Semua Bab Accidentally Slept with My Ex-Boyfriend's Father: Bab 61 - Bab 70

Emily's POVThe hotel room felt smaller now.The walls were closing in around me, the floor seemed to have grown colder beneath my bare feet.Marcus stood by the window, his back to me, a dark silhouette against the Tokyo skyline. The morning sun painted everything gold, but inside I felt only gray."You were different in college," I said, my voice low. "You seemed like someone else. Someone who cared. Someone who listened.""And now?" He didn't turn around."Now I don't recognize you."He turned. His blue eyes were calm, but there was a coldness in them that chilled my spine."People change, Emily.""People don't turn into monsters overnight."He took a step toward me. I stepped back. The bed hit the back of my knees."Monster?" He repeated the word as if tasting it. "Is that how you see me?""What do you want me to see? A man who kidnapped me? Who brought me to the other side of the world against my will?""I brought you here so we could give our love a chance.""There's no love her

Nathalie's POVThe taxi moved through the streets of New York as if the driver was also in a hurry to get somewhere. I couldn't see anything. Couldn't hear anything. I just felt the weight of guilt pressing on my chest like someone was sitting on top of me."We're almost there, ma'am," said the driver, a middle-aged man with a Middle Eastern accent, his eyes glancing at the rearview mirror every now and then."Thank you," I answered, my voice coming out weaker than I wanted.My phone vibrated in my lap. Sebastian. Again. The fourth call in twenty minutes.I answered."Nathalie, finally!" His voice was breathless, worried. "Where's Emily? I've tried calling her a million times. Her phone goes straight to voicemail. Sebastian is desperate, the whole studio is falling apart.""I don't know where she is, Sebastian," I lied. The lie tasted like bile in my mouth. "She disappeared…""Nathalie?""I don't know anything, Sebastian. Sorry. I have to go."I hung up.The phone fell on the seat nex

Emily's POV The pen was still in my hand. I stared at the paper without being able to think of anything, just feeling the cold sweat running down my back. I wanted to forget all of it and run away. Behind me, the photographers wouldn't stop taking pictures. The flashes exploded one after another, lighting up the small room every second. "You have no choice, love." Marcus's voice came low, close to my ear. He smiled at the cameras, but his teeth were clenched while his hand remained on my waist. The room was stuffy. I looked at the document again. Marcus's signature was there, in the space reserved for the groom. Marcus Alexander Sterling. The handwriting was slanted, large, taking up more space than it should. The pen had marked the paper so hard that the final stroke of the last letter had lightly torn the page. My name was missing. Emily Rose Parker. "Emily Rose Parker." The judge spoke loudly, snapping me out of my daze. He was an older man, with thick glasses and a br

Emily's POV The room was dark. It wasn't the darkness of night. It was something else. Something dense, heavy, clinging to the walls like something sticky. My feet didn't reach the floor. I was sitting on a wooden chair, the varnish worn, the smell of mold and old things. I was small. Very small. A man stood before me. I couldn't see his face. Just his broad shoulders, his large hands hanging by his sides, his wrinkled white shirt. The light came from behind him, creating a silhouette, hiding his eyes. My heart tightened. I should have been afraid, but I felt no fear. I felt an ancient sadness, as if I had known that man for a long time. "Emily." His voice was deep. Tired. "You look so much like your mother." My mother. The woman in the faded photograph on my grandmother's living room wall. The woman with the sad smile that no one wanted to mention. The woman who died when I was too young to remember her face without needing a photo. "Who are you?" My voice came out small

Vivienne's POVThe silence in the boardroom was absolute. Eleven men and two women stared at me as if I had just announced that I was going to set fire to the building. Mr. Bianchi's face had gone from red to purple. Mrs. Fontana's nails had stopped tapping. Even Peterson held his breath beside me."Signora Sterling," Mr. Bianchi finally said, his voice trembling with age and indignation, "with all due respect, you are not a member of this board. You have no voting rights. You have no legal standing to assume control of this company."I did not hesitate. I had expected this. I had prepared."I have shares, Mr. Bianchi. Twenty-three percent of this company belongs to me. My father's shares. My inheritance. The shares that Arthur cannot touch because they were never his.""Shares do not give you a seat at this table.""No. But they give me the power to call for a vote. And that is what I am doing."Mr. Bianchi opened his mouth to answer, but Mrs. Fontana raised her hand. The sharpness