All Chapters of I KISSED MY EX'S BILLIONAIRE UNCLE: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

VIKTORThe panic in her eyes was exquisite, which told me exactly where her mind had traveled. She was thinking of the very first time we met outside the ancestral home, the first time we touched at the penthouse, the heat, the way she had looked at me with a vulnerability that ‘Lella’ was never supposed to possess. "T-T-That night…” I smiled as she stammered. I touched her chin, my fingers tracing the line of her jaw and feeling the slight tremor in her skin. I let my thumb brush over the bruise on her cheek, my expression softening even as a dark satisfaction curled in my chest.​"You played the part well, Lorelei," I murmured. "I knew you as Lella, the brilliant and stubborn woman who was unfortunately tangled with my idiot nephew. But after that kiss..." ​I trailed off as my gaze dropped to her lips. "No other woman kisses me like that. No other woman has that much fire. You were a puzzle I became obsessed with solving."I swallowed and her eyes followed the movement of my adam

LELLAI felt the heat fill my entire system as I pushed up with all the strength left in me and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door closed. I paced inside the bathroom as my head was spinning from all of this.He's crazy! He's crazy! He's freaking crazy!!I haven't even recovered from his revelation that he knew me from the very beginning and that his memory has returned and now revealed what happened last night, making it impossible for me to swallow my embarrassment. I stopped when I remembered the heat of Viktor’s body beneath mine felt like a wildfire. For a second, I was paralyzed by the way his hands anchored me against him, the dark and possessive look in his eyes that promised he wasn't joking about the bed.F*ck! ​My heart was now trying to break out of my ribs!I leaned my forehead against the cool wood of the door, waiting for my pulse to slow, but the memory of his voice kept it racing so damn fast. ​I forced myself to turn around and face the mirror. ​I gasped at my

LELLA​"I’m not going," I coldly said as a bitter taste rose in my throat.My fingers curled into the silk of my robe and avoided Joaquin's gaze."Lorelei, don't be difficult. It's Papa's command and she wants us to be there.”​"For her? For my madrasta?" I laugh so hard that it echoes down the quiet hallway. "Why would I go for her? And stop calling her that, Joaquin. Stop calling her 'Mama.'"​"She’s been in our house for seven years–"​"I don't care if she’s been there for seventy!" I hissed as the anger I’d been suppressing all night finally boiled over. I stepped toward him, my eyes stinging with a sudden, hot grief that I usually kept locked behind iron doors. "Our Mama died on a wet highway in a mangled heap of metal. Our Mama is buried in a plot of land that smells like rain. That woman is just the person Papa hired to fill the empty side of his bed. She is not our mother, and I will not pretend for the sake of an Alvarez PR stunt!"​"Lorelei, keep your voice down," Joaquin wa

LELLAThe silence between us wasn't suffocating as we walked outside the columbarium along the winding stone paths. The only sound is the crunch of gravel beneath our shoes and the distant hum of the Mediterranean.​I didn't say a word, and for once, Viktor didn't demand one.​He just walked beside me as his pace perfectly matched mine. His hands were deep in his pockets and his gaze occasionally drifted to the horizon, giving me the space I needed while staying close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his arm.After Conrad and I broke up, I had convinced myself that I was better off alone. I had built a fortress around my heart, believing that independence was the only way to survive the world and the expectations of the Alvarez name. But as we strolled past the weeping willows and the blooming jasmine, a terrifying realization began to take root.​I didn't want to be alone anymore.​Having Viktor here, the man who had hunted me and now held my future in his hands, unex

LELLAThings happened so fast in a few minutes. The next thing I knew was their busy hands, pins, and the scent of expensive hairspray. I felt like a porcelain doll being assembled by experts.Was this a rehearsal for the media? A staged photoshoot to solidify the joint clan? Or was Viktor Volkonsky actually insane enough to bypass the planning required and simply take me here, in the quiet of a Tuesday afternoon?​Every time I tried to open my mouth to ask, the woman, who I realized was a top-tier stylist, would hush me to apply lipstick or adjust the intricate lace at my throat.​When they finally stepped back, the silence in the vestry was heavy with expectation as ​I turned toward the full-length mirror.A gasp escaped from me.I-I almost didn't recognize the woman looking back at me. The gown was a vintage masterpiece, with a high lace collar and a sweeping train that seemed to hold the light of the cathedral. My hair was swept up into a crown, and the makeup was subtle, just eno