Livestreaming My cheating Hockey star fiancé のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 91 - チャプター 100

AllieMissy arrived at Chase’s house carrying a folded piece of paper inside a clear plastic sleeve.I noticed it before she said anything.She held it too carefully.Not like evidence.Not exactly.More like something fragile she did not trust herself to touch directly.Chase had already left for practice. I was working in the home office when the doorbell rang, though security called before allowing her through the gate.That had become normal now.Nobody entered without verification.Not family.Not Mia.Not delivery workers.The house remained comfortable, but the layers around it had multiplied. New cameras covered the outer road. Officers changed shifts throughout the day. Every unknown vehicle remained logged.Olivia was in custody.The anonymous account had stopped posting.Still, safety had not returned as quickly as the danger disappeared.I met Missy in the kitchen.“You look serious.”“I am serious.”“That sounds worrying.”“It might be.”She placed the plastic sleeve on t

Chase“Don’t stop this time.”Allie’s words settled between us.For a moment, I could not move.Her hands rested at the back of my neck. Her body remained close to mine, warm against my chest, but I could feel the tension beneath the desire.Not refusal.Not panic.Something more fragile.Courage.I searched her face.“Are you sure?”Her eyes held mine.“Yes.”“You do not have to continue because you agreed to stay.”“I know.”“Or because we were already kissing.”“I know.”“Or because you think I have been waiting.”A small crease appeared between her brows.“Chase.”“I need to be certain.”“You need to listen.”“I am listening.”“No. You are preparing to protect me from a decision I already made.”The words stopped me.Allie lowered her hands from my neck and placed them against my chest.“I don’t want pity,” she said.“I do not pity you.”“Then stop looking at me like I might break.”My jaw tightened.“I am afraid of hurting you.”“So am I.”That answer surprised me.She continued

MiaNoah had asked me the same question three times in two weeks.The first time, we were leaving a restaurant after midnight.The second time, he was driving me home from one of his games.The third time, he stood in my kitchen holding a spoon and asked, “What are we doing?”Each time, I found a way not to answer.At the restaurant, I blamed the cold and hurried toward the car.After the game, I kissed him before he could finish the conversation.In my kitchen, I told him the ice cream was melting.It had worked temporarily.Noah was patient.He was not stupid.By the fourth week of casually dating, the question had begun appearing in everything he did not say.When he arrived with coffee, I wondered whether a boyfriend was supposed to remember my order.When he stayed on the phone while I complained about a client, I wondered whether casual men listened for forty minutes without becoming distracted.When he stopped introducing me as Allie’s friend and began saying only my name, I no

Allie “Apparently, breakfast.” Noah stood in Mia’s doorway wearing only dark sweatpants. His hair was untidy, his chest was bare, and one hand still held the door as though he had not yet decided whether letting me inside was a good idea. I stared at him. Then looked toward Mia. She stood near the bedroom door wearing an oversized shirt, with sleep still visible in her face and her hair twisted into a loose, messy knot. My surprise lasted several seconds. Delight followed immediately. “Oh.” Mia’s expression became defensive. “Do not.” I looked at Noah again. Then back at her. “Oh.” “Allie.” “I only said one word.” “You said it twice.” “The second one had more information.” Noah stepped aside. “Are you coming in, or should I close the door while you process this?” I entered slowly, holding the coffee cups and breakfast bag against my chest. “I was bringing food.” “Excellent timing,” Noah said. Mia glared at h

ChaseLogan sent the reporter’s name before I reached home.He also forwarded screenshots of Derek’s conversation with the journalist and a short summary of the questions they had asked.The details were worse than he suggested.The reporter knew Allie had agreed not to return to her apartment.They knew she was using the guest room.They knew security had added cameras around the balcony and outer gate.They knew we shared the home office.One message even asked whether Allie had begun preparing meals according to my practice schedule.That detail stopped me.It was too small to come from public photographs.Too ordinary.Allie had cooked while staying with me, but we had never posted it. No reporter had entered the house. The security team did not discuss our meals.Someone had either heard us speaking privately or watched enough of our routine to understand it.I called Nadia from the car.“We have another leak.”“What was released?”“Nothing yet. A reporter is asking questions abo