All Chapters of Falling for My Best Friend's Dad: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Flora's POV The afternoon sun cast long, lazy shadows across the floor of the sitting room. I curled my legs up onto the plush sofa, a warm mug of chamomile tea resting between my hands. After the absolute emotional hurricane of the past twenty-four hours, the quietness of the house felt like a physical blanket. Today was the very last day of my sick leave. Tomorrow morning, I would be putting on my corporate attire, stepping back into the sleek, glass-and-steel offices of Vance Financial, and resuming my role as an intern. But everything would be different now. The man sitting in the executive corner office was no longer just the intimidating, legendary Eugene Vance. He was the man who had held me in the dark, the man who had fiercely protected me, the man I loved. My hand unconsciously dropped down to my lower stomach, my fingers brushing gently against the soft fabric of my cotton shirt. *Our baby.* The thought made my heart swell with an overwhelming mixture of intense joy an

Eugene's POV I walked into my master bedroom, the heavy double doors shutting out the suffocating silence of the corridor. I didn't turn on the lights. Instead, I stripped off my casual grey shirt, throwing it toward the armchair, and paced the length of the dark room. My mind was working at lightning speed, shifting into the cold, calculated state I used to dismantle failing corporate boards. I needed a strategy. Last night had been a tactical disaster, but I was not a man who allowed disasters to dictate his life. I was Eugene Vance. I controlled my outcomes. First thing in the morning, I would execute a plan. I would give Emily a few hours to vent her initial shock, then I would sit her down and lay out the reality of the situation with absolute clarity. She would see that my feelings for Flora were permanent, not a passing whim. Then, I would reinforce the security around Flora, ensuring she felt completely anchored in this house despite Emily's anger. I just needed the sun to

Flora's POV The walls of Sophia’s guest room were a pale, muted cream, but I couldn't bring myself to look at them. I lay curled in a tight ball on the center of the bed, the heavy duvet pulled all the way up to my chin, shaking violently as the silent, delayed shock of the morning finally tore through me. My phone was off, sitting like a dead piece of plastic on the nightstand. I had fled the estate in the gray, suffocating hours before dawn, slipping past the gates with a single suitcase and a heart that felt entirely shattered into pieces. I hadn't known where else to go. When I had called Sophia from a taxi, my voice so choked with heavy, breathless sobs that I could barely articulate her name, she hadn't asked a single question. She had just given me her address and told me the door was unlocked. "Hey," Sophia whispered softly, pushing the door open wider. She stepped into the dim room carrying a steaming mug of tea and a small plate of toast, setting them gently on the beds

Eugene's POV The glow of three separate computer monitors cast a sharp, sterile light across the expanse of my desk. Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, the city moved in its usual, chaotic rhythm, but inside my office, the atmosphere was deadpan and entirely frozen. I adjusted the cuffs of my dark suit jacket, my eyes scanning the corporate spreadsheets, but the numbers were nothing more than meaningless ink. It had been one month. Thirty days. Seven hundred and twenty hours. For four weeks, I had gone through the motions of a life I thought I had outgrown. I woke up at dawn. I ran the firm with a ruthless, icy efficiency that had my vice presidents walking on eggshells. I ate the meals my housekeeper prepared. I sat across from Emily at the dinner table in the evenings, intentionally building back the bridge that had almost collapsed between us. I did exactly what Flora had asked of me in that godforsaken note—I healed my relationship with my daughter. But I was a shel

Eugene's POV The heavy wrought-iron gates of the estate swung open, welcoming us back into the long, winding driveway. As the sedan purred to a halt in front of the grand entrance, my right hand was still locked entirely around Flora’s smaller fingers, my grip firm and completely unyielding. I hadn't let her go since we walked out of Sophia’s apartment, and I had no intention of doing so anytime soon. I got out and rounded the car, opening her door and offering my hand. She looked up at the massive stone facade of the house, a small, nervous breath escaping her lips. "Eugene," she whispered, her eyes wide. "Are you sure she's ready?" "She is ready," I said deadpan, my voice a deep, reassuring rumble. "And even if she weren't, you are my woman, Flora. This is your home." The massive double doors opened before we could even reach the top step. Emily stood in the threshold. The guarded, icy demeanor she had worn for the past month was entirely gone, replaced by an expression of raw