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Chapter 9: The Wedding
Last Updated:
2024-12-27 17:06:11
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Elle POVI smoothed my hands down the sleek fabric of the dress, frowning at my reflection in the mirror. I feel like I was walking onto the set of The Real Housewives of Manhattan instead of a… what was it he called it? A press conference?The dress was deep emerald green, the silk hugging my curves in ways that left very little to the imagination. Thin straps crisscrossed over my bare shoulders, and the slit running up the side? That thing could kill a man. It was the first dress I’d tried on when we’d entered the boutique, but I hadn’t actually planned on buying it. I know it wasn’t exactly in my price range—or my comfort zone.Adrian was standing behind me, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed. When I turned to glance at him, his gaze roamed over me like he was seeing me for the first time.“You look…” He paused. “Breathtaking.”My cheeks warmed, and I turned back to the mirror, trying to ignore the way my heart skipped.“It’s a little much for a press conferenc
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Adrian POVShe slumped in her seat, groaning softly. “Okay, fine, yes. But I’m not about to eat some overpriced tiny portion that costs more than my rent, so don’t even think about it.”There was something about her—the way she spoke her mind without hesitation—that felt refreshing. Honest. Even when she was embarrassed, she owned it.“Fine,” I said. “What do you want?”“Pizza,” she blurted suddenly, catching me off guard.I glanced at her. “Pizza?”“Yes, pizza,” she said, sitting up straighter, as if daring me to argue. “From Alessandro’s over on Grand Street.”I blinked. Alessandro’s. A hole-in-the-wall Italian place with mismatched chairs and a menu written in smudged chalk. “Alessandro’s?” I repeated, my voice slightly incredulous.She nodded, her confidence unwavering. “Best pizza in the city. Hands down.”“Fine. Pizza it is.” I said, turning the wheel and heading toward Grand Street.The smell of garlic and melted cheese hit me the second we stepped into Alessandro’s, and for a
Last Updated : 2024-12-30Oops…I Slept With My Ex-Boyfriend’s Father Chapter 12: Wedding Reception
Elle POVI should’ve known Adrian Blackwell didn’t do anything halfway.The reception wasn’t just smooth—it was flawless, like something out of a movie. Crystal chandeliers cast a soft golden glow across the ballroom, catching the glint of diamonds on every wrist and neckline. Waiters floated around with silver trays, offering champagne that probably cost more than my whole life savings. I sipped cautiously from my glass, sticking close to Adrian as a steady stream of people came up to congratulate him“Adrian, you sly devil,” one man said, clapping him on the back with a laugh. “When I heard you’d finally tied the knot, I didn’t believe it. Thought you were allergic to commitment.”Adrian smirked, his hand resting lightly on my back. “There’s a first time for everything, Richard.”Richard’s gaze slid to me, his smile widening. “And you must be Elle. My wife told me you were stunning, but I wasn’t prepared for this.”“Thank you,” I said, my smile polite but tight. Compliments like tha
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“Elle! Get your fat ass to table seven. Now.” The words hit me like a slap, but I keep my expression blank, refusing to let Damien see the sting. He loves that—loves tearing me down, loves watching me squirm. I know I should walk away, tell him to go to hell, but after five years, it’s a habit I haven’t broken. I still hear the voice of the girl I was at sixteen, the one who believed she was lucky to have him. I adjust my apron, my fingers trembling slightly, and force myself to move. Damien has always hated the way I look. Said I was too fat. He takes every chance he gets to make me feel bad about my body. He doesn’t even bother to hide it anymore. He’s spent the last years making sure I know I’m not enough—not pretty enough, not thin enough, not worthy enough of him. But I stayed, didn’t I? I stayed because every cruel word was wrapped in just enough sweetness to keep me hooked. I stop in front of table seven, and my stomach drops. He’s sitting there, of all places, like t
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Three Months Later I didn’t belong here. The glittering chandeliers, the clinking of crystal glasses, the hum of polished conversations—it all felt like a cruel joke. Sophie swore this gala would “pull me out of my funk,” but I knew better. This wasn’t about distracting me. This was about proving I was fine. Which, for the record, I wasn’t. Damian and I had been together for five years. Five. And in the blink of an eye—or rather, over the course of one cold, heartless conversation—he was gone. No warning, no closure. Just, gone. And then silence. It had been three months, and I was still choking on the ashes of what we’d built. Sophie hated seeing me like this, I got it. But dragging me here—where he could show up, where his world overlapped with hers and, by extension, mine—felt like punishment, not therapy. “Will you stop fidgeting?” Sophie hissed as she tugged me through the entrance hall. “I’m not fidgeting,” I snapped, pulling at the sleek black mask digging into my te
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I shoved through the heavy glass doors. My breath came hard and fast, the pounding in my ears drowning out everything else. The garden stretched below the balcony, but I didn’t see it. My vision blurred, focused only on the humiliation burning under my skin. Damian. On his knee. With her. I gripped the iron railing, my nails biting into the cold metal.Five years of my life wasted. Five years of believing we were building a future, of giving him everything—my heart, my body, my innocence—only for him to toss me aside like I was nothing. I hated him. God, I hated him. I hated the way he still controlled me, the way I cared despite everything. And deep down, I hated myself for staying. My shoulders shook. “Do you always leave when the party gets interesting?” I spun around, startled. It was him—the man from earlier. The one I’d bumped into, the one I’d danced with. He leaned against the doorframe, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his dark suit. His mask was gone now, reve
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“Oh my God.” I gripped his broad shoulders. His lips followed the descent of my underwear, kissing each new spot of my flesh he revealed. I was going to explode. Burst into a million pieces and flutter to the ground like burnt confetti. His mouth inched along the top of my slit, and something like panic gurgled in my system. I wasn’t supposed to do this, but dear God, how I craved the slippery slide of his tongue, desperate for him to go lower. I moaned and arched off the desk as I got my wish. The tip of his tongue brushed over me. Cautious. Curious. My reaction must have left no doubt in his mind what I wanted, because his second pass wasn’t hesitant. The full sensation of his tongue against my clit tore a gasp from my lungs. He looked incredible hunched over me, delivering his wicked, intimate kiss. The sharp angles of his face and the dark fall of his hair framed his expression—focused, hungry, like he was devouring me in the best way. Pleasure was so sharp and overwhelmin
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I slipped out of his hold, careful not to make a sound. My dress hung on the back of the chair, rumpled and impossibly wrinkled. I winced as I slid it back over my bare skin, the fabric brushing against all the places he’d kissed, touched, claimed. The library was quiet now, sunlight cutting through the high windows in thin beams. I glanced back at him, sprawled on the leather couch, still asleep. His shirt was discarded on the floor, and the blanket I’d haphazardly thrown over him barely covered the his chest. God, what had I done? My stomach twisted with shame. Did I just sleep with a stranger? I should regret last night. I should feel guilty. But the truth? I didn’t. I slipped my shoes on and crept toward the door, biting back the ridiculous urge to wake him, to say something, anything, before I left. But I didn’t. This wasn’t supposed to be anything but a mistake. A mistake I’d make again in a heartbeat. I shook the thought away, pushing it deep down where it couldn’t haun
Last Updated : 2024-12-11
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Oops…I Slept With My Ex-Boyfriend’s Father Chapter 12: Wedding Reception
Elle POVI should’ve known Adrian Blackwell didn’t do anything halfway.The reception wasn’t just smooth—it was flawless, like something out of a movie. Crystal chandeliers cast a soft golden glow across the ballroom, catching the glint of diamonds on every wrist and neckline. Waiters floated around with silver trays, offering champagne that probably cost more than my whole life savings. I sipped cautiously from my glass, sticking close to Adrian as a steady stream of people came up to congratulate him“Adrian, you sly devil,” one man said, clapping him on the back with a laugh. “When I heard you’d finally tied the knot, I didn’t believe it. Thought you were allergic to commitment.”Adrian smirked, his hand resting lightly on my back. “There’s a first time for everything, Richard.”Richard’s gaze slid to me, his smile widening. “And you must be Elle. My wife told me you were stunning, but I wasn’t prepared for this.”“Thank you,” I said, my smile polite but tight. Compliments like tha
Oops…I Slept With My Ex-Boyfriend’s Father Chapter 11: Food Stop
Adrian POVShe slumped in her seat, groaning softly. “Okay, fine, yes. But I’m not about to eat some overpriced tiny portion that costs more than my rent, so don’t even think about it.”There was something about her—the way she spoke her mind without hesitation—that felt refreshing. Honest. Even when she was embarrassed, she owned it.“Fine,” I said. “What do you want?”“Pizza,” she blurted suddenly, catching me off guard.I glanced at her. “Pizza?”“Yes, pizza,” she said, sitting up straighter, as if daring me to argue. “From Alessandro’s over on Grand Street.”I blinked. Alessandro’s. A hole-in-the-wall Italian place with mismatched chairs and a menu written in smudged chalk. “Alessandro’s?” I repeated, my voice slightly incredulous.She nodded, her confidence unwavering. “Best pizza in the city. Hands down.”“Fine. Pizza it is.” I said, turning the wheel and heading toward Grand Street.The smell of garlic and melted cheese hit me the second we stepped into Alessandro’s, and for a
Oops…I Slept With My Ex-Boyfriend’s Father Chapter 10: Dressing the Part
Elle POVI smoothed my hands down the sleek fabric of the dress, frowning at my reflection in the mirror. I feel like I was walking onto the set of The Real Housewives of Manhattan instead of a… what was it he called it? A press conference?The dress was deep emerald green, the silk hugging my curves in ways that left very little to the imagination. Thin straps crisscrossed over my bare shoulders, and the slit running up the side? That thing could kill a man. It was the first dress I’d tried on when we’d entered the boutique, but I hadn’t actually planned on buying it. I know it wasn’t exactly in my price range—or my comfort zone.Adrian was standing behind me, leaning casually against the wall with his arms crossed. When I turned to glance at him, his gaze roamed over me like he was seeing me for the first time.“You look…” He paused. “Breathtaking.”My cheeks warmed, and I turned back to the mirror, trying to ignore the way my heart skipped.“It’s a little much for a press conferenc
Oops…I Slept With My Ex-Boyfriend’s Father Chapter 9: The Wedding
Elle POVThe second I stepped onto the porch, I saw my mom waiting at the door, her arms crossed, her face stormy. Typical your-daughter-just-made-headlines-for-all-the-wrong-reasons rage radiated off her. The curtains in the living room next door twitched as our nosy neighbor, Mrs. Brown undoubtedly tried to get a better view. Great.“Mom, I—”“Don’t even start,” she snapped, throwing open the door and stepping aside. “Inside. Now.”I sighed, trudging past her into the small living room. The faint hum of the heater filled the awkward silence as I shrugged off my coat. The smell of cinnamon from the candles she always burned when stressed clung to the air. Judging by the half-melted wax pooling in the holders, she’d been at it for hours.She shut the door with a sharp click and turned to face me, hands on her hips. “What the hell is going on, Elle? Half the neighborhood has already sent me the article. Your face is everywhere!”“I didn’t ask for this,” I said, throwing my hands up. “I
Oops…I Slept With My Ex-Boyfriend’s Father Chapter 8: Bargain
Elle POVAdrian’s jaw was clenched so tight I was sure it was on the verge of snapping. He gripped the steering wheel like he wanted to break it in half, his foot heavy on the gas as we sped through the dark streets. The tension in the car was suffocating, but I knew better than to say anything.The article. The photos. Damian and Lucia’s smug faces. The way Adrian had walked out of the house without a word, his hand gripping mine .His phone buzzed on the console, breaking the thick silence. He glanced at it, his lips curling in a scowl. “Pick it up please. Put it on speaker.”I grabbed the phone, swiping to answer. “Mr. Blackwell,” a sharp female voice came through. “I’ve been trying to reach you all evening. We have a problem.”Adrian didn’t respond, his focus on the road, his knuckles white against the leather wheel.“Go on, Melissa”“The article,” she began, her voice lowering. “It’s spreading like wildfire. The photos—” She hesitated. “They’re explicit. It’s not just tabloids a
Oops…I Slept With My Ex-Boyfriend’s Father Chapter 7: The Dinner
“Now that I think of it, this is a bad idea,” Adrian said, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel as he tried to reverse the car.I whipped around to glare at him. “Are you out of your mind? It took me three hours to pull this glam. There’s no way we’re backing out now.”He gave me a long stare, one that sent a ripple of heat through me despite my irritation. Then, slowly, his gaze drifted over me, lingering just a little too long on the neckline of my black dress.“You look absolutely ravishing,” he said, his voice dipping low. “Although,” he added, his lips curling into a wicked smirk, “I think you’d look even better without all of it.”My cheeks burned, and I tugged at the edges of my dress to ground myself. “Focus, Adrian. Are we doing this or not?”“He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, his frustration evident. “Are you sure about this? It’s not too late to back out.”I nodded firmly, ignoring the nervous flutter in my stomach. “Absolutely.”He let out a breath, sho
Oops…I Slept With My Ex-Boyfriend’s Father Chapter 6: The Backstory
The coffee in front of me had gone cold. Not that I’d had a chance to drink it. My hands were shaking too much to hold the cup without spilling, and the words I’d just spilled onto the table were somehow worse. Adrian sat across from me, his face a stone wall, unreadable. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and stupid. Every word I’d just said sounded ridiculous even to my own ears. Every ugly truth. Every stupid, shameful mistake I’d made by staying with Damian. I talked until my throat burned, my words spilling like a broken faucet I couldn’t turn off My chest felt like it was caving in. He hadn’t said a word since I started, and now I was sure I’d made a mistake. I tried to laugh, but it came out broken. “I probably sound ridiculous. Staying with someone like that, letting him treat me like—” Me. That’s who. My voice cracked, and I stopped, blinking rapidly. Don’t cry. Not here. Not in front of him. I was failing I wiped at the corner of my eye, trying to catch the tear th
Oops…I Slept With My Ex-Boyfriend’s Father Chapter 5: Caught in the Act
“Oh my God,” I said, only this time it was with shame and not the heady enjoyment I’d felt seconds ago. I scrambled backward, snaking my arms across my chest to cover my bare breasts. My heart was hammering so loud, I couldn’t hear anything except that terrible voice. “Shit!” Adrian spat, running a hand through his hair as he stepped away from me, his jaw tightening. “What. The. Fuck?” Damian’s voice lashed through the air like a whip, his shoulders tense as he glared at his father. The room felt impossibly small. My mind flooded with a hundred questions, all colliding and scrambling for attention. What is Damian doing here? How had we not heard him come in? And Dad? I shot a glance at Adrian, my mind spinning. He didn’t look old enough to have a son Damian’s age. “What are you doing here?” I demanded, my voice shaky and desperate. Damian’s glare shifted to me, the fury in his eyes almost blistering. “What am I doing here? I came to talk to my girl.” He took a step closer,
Oops…I Slept With My Ex-Boyfriend’s Father Chapter 4: The Reveal
I slipped out of his hold, careful not to make a sound. My dress hung on the back of the chair, rumpled and impossibly wrinkled. I winced as I slid it back over my bare skin, the fabric brushing against all the places he’d kissed, touched, claimed. The library was quiet now, sunlight cutting through the high windows in thin beams. I glanced back at him, sprawled on the leather couch, still asleep. His shirt was discarded on the floor, and the blanket I’d haphazardly thrown over him barely covered the his chest. God, what had I done? My stomach twisted with shame. Did I just sleep with a stranger? I should regret last night. I should feel guilty. But the truth? I didn’t. I slipped my shoes on and crept toward the door, biting back the ridiculous urge to wake him, to say something, anything, before I left. But I didn’t. This wasn’t supposed to be anything but a mistake. A mistake I’d make again in a heartbeat. I shook the thought away, pushing it deep down where it couldn’t haun
