Todos os capítulos de Owned By My Best Friend's Father: Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

LEAH POVI wake up way before the alarm, my heart pounding like it's trying to escape my chest. Ugh, why am I like this?The room's still pitch dark, but the clock's glowing 6:12 a.m. It's that dinner with Ethan tonight. My gut twists just thinking about it, all knotted up with excitement and this nagging dread that I'll screw it up somehow.I lie there, staring at that stupid crack in the ceiling I've been meaning to patch forever, replaying yesterday in my head. Nerves are going wild, they are giddy one second, then terrified the next. What if I say something lame? Or trip in those heels? Or, worst case, have lipstick smeared on my teeth all night? Screw it, no more pretending to sleep. I slip out of bed quietly so Mom doesn't wake up and shuffle to the kitchen for coffee.I crack open the closet door just to peek at the black dress again. It still looks like it belongs on someone cooler, someone who doesn't wobble like a baby deer in heels.My phone buzzes with a text from an unkno

LEAH POV Damien stands at the edge of our table like the whole restaurant belongs to him. His black coat stays buttoned, he keeps his hands deep in his pockets, his eyes fixed only on me. Ethan, the candles, the glittering city below—they might as well not exist.My heart is still pounding from when he appeared at the entrance. How does he even know I am here? Isn't he supposed to be away on a trip? I lean forward and whisper desperately. "What are you doing here? Damien, please. You have to go. Ethan will be back from the bathroom any second.”He does not move. He holds that calm, unreadable stare that always twists my stomach into knots. "Victor must have been right," he says quietly, "You do have a wealthy boyfriend now.”I stare at him stunned, unable to believe he actually said that to me "That is not what this is. He is just—”“Just what?" His voice stays low, but I can hear the anger underneath it. "The guy who buys you dresses? Sends you cars to come pick you up?Takes you on

Damien POVWatching her walk away feels like I've lost her forever. I want to chase her…. bring her back and show her that I never meant anything I said but I fear it's too late for that now.She disappears into the shadows of the street, heels clicking fainter and fainter until the night swallows them completely. I stand there, frozen, The anger that drove me here is gone now it's replaced by this hollow, aching void that spreads through my chest like poison. I said things I can never take back. Called her things no one should ever hear, least of all from me. The man who's spent years protecting her, claiming her in the dark, making her feel safe when the world wasn't. And in one stupid, jealous moment, I made her feel like trash.I get back in the car, slam the door, and grip the wheel until my knuckles ache. How did it come to this? How did I let it get to this?It started last night. I was supposed to be packing for the trip; a business meeting; it was meant to be a quick run ba

Leah POVI walk away and refuse to glance back even once.Those heels start killing me after maybe four or five steps. I duck under the nearest streetlamp, crouch a little, and rip them off. The straps have carved angry red lines across the tops of my feet. I dangle the shoes from my fingers and keep going barefoot. The sidewalk grit sticks to my soles, cold and rough, though honestly I hardly notice.I try to go to the bus stop. I start walking toward it, arms crossed tightly over my chest, head down. Cars creep by slower than usual. I catch people turning their heads, their windows reflecting my mess at me—silk dress, no shoes, black streaks running down my face like I’ve been crying for hours. Which I guess I have, just not out here. The fabric that felt so right earlier now sticks to me wrong, too clingy, too revealing in the chilly breeze. Every little gust makes me pull my arms in tighter.The bus shelter light is still a ways off. I picture myself standing there under that har

Ethan is already there when I arrive. He sits at an outdoor table with two iced coffees waiting. He stands when he sees me and that easy smile spreads across his face.“Hey,” he says softly.“Hey.” I stop a foot away, suddenly shy. “I’m really sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have bailed like that. I got overwhelmed and just ran. I should’ve stayed. Or at least texted. I’m sorry.”He shakes his head. “You don’t have to apologize. I was worried, yeah, but I figured there was a reason why you got in the car with him. I’m just glad you’re here now.”"We sit. The iced café con leche is perfect—sweet, strong, and cold, just the way they make it around here.” . We talk lightly at first trying hard not to address the elephant in the room, the diner, His latest freelance gig. The way the maduros here are better than anywhere else in Little Havana is soft, caramelized, and practically melting on the tongue.Then he looks at me with a gentle but curious expression. “So Last night… Damien.”