Todos los capítulos de DADDY’S DIRTY SECRET: Capítulo 151 - Capítulo 160

Chapter 1: Mutual FriendsThe bar was loud, the kind of noisy that made you lean in closer just to hear someone. I nursed my beer at the long table our group had claimed near the back, half-listening to Mark ramble about his latest promotion while my eyes scanned the door. College buddies reuniting same old crew, just older, more tired, and with better salaries.Then he walked in.Tall, clean-cut guy in a crisp button-down that looked like it had never seen a wrinkle in its life. Dark hair, sharp jaw, the kind of face that probably got him whatever he wanted without much effort. Mark jumped up immediately.“Alex! Finally, man. Thought you were gonna bail on us again.”Alex smiled easy, genuine and did that quick bro-hug thing with Mark before dropping into the seat across from me. Our eyes met for a second.“Jace, right?” he said, extending a hand over the table. “Mark’s mentioned you a few times. The marketing guy who actually makes numbers sound fun.”I grinned and shook his hand.

Chapter 3: The Elevator IncidentIt was almost 8 PM and the building had mostly emptied out. I was running late for a last minute strategy meeting on the executive floor thirty-fifth floor because of course the client needed revisions at the worst possible time. I jabbed the elevator button harder than necessary, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up.The doors slid open and there was Alex, already inside, looking just as drained as I felt in his charcoal suit.“Heading up too?” I asked, stepping in beside him.“Yeah. Emergency damage-control meeting. You?” He gave me a tired smile as the doors closed.“Same bullshit, different department.” I leaned against the rail. “At this rate, I’m sleeping here tonight.”The elevator started its smooth climb. We were joking about how corporate life was just fancy slavery when it happened.A loud mechanical jolt. The car lurched, then stopped dead between floors. The lights flickered once… twice… then died completely, plunging us into pitch black.“Shi

Chapter 5: Group HangoutSaturday afternoon, the sun was warm and the backyard smelled like charcoal and beer. Mark had invited the whole crew to his place for a barbecue burgers on the grill, loud music, and way too many coolers. I showed up in shorts and a faded band tee, already planning to crush some cornhole.Alex arrived about thirty minutes later, carrying a six-pack and wearing a simple polo that somehow still looked sharp on him. Our eyes met across the yard. He gave me that easy nod and smile.“Bedhead in the wild,” he teased as he walked over, handing me a cold beer.“Perfect Tie on a weekend? I’m shocked,” I fired back, clinking bottles with him. “Didn’t think you owned anything without buttons.”We fell into the group easily. Burgers, wings, trash talk about sports. The afternoon slipped into evening, and as the sun went down, people moved inside for games. Someone pulled out Cards Against Humanity, then beer pong, then we switched to a chaotic round of charades.By midn

Chapter 7: Second Close CallTuesday morning started like any other rushing out the door with coffee in hand, already mentally rehearsing the presentation I had to give at 9:30. I made it to the Meridian Tower lobby just as the main elevator bank was filling up. I was scanning my phone when I heard a familiar voice.“Bedhead, you actually took the elevator today.”I looked up and grinned. Alex was standing there in a crisp light blue shirt and that signature perfect tie, laptop bag over one shoulder. He looked refreshed, like he’d actually slept after our late-night texting marathon.“Had to. My legs are still sore from last week’s stair punishment,” I said, stepping into the elevator beside him. We ended up near the back as more people crowded in. “How’s the quarterly report monster treating you?”“Slain, barely,” Alex replied with a tired laugh. “Thanks to your venting session the other night. Helped me power through. You nail that rebrand presentation?”“Still tweaking it. Clients

Denial Phase The next few days were a masterclass in avoidance. I took the stairs again. Changed my lunch routine. Responded to Alex’s texts with short, one-word replies or memes instead of the usual back-and-forth. After that almost-kiss at the bar after the way my body had leaned in like it knew something I didn’t I needed space. Real space. This was getting too weird, too fast. I was straight. He was straight. We’d both just had too much whiskey and too many vulnerable conversations. Simple as that. Alex seemed to be on the same page. Our elevator run-ins became polite nods and quick “how’s it going?” before one of us suddenly remembered an urgent call or meeting. The easy rhythm we’d built cracked under the weight of that charged moment. By Friday, I forced myself to do something normal. I texted a woman named Sophie I’d matched with weeks ago and set up a Saturday night date. Dinner and drinks. Classic. Safe. The date started okay. Sophie was pretty curly hair, bright laugh,