All Chapters of Tempted by my Godlike boss: Chapter 151 - Chapter 160

FLORIAN’S POVThe flight felt like it lasted forever, though in reality it was only a few hours. I barely slept the entire way, my mind racing steadily between guilt, fear, and a desperate, aching need to finally see Roseline again, to finally make things right between us.I landed late, well past midnight, and instead on waiting until morning, I drove straight from the airport, exhaustion forgotten entirely beneath the urgency pressing steadily through my chest. The streets were quiet, empty, the city asleep around me as I navigated the familiar roads home.By the time I pulled into the driveway, my hands were trembling slightly, nerves and exhaustion both tangled uncomfortably together now. The house stood dark and silent before me, no lights visible through any of the windows, and for a brief, panicked moment, I wondered if she was even here at all.I stepped out of the car quietly, my footsteps soft against the gravel as I made my way carefully toward the front door. I hesitated t

ROSELINE’S POVWe stood together for a long moment, Florian’s arms wrapped carefully around me, his hand still resting gently against my stomach. Part of me wanted to simply melt into him completely, to let the relief of finally having him home outweigh everything else. But another part of me, the part still raw from weeks of silence, held back.“I’m never leaving again,” he whispered softly against my hair. “I promise you, Roseline.”I pulled back slightly, enough to look up at him properly, exhaustion and lingering hurt both clear in my voice when I finally spoke. “Promises alone aren’t going to be enough this time, Florian.”He studied me carefully, understanding slowly settling over his features. “What do you need from me?” he asked quietly. “Tell me, and I’ll do it.”“I need to see it,” I said honestly. “Not just hear it. I need to watch you actually choose this, every single day, not just say the words once and disappear again the moment things get hard.”“Okay,” he said softly,

ROSELINE’S POVWe’d interviewed nearly a dozen chefs over the past two weeks, each one talented enough on paper, though none of them quite fit what we were looking for. Florian sat beside me at the small table in Denise’s trailer office, both of us tired from another long day of tastings that hadn’t gone anywhere.“Maybe we’re being too picky,” I said, rubbing my temples tiredly.“Maybe,” Florian said, though he didn’t sound convinced either. “Or maybe the right person just hasn’t walked through the door yet.”Our next appointment arrived a few minutes later, a young woman named Priya, her resume impressive though not nearly as experienced as some of the other candidates we’d seen. She carried a small cooler with her, setting it carefully on the table before taking a seat across from us.“Thank you for meeting with me,” she said, her voice steady despite clear nervousness. “I brought a few things for you to try, if that’s okay.”“Please,” Florian said, gesturing toward the cooler.She

ROSELINE’S POVThe article went up three days later, longer and more detailed than I expected, though gentle in exactly the way Claire had promised. Nina sent me the link first thing that morning, practically shouting through the phone before I’d even had the chance to read it myself.“Roseline, it’s everywhere,” she said, breathless with excitement. “People are sharing it like crazy.”I sat down slowly at the kitchen table, Florian leaning over my shoulder as I opened the article carefully on my laptop. The headline read simply: “Love, Loss, and a Restaurant Reborn: The Story Behind FH-Holdings’ Hidden Owner.”We read through it together quietly, Claire’s words capturing our story with a gentleness I hadn’t expected, the painful parts handled with care rather than sensationalism, the hopeful parts given just as much weight. She’d written beautifully about my mother, about her quiet bravery, about the sacrifice that had somehow, impossibly, tied our two families together across decade

ROSELINE’S POVWe drove straight from the courthouse to the cemetery, neither of us needing to discuss it beforehand. Florian simply turned the car in that direction once we’d left the crowd of reporters behind, and I understood immediately where we were headed.Now, as we approached, something felt different, lighter somehow, despite the familiar ache still present in my chest.“Hi, Dad,” I said softly, kneeling carefully beside the headstone, my fingers brushing gently against the cool, smooth granite.Florian stood quietly behind me, giving me space, though his presence remained steady, comforting, exactly as it had been through everything these past several months.“It’s over,” I whispered softly, tears already slipping unexpectedly down my cheeks now. “The trial, I mean. Adrian’s finally been convicted. Guilty, on every single charge.”I paused, taking a slow, steadying breath, emotion thick now in my throat as I continued speaking quietly to the quiet stillness surrounding us.“