Todos los capítulos de His Perfect Mistake : Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

Daniel Reed had never believed in luck. Luck was what wealthy people called advantages they were born with. Luck was the word people used when they didn't want to admit how much harder they had to work for the same opportunities. Luck was for people who could afford to wait for things to happen. Daniel couldn't afford to wait.Three days after Victor gave him his assignment, he was already moving. The file on Adam Kareem sat open on his passenger seat, pages covered in notes he'd made after multiple readings. He'd learned more about Adam in seventy-two hours. Which gym he visited before work. Which route he took home. Which sports teams he followed with near-religious devotion.And most importantly, which bar he visited every Thursday evening without fail. Daniel arrived thirty minutes early.He chose a seat near the corner, where he could see the entrance without being obvious. He ordered a drink he didn't plan to take and waited.Adam walked in at exactly 7:15. He looked tired. The

Bianca woke earlier than she'd intended to. The guest room at the Anderson mansion was larger than her entire apartment, but the unfamiliar ceiling and the strange quiet of an unfamiliar house had kept her restless through most of the night. She'd finally given up on sleep around 6:30, slipped into the borrowed clothes Victoria had left outside her door, and made her way downstairs.She expected an empty kitchen or maybe a housekeeper preparing something. Instead, she found Ethan.He stood in front of the coffee machine, glaring at it like it had personally offended him. His hair was still slightly disheveled. He wore a rumpled shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and his expression carried the particular frustration of a man who had been defeated by household appliances.Bianca leaned against the doorframe. "Having trouble?"Ethan didn't turn around. "No.""You've been staring at that machine for long.""I'm waiting for it to work.""That's not how coffee machines work." Bianca bit b

  The negotiation took longer than anyone expected. Bianca sat in her father's study, flanked by Charles on one side and Elena, her mother on the other, while Ethan occupied the opposite end of the room with Richard and Victoria. The space felt smaller than it usually did. The tension pressed against the walls like something alive.Richard spoke first. "The arrangement is straightforward. Bianca moves into the mansion. The public perception strengthens. The merger proceeds without unnecessary speculation.""That's not happening," Bianca said.Richard's eyebrow lifted. "Excuse me?""I said that's not happening." She kept her voice steady. "I'm not moving out of my apartment permanently.""The purpose of this arrangement...""I understand the purpose." Bianca met his gaze. "I also understand that I have a life outside this arrangement. A job. Friends. A home that I'm not willing to give up."Richard's jaw tight

Ethan didn't come back to the room that night. Bianca waited. She told herself she wasn't waiting. She sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through her phone without seeing anything, listening for footsteps that never came. The mansion was quiet in a way that felt deliberate, like even the walls were holding their breath.At some point, she fell asleep. When she woke, the sun was up and Ethan's side of the bed was untouched. The covers were smooth. The pillow still had the indent from where she'd placed it, hours earlier, thinking he might eventually come in and need it.At breakfast, Sophie said he'd left early for a meeting. He'd be back late. Bianca nodded and didn't ask any questions but she couldn't stop thinking about what happened and the way Richard had looked at her, like she'd stumbled into a room she wasn't supposed to see. The way Ethan had walked past her without a word, his jaw set, his eyes fixed.Her phone buzzed on the table. An unknown number. She picked it up, frow

Adam stared at the photo until his eyes began to water. He didn't blink, didn't move either. He just sat there on the edge of his bed, holding his phone in both hands, watching the image glow against the dark room.He waited for something else to arrive. A follow-up text. A demand. A threat. Something that would tell him what this was actually about, nothing came. The screen stayed exactly as it was, frozen on that single image, and somehow the silence made it worse.He tapped the number at the top of the message, then pressed call. The line clicked once. "Sorry. The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service."Adam lowered the phone slowly. He sat there, breathing, trying to make sense of it. Wrong number. That was the easiest explanation. Someone had sent a photo to the wrong person. It happened all the time. It didn't have to mean anything but it did mean something because the photo wasn't random. It wasn't a selfie, or a blurry screenshot, or a mistake. It was clear, t