Semua Bab I Was Hired To Seduce My Boss : Bab 121 - Bab 130

ZoeThe letter arrived on a Tuesday, tucked between the electricity bill and a catalogue I had not ordered. It was addressed to me in handwriting I did not recognize the ink, a deep, deliberate black, the paper thick and expensive. I turned it over in my hands, searching for a return address, finding none.I opened it at the kitchen counter, my coffee going cold beside me.Zoe,My name is Margaret. I was your grandmother's closest friend. I have something that belongs to you. Something she asked me to keep safe until the time was right.I live at 14 Rosewood Lane. Come alone. Come soon. I am not well.MargaretI read the letter twice, my hands trembling. I had never heard of Margaret. My grandmother had never mentioned her. But the letter felt real, the paper, the handwriting, the sense of urgency that seemed to press through the ink.I folded the letter and tucked it into my pocket.The drive to Rosewood Lane took an hour, the roads winding through the countryside I had never seen. T

LiamThe woman standing in the doorway was not what I expected.She was thin, her body worn down to the bone, her grey hair pulled back in a hasty knot, strands escaping around her face. Her eyes were the same shade as Zoe's, that particular grey that reminded me of winter skies and cold water. She looked at Zoe like a woman who had been drowning and had finally seen the shore."I am sorry," Helena said again. Her voice was rough, scraped raw by years of disuse or grief or both. "I am so sorry."Zoe had not moved from the path. She stood with her back to me, her shoulders rigid, her hands clenched at her sides. I could see the tension in her spine, the way she was holding herself together by sheer force of will."You gave me up," Zoe said. Her voice was flat. I'm not angry. Not sad. Just flat. "You gave me away, and you never came back."Helena flinched. The movement was small, barely visible, but I saw it. I saw the way her hands trembled, the way she gripped the doorframe for suppor

Liam The hardware store smelled of sawdust and oil, a combination that reminded me of my father's workshop. I walked the aisles with a basket in my hand, gathering items I never imagined I would need. Steel bars. Heavy-duty locks. A security system that costs more than most people's monthly rent. The clerk behind the counter raised an eyebrow when I set everything down. "Expecting trouble?" I did not answer. I simply paid and carried the bags to the car. The drive back to the lake house was long, the roads winding through the countryside that had become familiar over the past months. I passed the turnoff to the old mill, the one where I had built the table. I passed the field where Lily had caught her first butterfly. I passed the spot where Zoe had told me she was pregnant with our third child. Every landmark held a memory. Every memory held a promise. I pressed the accelerator and focused on the road ahead. Zoe was on the porch when I arrived, her grey eyes fixed on the horiz

Liam The porch light was still on when I pulled into the driveway, its yellow glow cutting through the darkness like a warning. I had been in town, meeting with the lawyers, and finalizing the details of Eleanor's testimony. I had expected to come home to a quiet house, to sleeping children and a wife who would wrap her arms around me and tell me everything was going to be okay. Instead, I found Eleanor on the porch steps, her face buried in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. I killed the engine and crossed to her in three strides. "What happened?" She looked up, her grey eyes red-rimmed, her face pale. "Zoe. She found the photographs. She knows about Arthur." I felt the ground shift beneath my feet. "Where is she?" "I do not know. She walked out. Hours ago. I have not heard from her." I pulled out my phone and dialled Zoe's number. It rang once, twice, three times, then went to voicemail. I tried again. Same result. "Stay here," I said to Eleanor. "Watch the c

Eleanor The porch was cold, the wind carrying the scent of rain and pine, and I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders as I waited for Zoe to speak. She stood in front of me, her grey eyes fixed on mine, her hands clenched at her sides. Liam was behind her, a silent presence, his dark eyes watchful. She had asked me to tell her about Arthur. I had been dreading this moment for twenty-six years. "His name was Arthur Cole," I said, my voice steady despite the trembling in my hands. "He was Liam's uncle. Your father's brother." Zoe's brow furrowed. "Liam's uncle?" I nodded, a slow, deliberate movement. "Arthur and David were brothers. They grew up together, worked together, fought together. When David married your grandmother, Arthur was his best man." I paused, the memories rising like ghosts. "Arthur was a good man. Kind. Gentle. He had a laugh that could fill a room. And he loved your mother more than anything in the world." "My mother," Zoe repeated. "Helena." "Ye