All Chapters of Claiming Daddy : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Stella's POV“Please, let me walk, I hate that wheelchair,” I pleaded with my cold hearted handsome god, but he shook his head. “I'm sorry but-” “If you're so sorry, then you would give into me. The doctor said I could use my legs already and I even tried dancing yesterday,” but nothing I said got to him. “Then you must also remember how you fell flat on your face and almost broke your nose,” he said. “You don't have to remind me of such a sad moment,” I said gloomily as I tried to get off the wheelchair, but he held me back and made me sit. “Just listen to me today,” he said and I gave in eventually. It was Mrs Martinez’ funeral and also a week and a half after the confrontation at the hospital. We were both dressed in black. Lawrence was suited in black with white shirt and a striped tie while I had a dress on. “Now, shall we?” He said as he held my hand which I yanked from his hold in a pout. After the empty coffin was laid in the ground, we headed back to their family home

Lawrence's POVThe sweet floral scent of Stella's perfume enveloped me as I pulled her close, our fingers interlaced. Her touch was electric, sending tingles across my skin. I gazed into her emerald eyes, losing myself in their depths."So, got any wild plans for us today?" I asked, my voice low. Stella smirked, mischief dancing in her eyes. "Oh, I've got some ideas."I raised an eyebrow. "Do tell, princess.""Well, it involves a scenic hike, picnic lunch, and maybe some skinny dipping if you're lucky," she said, tracing a finger down my chest. A pleasant shiver went through me."I like the way you think," I said with a smile.We drove out to a secluded hiking trail, the morning air crisp and clean in my lungs. Birds twittered brightly in the treetops as we strolled hand-in-hand down sun-dappled paths strewn with fallen leaves that crushed underfoot.At a gurgling stream, Stella spread out a picnic blanket and tempting spread - juicy strawberries, creamy brie, crispy baguette. Sweet

Lawrence's POVI tensed seeing Jameson's expensive Italian loafers propped casually on my pristine glass coffee table. How had he breached the penthouse security again? Surely he hadn't charmed my guard detail this time. Unease prickled beneath my businesslike veneer. Nothing good ever came of my wayward brother's unannounced visits. I strode into the living room prepared to forcibly remove him, only to pull up short. There stood Stella before a wide canvas, laughing brightly at something Jameson had murmured. He lounged on the sofa behind her looking utterly at ease. I shouldn't have been surprised he would foist his questionable charms on Stella given half an opportunity. Was he really so arrogant as to presume no doors barred to him? Or was there a murkier purpose behind this charm offensive?"Hope I'm not interrupting?" I clipped out by way of announcing myself.Stella glanced over her shoulder, face brightening. "Lawrence, you're home! Where have you been all day?" Her deligh

Stella's POVI awoke before dawn, tingling with inspiration. Slipping from Lawrence's sleeping embrace, I tucked the sheet around his bare shoulders and pressed a feather-light kiss to his temple. Even relaxed in slumber, power and intellect radiated from him. But vulnerable too in these unguarded moments shared only with me. I would capture that compelling duality today in paint if my humble talents sufficed.Selecting a small canvas and vivid oils, I ensconced myself at the suite's sunlit windows overlooking the awakening city below. My brush darted and swooped, blending hopeful golds and passionate crimsons suggestive of last night's tender intimacy. Though abstract, the emerging image felt alive, my own quickened heartbeat pulsing through each impassioned stroke. Creating has become intensely personal, a conduit for spirit.Some while later, strong arms enfolded me from behind as Lawrence propped his bearded chin on my shoulder. His refreshed scent mingled tantalisingly with pa

Lawrence's POVI practically floated through Andre's studio doors, buoyed by an intense wave of inspiration. The abstract piece I had poured my heart into this morning seemed to pulse with life forces of its own, colors and textures still dancing across my inner eye. I couldn't wait to show my enigmatic mentor how his lessons were already bearing fruit.Andre turned from arranging bouquets along the sun-drenched windows, eyebrows lifting as he spotted my concealed canvas. "Well, someone could not stay away it seems! What have you brought to show me, little star?"With suddenly shy hands I unveiled the intensely personal painting depicting Lawrence and I tangled passionately against an impasto background of shadow and light. Viewing it here outside our private haven made me feel unexpectedly exposed, nerves jangling. Would he discern too much of my soul woven bare across the layers of paint?"Mon dieu," Andre murmured, angling the canvas to catch the warm light. He traced the textures