Todos os capítulos de Accidentally Slept with My Ex-Boyfriend's Father: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Emily's POV"IF I LOOK AT YOU AGAIN, I'M GOING TO KILL YOU."Claire's scream echoed off the stone walls. Blood streamed from her nose, ran down her chin, dripped onto her dress stained red.She turned. Her high heels clicked on the terrace floor. Her dress flew behind her.Before disappearing into the hallway, she stopped.She didn't turn around. Just stood there, her back to me, her body trembling."Oh, Emily?" Her voice was cold. Distant. "Congratulations on the baby. I hope he looks like his father."She vanished.The silence that followed was worse than any scream.Nathalie stared at me. Her mouth open. Her eyes wide."Emily," she whispered. "What have you done?"I looked at my hand. My palm burned. My wrist throbbed."She said she was going to decide about my child," I answered. My voice sounded strange. Distant. As if it weren't mine.Five hours later, the fashion show started twenty minutes late.The runway lights went dark. The audience fell silent. A second of silence. Then t

Emily's POV"Arthur," Vivienne said. Her voice trembled for the first time. "How dare you embarrass me in front of everyone here? This whore ruined our main model's face and you're defending her?"Arthur didn't move. His dark eyes met Vivienne's blue ones."I don't believe Parker did this to that girl," he said.He pointed at Claire. His long, steady finger.Claire stepped back. Her swollen face twisted."But... I... I..." Her voice failed. Her green eyes widened. She looked at me. At Arthur. At Vivienne. At Marcus.That's when I saw it.Her look. The way her green eyes pierced through me. It wasn't the look of a victim. It was the look of someone being exposed.What if it was her? The thought came like lightning. What if she was the one who took the photos?The flash in the garden. The envelope under the door with the message.Did she know? Had she always known?"The fashion show will continue," Arthur announced. His voice echoed through the hall. "This setback will be resolved. But

Arthur's POVThe message.I had seen her face when her phone vibrated. The fear. The panic. Something had scared her, and she tried to hide it."Emily," I called. My voice came out lower than I wanted. "What happened?"She didn't answer right away. Her fingers played with her bag strap, rolling and unrolling the leather."Nothing," she said. "It's nothing.""You went pale. Your hand was shaking. It's not nothing."She sighed. Her shoulders fell."Nathalie sent a message," she said. Her eyes still fixed on the windshield. "She's worried. Everyone at the mansion is freaking out. Claire made up that story, and now... now everyone thinks I'm a violent lunatic."She lied.I knew she was lying. Not by what she said, but by how she said it. Her eyes didn't meet mine. Her fingers squeezed her bag too hard.But I didn't push.It wasn't the time. She would trust me when she was ready. Or she wouldn't. But pushing wouldn't help."Emily," I said. I turned my body on the seat to face her. "We can'

Emily's POV The mansion was silent when I returned.Not the calm silence of empty houses. It was a heavy, dense silence, as if the stone walls were holding their breath, waiting for the next blow.Nathalie was sitting on the bed. Her face swollen from crying. Her eyes red. Suitcases open on the floor."You took long enough," she said. Her voice came out hoarse."I know."She stood up. Hugged me.The hug was tight. Desperate. The kind of hug you give when you don't know if you'll see the person again."Thank you," I whispered against her shoulder. "For everything. For supporting me. For not judging me. For being here.""Don't thank me, you idiot," she answered, her voice breaking. "You're my best friend. I'd go to the end of the world with you.""That's where we're going," I said, trying to laugh. "Almost."Nathalie pulled back. Looked at my face. Her eyes traced my features as if she were memorizing every detail."Emily," she said, her voice more serious now. "What's really going on?

Arthur's POV "What are you doing in that wretched woman's room?" Vivienne's voice cut through the air like a blade. She stood in the doorway, her blue eyes icy, her face pale with anger. The simple black dress, no jewels, but her presence filled the doorframe as if she owned everything there. And, in a way, she did. But I didn't get up. Didn't look away. I just sat on Emily's bed, my hand still on the still-warm sheet, and let her see that I wasn't leaving until I was ready. This was my territory now, even if she thought otherwise. "I'm asking," she repeated, her voice louder now, impatient. "What are you doing here?" "Since when do I need to answer to you about where I step?" My voice came out low, but carried a coldness that made Vivienne hesitate for a second. "This house is mine. I go where I want, when I want." Vivienne walked into the room anyway. Her footsteps echoed on the wooden floor, each click a challenge. "Did you see the television?" she asked. Her voice trembled