All Chapters of Bound to my Ex husband’s uncle: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

I follow the assistant down the hallway. My pulse is still elevated from the argument with Ethan.Every time I think about his threat, my blood pressure rises all over again.She’s scared.The words echo in my head.I almost laugh.The mistress is scared.How tragic.Maybe she should have considered that before sleeping with a married man.The assistant stops in front of a large office, she knocks twice and a deep voice answers.“Come in.”The voice sounds vaguely familiar but before I can place it, the assistant opens the door.“Miss Hart is here.”“Thank you.”She steps aside, gesturing for me to enter.I walk inside to see the office is enormous with floor-to-ceiling windows, dark wood furniture, a massive desk.The kind of office that screams power.The assistant quietly closes the door behind me, the sound echoing through the room.I turn toward the desk and freeze my brain completely stops working for a moment. No.Absolutely not, there’s no freaking way.The man sitting behin

The conversation with Dante lingers in my mind long after I leave his office. I walk down the hallway in a daze, barely noticing the employees moving around me. My feet carry me automatically toward the elevators while my brain stubbornly remains three floors up.You're talented, such simple words. Ridiculously simple and yet they refuse to leave me alone.I step into the elevator and lean against the mirrored wall as the doors slide shut. The woman staring back at me looks exhausted, ther are faint shadows beneath my eyes.My hair is slightly messy from running my hands through it all day.I look nothing like the woman who once stood confidently in lecture halls presenting research papers to rooms filled with world-renowned scientists.I look like a woman whose life has imploded, the elevator doors open with a soft chime and I walk through the lobby slowly, my heels clicking against the polished marble floor.My anger toward Ethan hasn't disappeared, not even close. It still sits i

The ride to the hospital passes in complete silence. I stare out the window the entire time, watching the city lights blur together. Ethan doesn't attempt to start another conversation, and I'm grateful for it. After everything that was said in the car, I don't think I have the energy for another fight. The moment we pull into the hospital parking lot, the tension between us temporarily fades. Not because anything has been resolved it hasn't. But because my father is inside this building. And nothing…..not my anger, not Ethan's betrayal, not our crumbling marriage…..is more important than him. We walk into the hospital side by side. It feels strange, painfully strange. The polished floors gleam beneath the fluorescent lights. Nurses move briskly through the corridors while the familiar scent of antiseptic fills the air. I've spent so much time here over the past three years that the place feels almost like a second home. A home I never wanted, I know every hallway, every ele

By the time I get to Claire’s apartment, I feel like I’ve lived through an entire year in a single day. My body is exhausted, my mind is exhausted even breathing feels exhausting. I stand outside for a few seconds, staring blankly at the familiar wood. I don’t immediately knock. Because the moment I do, I’ll have to say everything out loud and somehow, saying things out loud always makes them more real. I close my eyes briefly before finally raising my hand and knocking. The door flies open almost immediately. Claire stands there wearing oversized pajamas and fuzzy socks, her dark hair piled messily on top of her head. The second she sees me, her expression changes. “Jesus Christ, Amelia.” She grabs my arm and pulls me inside. “You look terrible.” “Thanks.” “I’m serious.” She closes the door behind me and turns to face me fully. “You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.” I let out a tired laugh. “Honestly, that might’ve been less painful.” Claire’s ey

The rest of the workday passes in a blur, I make mistakes, Simple mistakes. The kind I never make, I mislabel samples, enter the wrong figures into a report. Twice, I catch myself staring blankly at my computer screen for several minutes without actually seeing anything. Thankfully, nobody says anything Or maybe they do and I simply don’t hear them. My mind is somewhere else. Somewhere between my father’s hospital room and the house I’m about to return to. Home. The word no longer feels right. At five-thirty, I finally shut down my computer. Most of the office has already emptied out, I gather my things slowly, delaying the inevitable. Eventually, I can’t put it off any longer. Taking a deep breath, I leave the building to find Ethan is already waiting. He’s leaning against his black Mercedes in the parking lot, dressed in a charcoal suit. The moment he sees me, he straightens. For a brief second, something flashes across his face. Relief. It vanishes almost im