All Chapters of Sweetest Revenge : falling for my ex's father : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Chapter 52 : Her Father Speaks(Zara POV)The auction closes on a high note, the kind that leaves the room buzzing without anyone needing to say it out loud. Conversations loosen, laughter comes easier, glasses are refilled, and people begin to move in that subtle, practiced way that signals the formal part of the evening is over. From where I stand near the side of the room, I can see everything settling into its next phase, and I shift with it automatically, giving quiet instructions to the team, making sure the transition flows exactly the way I planned it.I barely have a second to breathe before I feel him beside me.My father doesn’t call my name immediately. He just stands there long enough for me to notice him, which I do. When I turn, his expression is controlled in that familiar way, the one he uses when he has already decided how a conversation should go before it even starts.“Zara,” he says finally, his voice low enough not to draw attention.“Dad,” I reply, just as even

Chapter 54 : After The Gala (Dominic POV) The drive back is quiet in a way that feels earned rather than empty. Zara doesn’t say much once we leave the venue. The long night has drained her, not in a dramatic collapse, but in that deep, quiet fatigue that comes after holding everything together for hours. I can see it in the way she leans her head against the seat, eyes half-closed, still aware but no longer fighting to stay sharp. I ask if she wants to stop somewhere. She insists she’s fine, voice soft and tired. I don’t push at first, but when I notice her swallowing back another heavy breath, I pull over anyway and get something light for both of us. She picks at it more than she eats, but she does eat, and that’s enough for me. By the time we’re back on the road, the silence between us feels comfortable. A few minutes later, her breathing evens out. She’s asleep. It happens so gently I almo

Chapter 56 — Dominic Tells Ryan(Dominic POV)I chose the place because it didn’t belong to either of us.Neutral ground. A restaurant Ryan liked enough to be comfortable in, but not enough to associate with anything important. Midday crowd, steady noise, people pretending their lives were ordinary. That was the point. Nothing about this needed an audience, and nothing about it needed ceremony.Ryan arrived thinking this was about Claire.He always assumes the most recent problem is the only problem.He sat down, jacket still on, scrolling his phone for a second before placing it on the table. He looked relaxed in a way that meant he was not prepared for anything difficult. I let that sit for a moment longer than necessary.“Marcus said the company issue was handled,” he said. “So I assumed this was about that.”“It isn’t,” I said.That was the first real break in his attention. He looked up properly th

Chapter 58 — The Photograph(Dominic POV)Zara sends the photograph without commentary.No message layered with reaction. No attempt to frame what I should see when I open it. Just the image itself, followed by a second message a minute later.Sent it to Marcus too.I look at it for longer than I should need.Not because I don’t understand what it is, but because I want to understand how it was taken. Angle, distance, timing. The moment itself is clear—I remember it without effort. Leaving the gala, the room still loud behind us, her attention half on the exit, half on the event she had just finished managing. My hand at her back, not for display, not for effect. Just there.But the photograph turns it into something else.Something composed.Someone was waiting for that moment.I don’t call her first.I call Marcus.He answers immediately.“I have it,” he says before

Chapter 60 — The Engagement Party Eve(Dominic POV)The evening before the engagement party settles into something unexpectedly quiet.Not empty, not strained—just steady in a way that has become familiar without either of us deliberately naming it. Zara is already in the kitchen when I come in, moving through the space with an ease that still feels new in a place like this. There is nothing performative about it. No attempt to turn the moment into something softer or more significant than it is. She is simply there, finishing dinner, as though this has always been part of her life.I take my jacket off and set it aside, watching her for a moment longer than necessary. She notices, of course.“You’re staring,” she says without looking up.“I’m observing,” I reply.“That’s worse.”There is no argument in it, just a quiet exchange that settles easily between us. We eat without interruption, no calls brea