Semua Bab Accidentally Married to my Ex-Boyfriend’s Father : Bab 111 - Bab 120

~SophiaThe hospital room smelled of antiseptic, the sharp scent burning my nose as I sat hunched over the bed, my hands gripping Lily’s tiny fingers. Her skin was cold, too cold, and her face looked unnaturally pale against the stark white sheets. Her dark lashes rested against her cheeks, unmoving, and the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor was the only proof that she was still here—with me. Tears slipped down my face, splashing onto the back of her hand. “Baby, please wake up,” I whispered, my voice barely audible over the hum of machines. “Mommy’s here… Daddy’s here… please open your eyes.” Beside me, Nathaniel sat silently, his arm around my shoulders, offering warmth I barely felt. His other hand rested on Lily’s leg, his thumb rubbing small, absent circles. “She’ll be fine, Sophia,” he said softly, his voice steady but filled with an uncertainty I knew he was trying to hide. I turned to him, eyes blazing. “How do you know that? We don’t even know what’s wrong with

~IsabellaI sank into the soft mattress of the hotel bed, letting out a slow breath. I was finally out. After all these months of being locked away like a caged animal, I could finally stretch my legs without hearing the rattling of prison chains. Jasper sat next to me, his face as unreadable as ever, casually loading his gun like we weren’t two fugitives hiding from the world. I turned to him. “What about the others?” He didn’t look up. “Which others?” “The idiots who got caught,” I said, irritation lacing my tone. “My so-called friends who couldn't make it out. Are you sure they won’t spill anything about my whereabouts?” Jasper smirked, finally meeting my gaze. “Nah, they won’t. I made sure they knew as little as possible. None of them even knew where we were headed after the escape.” I studied his face for any sign of deception. Jasper had always been reliable, but in this world, you could never be too sure. “So they won’t lead the cops to me?” “No,” he assured me. “

~IsabellaThe room was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of cigarette smoke and cheap air freshener. A small lamp on the nightstand flickered slightly, casting long shadows against the peeling wallpaper. The television screen was the only real source of brightness, illuminating the tiny, suffocating hotel room that had been my cage for weeks now. I exhaled a puff of smoke, watching the tendrils curl upward, disappearing into the musty air. Three weeks. That’s how long it had been since I broke out of prison with Jasper’s help. Three damn weeks of hiding, of staring at these four walls, unable to step out, unable to live. I was losing my mind. I picked up the remote and started flipping through the channels, trying to find something that wouldn’t make me want to throw the damn thing against the wall. News. Talk shows. Reality TV trash. More news. Nothing exciting—until I landed on a breaking news segment. _"Celebrity businessman and real estate mogul, Ricardo Ma

~NathanielThe warm glow of the sitting room cast a soft light over the space, the faint crackling of the fireplace adding a soothing rhythm to the evening. I leaned back into my chair, sipping from my glass of whiskey as I watched, Ethan stretch his legs out on the couch opposite me. "How are things at the office?" I asked, my voice calm, yet firm. Ethan exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Busy. Exhausting. But...not terrible." I smirked. "Not terrible? That’s the best review you can give yourself?" He chuckled, shaking his head. "Fine, fine. It’s going well. Better than I expected. The board isn’t breathing down my neck, and the employees—" He paused, then shrugged. "They seem to respect me." I studied him for a moment, taking in the subtle tension in his shoulders. "I hear it’s more than just respect," I said, swirling the whiskey in my glass. "The workers have been saying a lot of nice things about you." His eyebrows lifted slightly. "Oh?" I nodded. "Hardworkin

~IsabellaI leaned back on the hotel bed, exhaling a puff of smoke as the dim light flickered above me. The room reeked of cigarettes, expensive perfume, and a faint hint of whiskey from the open bottle on the nightstand. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the frustration settle deeper into my bones. “Dammit, Nathaniel,” I muttered, tapping the cigarette against the ashtray. "That man always thinks he can win." Across the room, my friend, Camille, stretched out on the couch, swirling a glass of liquor in her hand. She had been watching me for the past ten minutes, her expression unreadable. “You’re thinking too hard,” she finally said, taking a sip. “That’s never a good look on you.” I scoffed, flicking the ash. “I need a way to strike, Camille. Nathaniel has what belongs to me, and I refuse to let him win. Not after everything.” Camille leaned forward, her long nails clicking against the glass as she smirked. “Then why not call him? Negotiate. You know he owes you, Bella