All Chapters of Tangled Destinies : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Dinner at the Robinson mansion was usually an elegant affair, that had quiet conversation and the soft clinking of silverware against fine china. But tonight, the atmosphere was far from peaceful. The tension at the table was so thick, it seemed to choke the very air. The large dining room that was usually warm with the glow of candlelight and pleasant company, felt cold tonight. Each member of the family sat in their place, the silence stretching like a taut wire, waiting for something or someone to make it snap.David, their father, sat at the head of the table, his face thunderous as he picked at his food without appetite. His dark brows were drawn low over his eyes, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. The veins on the back of his hand stood out as he gripped his fork, making no effort to engage in the meager conversation happening around him. Tonight, they were all puppets waiting to dance to the tune of the piper, and silently, each of them knew without needing to be told

Margaret’s lips parted, but no words came out. The accusation struck her like a blow, and she visibly recoiled from the intensity of his words. Her eyes darted toward James, who was fidgeting in his seat, clearly caught between embarrassment and fear.David’s anger surged again, his voice rising as he slammed his fist on the table, rattling the plates and cutlery. “No son of mine,” he thundered, “could have lost the Winters contract! No son of mine would be this much of a goddamn failure!”The heat in his words, the sheer disgust in his tone, seemed to burn the air around them. The Winters contract was everything to their family’s business—an anchor, a lifeline. And now, thanks to James’s incompetence, it was slipping through their fingers.James, affronted by the attack, sat up straighter in his chair. His face flushed with a mixture of humiliation and frustration. He opened his mouth, and when he spoke, his voice came out in a whiny, defensive tone that only made thing

Lila stood frozen in front of her closet, eyes darting from one dress to another, her pulse racing faster than she liked. Today was the day. Lunch with Dominic and his kids. It wasn’t as if this was a date. It wasn’t. Just lunch. Her fingers traced the hem of her dress, smoothing out invisible wrinkles.Still, her heart wasn’t getting the message. She had agreed to it so casually when he first asked, thinking it would be a nice afternoon to spend with Aaron and Winnie, but now that the moment was here, her heart hammered against her chest.She couldn’t ignore the warm feeling that had bloomed inside her when Dominic sheepishly admitted that Aaron and Winnie had been asking after her. Especially Winnie, with her sweet, cherub-like face. Lila smiled to herself, her fingers lingering over a soft, pale blue dress she hadn’t worn in a while.She snapped her hand back. What was she doing? It wasn’t a date. She didn’t need to impress anyone. And yet, the thought of sitting acro

But before he could continue, Winnie tugged on his hand. “Daddy, can we go see the beach now? Please?”Dominic hesitated, his eyes meeting Lila’s for a fleeting moment. Then, with a sigh and a smile, he turned to his daughter. “Sure, sweetheart.”Lila let out a small breath, relieved and disappointed in equal measure. Whatever he had been about to say, she wasn’t ready to hear it. Not yet.As they headed towards the beach, the laughter of the children echoing around them, Lila felt the weight of her emotions pressing down on her. She was walking a dangerous line, one where her heart was already far too involved.But as Dominic’s arm brushed against hers once more, she couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.And then, just as they reached the dunes, her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her abruptly back to reality. She glanced at the screen and froze.It was another unknown number.Lila’s breath caught as s

True to her word, Annabelle refused to be discouraged by the unyielding secretary’s frosty demeanor. For the past several days, she had bombarded Andre Winters' office with calls, her heart sinking a little each time the reply came back the same: “Mr. Winters is too busy to speak with you.” The sixth time she heard that clipped tone, her patience wore thin, and she threw her phone onto the couch in frustration. With determination etched across her features, Annabelle stood up and smoothed the fabric of her skirt. No way was she letting James’s blunder slip away so easily. If she needed to track down Andre Winters, then she would go to him herself. It was time to shift tactics. After a quick shower, she dressed in her most expensive activewear—a sleek black sports bra and matching leggings that hugged her figure perfectly. The material felt soft against her skin, the brand name printed across her chest a symbol of exclusivity that might help