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Home / Romance / Seven Minutes with my Ex's Uncle / Chapter 131 - Chapter 137

All Chapters of Seven Minutes with my Ex's Uncle : Chapter 131 - Chapter 137

137 Chapters

Underestimate

The penthouse felt heavier than usual that evening, as if the very air had thickened with unspoken fears and the weight of accusations. The massive floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the glittering city below, but tonight the lights seemed colder, more distant, like stars that refused to offer any warmth. The television droned on in the background, its volume low but insistent. News anchors with perfectly styled hair and grave expressions still dissected every detail of Serena's death, their voices blending into a relentless hum of speculation. "Possible connections to powerful figures," one reporter said. "A former employee with ties to Elias Thorne's empire." Another chimed in, "Sources close to the investigation suggest foul play and a potential cover-up."Layla sat curled on the oversized leather couch, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees as if trying to hold herself together. Her eyes were red-rimmed from exhaustion and worry. Across from her, Chloe ha

Case Over

The following day turned into an all-out war. The penthouse transformed into a command center. Lawyers in crisp suits filled the conference rooms, their voices overlapping in heated strategy sessions. Private investigators reported in hourly via secure video calls. Digital forensic teams worked in shifts in a makeshift tech room, their screens glowing with code and data streams. Former prosecutors, hired at exorbitant rates, pored over every legal angle. Security consultants reviewed protocols and recommended immediate changes.Layla had never seen power operate on this scale. It was terrifying and awe-inspiring. Phones rang constantly. Marcus barked orders like someone with military precision. Elias moved through it all like a general directing his troops-calm, decisive, unrelenting.By evening, cracks were already forming in the public narrative. News channels began reporting "inconsistencies in the evidence." Experts appeared on panels challenging the anonymous tips. Journalists s

Back to Normal

The penthouse basked in a rare, fragile peace that Monday morning. Sunlight streamed through the towering floor-to-ceiling windows, painting the marble floors and sleek modern furniture in warm golden hues. After weeks of unrelenting chaos—hospital vigils, funerals, media storms, and the shadow of murder accusations—it felt almost surreal to wake up to ordinary silence. No frantic calls in the middle of the night,no urgent knocks at the door,no headlines screaming Elias Thorne’s name in connection with death and scandal. Just the soft hum of the city far below and the distant clink of dishes from the kitchen. Layla stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, carefully adjusting the collar of her crisp white blouse. She smoothed down the fabric of her navy skirt and stared at her reflection. Physically, she looked the same—same long hair falling in soft waves, same determined eyes but something had shifted behind them. Grief had carved permanent lines into her spirit.

I love you

Layla sighed but stood up with a small smile playing on her lips as she followed him upstairs. The master suite was a sanctuary of quiet luxury. Sunlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long, elegant shadows across the king-sized bed and plush rugs. The city sprawled below like a glittering promise. Layla closed the bedroom door behind her with a soft click.“What is it?” she asked, though she already suspected.Elias was standing near the bathroom doorway, his tall frame silhouetted by the light. He turned toward her slowly. For a long moment, he simply studied her face—the faint shadows beneath her eyes that had begun to fade, the way her smile came a little easier now, the subtle strength returning to her posture but he was still worried. “Are you sure you’re ready to go back today?” His voice was calm, low, and laced with genuine concern.Layla blinked, stepping closer. “What? School?”“Yes. School.” He closed the distance between them with measured steps.

Different view

Twenty minutes later, Layla and Chloe were heading toward the elevator, the warmth of that upstairs moment still lingering on Layla’s skin like a secret. Nadia remained at the penthouse to continue her recovery, with Maria practically forbidding her from leaving. Marcus waited downstairs beside one of the sleek black luxury SUVs, his posture calm and intimidating as always.Chloe immediately straightened her posture, flashing a bright smile. “Good morning, Marcus.”“Good morning,Miss Chloe,” he replied politely, opening the rear door with professional efficiency. Chloe looked personally offended by his restraint. “One of these days I’ll crack that professional shell,” she muttered to Layla as they climbed in.Layla nearly laughed. “Good luck with that.”The SUV pulled smoothly away from the penthouse. For the first time in weeks, they were truly going back to college. The campus looked exactly the same—sun-dappled paths, students hurrying between buildings, groups gathered beneath

Finals

Layla covered her face immediately. She couldn't just imagine Chloe being like that."No."Marcus answered,looking completely unfazed.Chloe brightened instantly."Oh.""Do you want one?"Layla groaned."Chloe.""What?"Marcus answered before Layla could apologize."I don't have time.""Oh."“But what if the right person showed up?"Marcus looked genuinely thoughtful.Then—"I'd still be busy."Layla burst out laughing. She couldn't help it. Marcus remained completely serious which somehow made it funnier.Chloe looked offended."You reject people professionally, don't you?""I've been told that before.""Wow."Marcus nodded."Thank you.""That wasn't a compliment.""I know."Layla laughed harder. She laughed so much that tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.Chloe pointed dramatically at Marcus."See? Even Layla agrees you're impossible."Marcus kept his eyes on the road."I wasn't trying to be possible.""Oh my God," Chloe groaned. "You really talk like that."Marcus didn't answ

Harder

Layla couldn’t help it—she burst out laughing, closing the book and setting it aside. “You’re impossible. Come here.”She turned toward him fully, and he didn’t waste a second. He pulled her into his lap, his hands settling on her hips beneath the oversized hoodie. Their conversation faded into softer words as he kissed her properly this time—slow, deep, and full of pent-up longing. Layla melted against him, her fingers threading through his damp hair as she kissed him back with equal passion.“You’ve been working too hard,” she whispered against his lips between kisses. “I worry about you too, you know.”“I’m fine as long as you’re here when I come home.” His hands slipped under the hoodie, tracing the smooth skin of her back. “This—coming back to you—is what keeps me going.”Their kisses grew heated, tongues tangling as desire built. Layla tugged at his shirt, and he helped her pull it off, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest. She ran her hands over his skin, feeling the warm

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