جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 40

*Alex’s POV*The house gleamed like perfection—every line, every reflection in the glass whispering wealth, order, control. But the moment I stepped through the door, something shifted under my skin. The stillness pressed in too neatly, like a room staged for a photograph after everyone had already left. “Evelyn?” My voice carried down the hallway, brushing against polished walls and coming back to me untouched. No answer. I dropped my keys on the console. The metallic sound rang louder than it should have, stretching into the quiet. The faint trace of her perfume lingered in the air—jasmine layered with something sharper, cleaner. I followed it without thinking, my steps slowing as I reached the bedroom. She stood by the mirror, fastening a diamond earring with careful precision. The black silk dress clung to her frame like it had been designed for this exact moment. Everything about her was composed, deliberate. Untouched. “You’re home,” she said, eyes fixed on her refle

*Alex’s POV*The house was quiet. Not the kind of quiet that settled gently after laughter, soft and earned. This pressed in from every corner, sat heavy on my chest, and made the air feel thinner with every breath I took. I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, my arm stretched across the other half of the bed where Evelyn should have been. The sheets were cool. Her perfume had faded into something faint, almost imagined. Her pillow still held a trace of her hair, but even that was slipping, like the room was slowly forgetting her. I turned onto my side and checked the time. 1:47 a.m. Still nothing. My phone lay face up on the nightstand, silent. I’d stopped reaching for it hours ago, but my eyes kept drifting back anyway, pulled by something stubborn and quiet. Waiting, even when she told me not to. I let out a slow breath, the sound rougher than I intended. “God, Evelyn…” The words barely made it out of my throat before they dissolved into the dark. Through the half-open wi

*Bella’s POV*I knelt on the floor, tugging a tiny sock over Caleb’s stubby little foot. He squirmed against me, determined in that way one-year-olds always were, all stubborn limbs and offended little noises.Noah wiggled beside him, trying to swipe the oatmeal spoon I held like it was a precious treasure. Lily and Evie crawled after each other across the rug, squealing, their tiny hands sticky with breakfast remnants.“Caleb! Sock. Foot. Please?” I said, pressing gently against his ankle.He glared at me with shocking betrayal. “No! Hat… hair!”I blinked at him, bewildered. “Hat? Hair? Where did that come from?”Behind me, Clara leaned against the doorframe, holding her coffee like some beacon of calm in the middle of disaster.“You look like you’re surviving. Barely.” Her mouth curved. “Want me to grab a fire extinguisher?”A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Might need one.”I glanced around the apartment at the four little whirlwinds spinning through my living room, and e

*Alex’s POV*I walked through the wide hallway of King Enterprises with measured steps, shoulders squared, expression blank enough to pass for calm. But my presence still stirred something uneasy wherever I went.Conversations died the moment I appeared.Papers shuffled too quickly.People suddenly found reasons to stare at computer screens.I noticed. Of course, I noticed.You don’t build an empire from nothing without learning how to read people. The tremor hides beneath a steady voice. The forced smile stretched a little too thin. The glance exchanged when they think you aren’t paying attention.Lately, though, I didn’t have the energy to call any of it out.Not when my own home had started feeling colder than the glass walls around me.I reached my office door. Lydia straightened so fast her pen slipped from her hand and clattered against the desk.“Good morning, sir,” she said brightly. My eyes flicked toward her. “Morning.”I opened the door, then paused with my hand still on t

*Alex's POV*The silence had its own heartbeat. Every night for a week, I felt it pulsing between us — in the clink of cutlery, the soft slam of a door, the way her perfume lingered longer than her presence ever did. We moved like ghosts inside the same house. I’d catch her in the kitchen and step aside before our shoulders brushed. She’d pass me in the hallway, eyes sliding through me like I was just another piece of furniture that used to matter. Once, we would’ve fought over this. Once, we would’ve said too much and regretted half of it. Now we just… didn’t. Saturday morning came heavy with sleepless residue. Evelyn was in the shower. I could hear the muted splash, the faint rise and fall of her humming something unfamiliar. I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to remember the last time I’d heard her sound like that. Her bag lay on the floor, half-zipped, careless in a way she used to hate. I told myself not to look. But then the smell reached. The expensive smell of a man’s c