All Chapters of One Night With My Ex's Father: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The morning of the wedding the sky over Manhattan was the color of polished steel. Rain had fallen overnight and left the city washed clean. From the penthouse windows Central Park looked like a wet watercolor—greens and golds blurred under a thin mist. Lila stood in front of the full-length mirror while two silent attendants finished the final details. The dress was simple on purpose: ivory silk that skimmed her body and whispered when she moved, a soft cowl neckline, no train. Her hair was down in loose waves. The only jewelry was the diamond on her hand and the thin platinum chain Marcus had fastened around her neck that morning while kissing the back of her shoulder. She was twelve weeks pregnant. The doctor had confirmed it three days earlier. The baby was healthy. The timeline still sat in the room like a third person neither of them named out loud. Marcus had simply pressed his mouth to her stomach every night since and spoken to the child like it already knew his voice. Sara

The private elevator doors opened directly into the penthouse, and Vivienne Hale stepped out like she was walking into battle instead of her childhood home. Four years in Paris had changed her. The girl who once snuck champagne at her father’s galas was gone. In her place stood a woman with sharp cheekbones, stormy green eyes, and a mouth that looked made for sin. Her dark auburn hair fell in loose waves down her back, and the black silk slip dress she wore clung to every curve like a second skin. She dropped her suitcase with a deliberate thud. “Welcome home, Vivienne.” The low, velvet voice came from the shadows of the open-plan living room. Sebastian Vale stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city skyline, a glass of whiskey in his hand. Even in the dim light, he looked every inch the powerful predator he was—tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a tailored black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms. His dark hair was streaked wi

The day at Hale Tower had been a masterclass in torture. Sebastian had kept Vivienne at his side for most of it—reviewing contracts, sitting in on meetings, forcing her to shadow every decision. He introduced her as “Mr. Hale’s daughter, here to learn the business,” but the way his hand occasionally brushed the small of her back when no one was looking told a far more dangerous story. Every time she leaned over his desk to point at something on a document, she felt his eyes on her cleavage. Every time she crossed her legs in those sheer stockings, his jaw tightened. By the time they returned to the penthouse that evening, the air between them was thick enough to choke on. Vivienne kicked off her heels the moment the elevator doors opened. “I need a drink. And a long bath. Today was hell.” “You survived,” Sebastian said, shrugging off his suit jacket. His broad shoulders strained against the crisp white dress shirt. “Barely. That stunt in the boardroom—challenging the marketing

The days that followed blurred into a haze of stolen moments and razor-sharp tension. They couldn’t keep their hands off each other. At the office, it was pure torment. Sebastian would call Vivienne into his office for “briefings” that lasted far longer than necessary. The door stayed unlocked—dangerously so—adding a thrill that made everything hotter. On the third morning after their first night together, Vivienne found herself bent over his desk again, skirt rucked up around her waist, panties shoved to the side as Sebastian fucked her from behind with slow, deep rolls of his hips. “Quiet,” he hissed, one hand clamped over her mouth while the other gripped her hip. “The board members are in the conference room next door.” Vivienne moaned against his palm anyway, the sound muffled as his thick cock stretched her perfectly. Every thrust pushed her harder against the polished wood. Her breasts spilled out of her unbuttoned blouse, nipples dragging against cold papers with ever

The charity gala was a glittering trap. Hale Media had rented out the entire rooftop venue of the city’s most exclusive hotel. Crystal chandeliers, live jazz, and the city skyline sparkling below. Everyone who mattered in business and politics was there—including several board members who still viewed Vivienne as a liability. Sebastian had been clear: stay professional. Keep distance. But the moment Vivienne stepped into the room in a backless emerald green gown that clung to every curve and plunged dangerously low in front, his control began to fray. She looked like sin wrapped in silk. For the first hour, they played their roles perfectly. Sebastian worked the room like the powerful COO he was—shaking hands, making deals, his wife Eleanor on his arm for appearances. Vivienne circulated on her own, charming investors with sharp wit and bold ideas about modernizing the company. Then came Marcus Reed. A young, ambitious VP from a rival firm. Tall, charming, with an easy smil