for every time I'd let Lukas hold me while I pictured this exact face. I stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell his cologne; wood, smoke, something expensive and wrong. "You really stalked me here?" My voice cracked. "You tracked me like some fucking psycho?" He didn't flinch. Just watched me, eyes steady, jaw tight. I couldn't even tell what he was thinking.I shoved a finger into his chest. "You're obsessed. You're fucking stupid. And I hate-" My breath hitched. "I can't even hate you." Mateo stayed still. No smi

I dressed like someone on autopilot. Navy scrub pants that had seen better days, plain white tee underneath, the same faded grey hoodie from yesterday pulled over everything. Hair in a low, messy ponytail that didn't even pretend to be neat. No makeup. No jewelry. Just sneakers and the small crossbody bag slung across my chest like armor. The bus ride was quiet inside my head. No racing thoughts. No replaying last night, or yesterday's hospital hallway, or Mateo's voice. I just stared out the window at grey buildings sliding past, let the engine rumble up through my bones, and breathed. Worrying wouldn't change the mess. It never had.When I stepped off at the hospital stop, the cold air slapped my cheeks awake. I walked through the staff entrance, badge swipe, nod at the security guard who never smiled. Straight to the locker room.Dew was already there-leaning against the lockers in his bright teal scrubs, scrolling his phone, one foot tapping like he was waiting for the world to c

[TWO WEEKS LATER]Two weeks passed like fog. No one at the hospital breathed Lukas's name. Not once. The records we'd worked so hard to scrub stayed clean, every trace of him carefully wiped from the system. The empty chair in the conference room had been swapped out for a new one; it blended right in, and nobody so much as glanced twice at where the old one used to sit. When anyone asked about the Berger heir, all they got was a vague shrug and "something with the family business." The fear that had been coiled tight in my chest for months finally loosened its grip. I wasn't just getting by anymore-I was okay. Moving forward didn't feel like a distant dream. It was possible. Hard? Sure, but within reach.Saturday morning hit me like a brick wall. My head felt stuffed with cotton wool, mouth dry as dust from the too-many cocktails Olga and I had knocked back the night before. We'd started at her place with lime margaritas, then moved on to tequila shots when we got onto the topic of