All Chapters of Mommy, Please Forgive Daddy: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

CHAPTER 22: The Outside Looking In Chloe’s POV It was almost hilarious watching a man who used to control entire boardrooms degrade himself into a pathetic, desperate stalker. Creighton thought he was being smooth. He thought he could just show up in Seattle, throw his money around, and force a woman who clearly despised him back into his life. But watching him chase after Priscilla like an absolute maniac was like watching a slow-motion car crash, and honestly, a bitter part of me loved every single second of his humiliation. He threw me away for her. He stood in that restaurant, dismissed two years of my life like I was nothing, and for what? To run after an ex-wife who didn't even want his presence in the same zip code? He ignored every single warning sign. He ignored the restaurant scene, he ignored her warnings, and he kept pushing his luck until the legal system finally smacked him upside the head. The official cease and desist letters started piling up legal threats that fi

CHAPTER 24: Unspoken Distances Priscilla’s POV The interior of the sedan was heavy with silence as I sat with my back pressed hard against the leather seat, staring straight out the windshield at the sea of red taillights stretching down the highway. I had gotten into this car with a speech lined up in my head, a script to demand he stop the gifts, stop the subtle remarks, and back the hell off. But the words were stuck firmly in my throat. What was the point of laying down another boundary right now? Tonight’s dinner was the official capstone on our joint logistics contract. After the investors raised their glasses and the signed releases were logged, Creighton’s formal reason to step foot inside my company would vanish and this drive was practically the final hour of our forced partnership. A sudden cut-off was coming anyway—confronting him now just felt like handing him more ammo to drag out a conversation I was desperate to end. Then, softly, the car’s sound system shifted.

Chapter 26: Creighton’s POV The private gala ballroom was a blur of crystal chandeliers, clinking champagne flutes, and low, continuous chatter from high-net-worth investors. But I couldn't focus on a single metric. My eyes kept pulling back to the entrance. When Priscilla stepped into the main room, my breath hitched in my throat. She wasn't hiding. She wasn't cowering in a corner, washed out by the media circus outside. She moved across the marble floor with a quiet, devastating elegance in a tailored black floor-length gown, her head held high, a confident, unshakeable aura radiating off her like a shield. She looked stunning. Radiantly, effortlessly beautiful. And the worst part? That brilliant, absolute confidence was entirely built on her realization that she was finally done with me. Seeing her like that—knowing she felt completely freed from my grip—made my knees feel weak. I stumbled backward a half-step, my shoe catching on the hem of Chloe’s crimson dress. Chloe snapp

CHAPTER 28 Priscilla’s POV The quiet of the restroom was a brief, sanctuary-like reprieve. The silence here felt unnatural after the ballroom, as if the walls themselves had swallowed the sound whole and held it hostage. I leaned against the cold marble sink, taking slow, deliberate breaths while watching my reflection in the gilded mirror. My face looked calm enough at first glance, but the longer I stared, the more I could see the strain gathered at the corners of my mouth, the tension in my eyes, the tiny fracture lines running through the careful composure I had stitched together for the evening. The noise from the main hall—the clinking champagne glasses, the roaring toasts, the weight of Creighton’s presence—was still ringing in my ears. I turned on the faucet, running cool water over my wrists to ground myself before heading back out. The water was icy enough to sting, and for one small second, it helped. It gave me something simple to focus on, something concrete and harm

CHAPTER 30: Poison at the TablePriscilla’s POVThe quiet of our neighborhood should have brought me peace but instead, pulling into the driveway felt like steering my car into a stranger's yard. I sat in the driver's seat for a full minute after turning off the ignition, my hands still glued to the steering wheel, my heart heavy in my chest.When I finally unlocked the front door, the warm, familiar scent of lavender and cedar filled my senses. The living room was softly lit by the yellow glow of the corner lamp and on the dining table sat a clean, folded stack of laundry, and in the kitchen, I could hear the faint, steady hum of the kettle beginning to boil.This was my home…this was the safe haven Darius and I had built together piece by piece.So why did every single detail feel like an elaborate set on a stage?"Cilla?"Darius stepped out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a dishtowel. He was wearing his gray sweater—the one he always wore on late nights when he stayed up waitin