All Chapters of Fake Mates Till Forever: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

LEAH POV He suddenly looked at me, his eyes blazing with desire, and my whole body flushed.The rain was still falling, heavy and relentless, drumming against the roof of the car. We were alone, hidden from the world, and Santos was looking at me like I was the only thing that mattered.Then he lowered his head to kiss me.His phone rang.We both froze.Santos pulled back, furious. He reached for his phone and looked at the screen like it had personally offended him."It's Ethan," he muttered.He answered, putting the phone to his ear. His voice was clipped, professional, completely different from the man who had just been kissing me breathless."What?" His voice was sharp and cold.A pause.Then: "Now?"Another pause. His jaw clenched."I'm on my way."He hung up and looked at me. The desire was still there, burning in his eyes, but something else had taken over. Something like frustration. Something like regret."Something's happened," he said.I sat up, my body still trembling, my

LEAH POV It was midnight, and the moon ray spilled into the room through the silk curtains. I couldn't sleep.I had been rolling around in my bed for hours, my mind refusing to quiet, my body restless and aching. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Santos. The way he had looked at me in the car. The way his lips had felt against mine. The way his hands had gripped my hips like he was afraid I might disappear.The thoughts kept swirling around and around in my head until I couldn't take it anymore. Fuck. I threw off the covers, slipped on my robe, and padded downstairs to the kitchen. Maybe water would help. Maybe a walk around the house would tire me out. Maybe I would finally stop thinking about him for five minutes.The house was dark and silent, the only light coming from the moon streaming through the windows. The servants had long since gone to bed, and my family was asleep in their rooms. I was alone.Or so I thought.I pushed open the kitchen door and stopped dead in my tra

LEAH POV The world stopped.One moment, Bianca was standing in my doorway, asking to borrow a dress. The next moment, she was on the floor, blood dripping from her lip, sobbing like I had just attacked her.I stood there, frozen, my mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened. She had slapped herself. She had actually slapped herself. And now she was crying, loud and dramatic, her voice carrying through the house like a siren.“What’s going on here?”My mother’s voice cut through the chaos. She appeared in the hallway, her face pale with alarm, my father right behind her. My grandmother followed, slower, more deliberate, her sharp eyes taking in the scene.Bianca looked up at them, her face streaked with tears and blood.“She hit me,” Bianca sobbed, pointing at me. “I only asked if I could borrow a dress, and she hit me.”I opened my mouth. “That’s not—““She’s lying,” Bianca cried, her voice rising. “She’s always been jealous of me. She’s always hated me because I’m adop

LEAH POV I let my smile stay exactly where it was, warm and unbothered, and tilted my head just slightly.“Photos can be misleading,” I finally said, voice calm. “And I don’t believe in commenting on things I haven’t personally witnessed. I trust my fiancé. And I trust the strength of what we share.” I paused, letting the words settle. “The rest is noise.”The reporters exchanged glances. A few nodded, impressed. Someone in the crowd let out a small, appreciative ‘ooh.’ “One more question, Miss Moretti!” another reporter called out. “Your dress tonight is stunning. Can you tell us who designed it?”I let a soft laugh escape–light, genuine, almost private.“It was a gift,” I said simply. “From someone with excellent taste.”The reporters laughed, delighted by the answer. The flashes intensified.“Where is the lycan king tonight?”“He’ll be here. He’s a busy man.”“Are the rumors true? Is your engagement real?”“You’ll have to ask him yourself.”I gave them one final smile, nodded pol

LEAH POV Santos walked in the way he did everything— slowly, deliberately, with the unshakable confidence of a man who had never once questioned his place in a room. He was dressed in a black suit so perfectly tailored it looked painted onto him, the fabric catching the light in subtle ways that emphasized the breadth of his shoulders and the lean strength of his frame. His dark hair was swept back neatly. His jaw was sharp enough to cut glass. His eyes — those unmistakable, ancient eyes—swept the hall with the calm authority of a wolf who owned every inch of ground beneath his feet.Even the women who were already married or mated couldn’t help but stare.He was, simply, a walking sin!Beside me, Bianca actually made a small sound — something halfway between a whimper and a sigh. Her cheeks flushed pink. Her eyes glazed over slightly.Isabella, for her part, straightened her spine so hard I heard something click. Her red lips parted, her chest rose, and she immediately began smoothi