All Chapters of Your Lips to Mine #2: The Billionaire's Secret Garden: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

The moment Jill and Liam entered the room together, the air in the house seemed to shift. Jill looked a bit more collected now, though there was still an edge of worry in her expression. Liam, however, exuded a calm, practiced confidence. His demeanor was reassuring, the way he immediately took charge and moved toward Alexander without missing a beat. His eyes assessed the situation with the sharpness of someone who had done this countless times before. Sophia stood at the door, watching them, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to steady herself. Seeing Alexander lying there—pale, injured, vulnerable—still took her breath away. But as Liam carefully examined Alexander, she began to feel a flicker of hope. He was still with them, still breathing. Liam worked quickly, his hands moving with purpose as he checked Alexander’s vitals and adjusted the makeshift bandages on his side. Sophia held her breath, willing herself to be patient, to trust that Liam knew what he was doing

The soft light of the early morning filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow in the living room. I sat on the couch, cradling a mug of coffee in my hands, my mind far from the peaceful serenity the morning usually brought. Today, everything felt different. Heavy. I glanced at the clock—it was well past eight. I should be at the shop, opening up, greeting my regular customers with a smile and a joke. But today, my mind wasn’t in the right place. It kept drifting back to Alexander, lying in my bed, recovering from the gunshot wound. I couldn’t shake the image of him pale and motionless, his life hanging by a thread. His uncle. His family. All of it swirling together in a mess I couldn’t quite understand. A part of me wanted to stay by his side. I wanted to stay in the safety of my home, just being there for him. I didn’t want to face the world outside, where I could still feel the tension, the fear of what might happen next. But I couldn’t lock myself away forever. I had a

The morning light spilled into the shop as I went about my usual routine, carefully arranging the fresh blooms that had arrived just an hour earlier. I tried to focus on the simple beauty of the flowers—their colors, their textures, their subtle fragrances. It was the kind of work that usually calmed me, but today, it felt mechanical. My hands moved, but my mind was elsewhere. I could still feel the eyes. Watching. Waiting. Their presence was as tangible as the petals in my hands. Jill had told me to act normal, to pretend as if I knew nothing, and that’s exactly what I was doing. But it was exhausting. Every smile I forced felt like a performance, every polite greeting a rehearsed line. My shop, once my haven, felt more like a stage where I was the main act in a play I didn’t want to be part of. Customers trickled in, more than usual. Some were regulars, their familiar faces a small comfort amidst the tension. But there were others—new faces, unfamiliar and unsettling. I couldn’t s

Alexander sat upright on the bed, his face pale but his eyes burning with a sharp intensity. Jill stood near the door, her arms crossed, clearly prepared for the interrogation she knew was coming. “What happened?” Alexander demanded, his voice low but firm. Despite his weakened state, the commanding tone that usually accompanied him in business negotiations hadn’t faded. Jill sighed, stepping closer to the bed. She had been dreading this moment, knowing how protective Alexander could get, especially when it came to Sophia. “I was going to tell you when you were stronger,” she began cautiously, “but I guess you won’t rest until you know.” Alexander’s sharp glare was enough to confirm her statement. Jill pulled up a chair and sat down, meeting his gaze directly. “Fine. Here’s what happened.” She started from the beginning, recounting the events in a measured tone. “After the shooting, Sophia was the one who came to help. She got your message—or what she thought was your message—an

The morning light seeped through the edges of the curtains as I went through the familiar motions of opening my shop. It had become routine: unbolt the doors, dust off the shelves, arrange the flowers just right, and put on a smile that I hoped looked genuine. But today felt different. As I unlocked the door and flipped the sign to “Open,” I realized I wasn’t as tense as before. Over the past week, the watchful eyes that had followed my every move seemed to have dwindled. I still felt the occasional prickle of someone watching, but it was nothing like before. Maybe they were growing tired, or perhaps they had concluded that I wasn’t important enough to keep tabs on. Whatever the reason, the shift in their vigilance brought me a sense of relief. The first customer of the day entered, and the sound of the bell above the door pulled me back to reality. I greeted her with my usual warm smile. “Good morning! How can I help you today?” The day passed as it always did, with a steady