All Chapters of In Love With My Enemy : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Isabella RooseveltMy phone buzzed relentlessly, lighting up for what had to be the sixtieth time today. I glanced at the screen, seeing “Mom” flash repeatedly. She’d been calling nonstop, her persistence growing by the minute. The guilt settled heavy in my chest, and finally, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. Taking a deep breath, I swiped to answer.“Mom,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. The lump in my throat made it hard to speak, my emotions catching me off guard.“My baby!” she cried, her voice breaking with relief. “Why haven’t you been answering? I’ve been so worried. You’re not alone, are you? Why aren’t you answering my calls?” She sounded frantic, each question hitting me like a wave of guilt.I exhaled, trying to steady my voice. “He… he took away my phone, Mom,” I murmured, not really knowing how else to explain it. It wasn’t true, I hadn’t had the heart to reach out sooner. Saying it like this felt easier than explaining everything else that was going on. Also did wa

Lucas Harrington I scrolled aimlessly on my laptop, trying to focus on work but mostly just waiting for the Roosevelts to leave. The tension of their presence weighed heavily on the house. I couldn’t stand them—for everything they represented and for all the ways they’d managed to harm my family’s name and legacy. But Isabella’s mother was different. From what I’d observed over the years, she was a softer presence, someone who didn’t carry the same prejudice or superiority complex as the rest of them. It almost made me feel bad for putting her through all this… but then again, she had willingly married a monster.A knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up, and there stood Isabella, just like she had for the past five years. She stood in that familiar, quiet way, the way she always had when she was my assistant, waiting patiently with that steady, almost soothing presence. I’d always had a soft spot for her—a certain kindness I afforded her that I gave to no one else,

Isabella RooseveltI paced back and forth in my room, wracking my brain for some kind of excuse to approach Lucas. The last thing I wanted was to come off like a desperate, lovesick fool who couldn’t resist his allure after a single, intense encounter. But the truth was, every time I tried to think of something casual, my mind went blank.What’s wrong with me?I wasn’t the type to lose my composure over a guy, let alone one like Lucas Harrington. I didn’t even think I had a crush on him. This wasn’t some silly infatuation—at least, that’s what I told myself.But ever since our last encounter, my body felt different, like it was tuned to him in a way I couldn’t explain. My skin still tingled where his gaze had lingered, where his hand had brushed against me. I couldn’t shake the feeling, and now I was restless, desperate to be near him, just to feel that same thrill again.With a frustrated huff, I gave myself one last look in the mirror before heading downstairs, praying I’d run into

Isabella Roosevelt“Hey, listen,” Lucas’s voice startled me from my thoughts. I turned around quickly, my heart pounding as I saw him standing near my desk, his eyes glued to his phone, his usual look of focus evident.“Yes?” I replied, grateful for the chance to admire him while he was distracted. With his sharp jawline, the subtle strength of his cheekbones, and those piercing dark eyes that could switch from soft to intimidating in an instant, Lucas was distractingly beautiful.His lips were a perfect blend of firm and soft, framed by a faint stubble that gave him an effortlessly rugged edge. Every line and angle of his face looked like it had been meticulously crafted, and even now, engrossed in his phone, he radiated a kind of quiet intensity.“My brother’s throwing a Christmas party,” he said nonchalantly, his tone all business. “And apparently, I’ll need to take my ‘fiancée’ with me.”“On the 25th?” I asked, feeling a pang of nervousness. I knew where this conversation was head

Lucas HarringtonI paced around my office, still unsettled by the brief encounter with Walsh Raymond. I should have expected this—everyone knew that the Roosevelts and Raymonds were close, practically joined at the hip in our world of old-money alliances. But it was something else seeing him here, knowing he’d once been a fixture in Isabella’s life.In university, Walsh had been surprisingly grounded for a guy with his pedigree. I could easily see why Isabella might have had a thing for him; he had that quiet, reliable charm that a girl like her would be drawn to.But the thought of it grated on me, of Isabella once being in love with someone else. It didn’t make sense. This wasn’t a marriage of love—nothing about it was supposed to feel remotely romantic, and Isabella didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter either. And yet, the idea of my future wife having feelings for another man didn’t sit well with me.She hadn’t told me she was meeting Walsh, though I had a feeling something