All Chapters of Accidentally Married to my Ex-Boyfriend’s Father : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

~EthanI stood in the parking lot, hands stuffed into my pockets, trying to steady my nerves. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the house. Nathaniel had just arrived home, stepping out of his sleek black car when I called out to him. “Dad,” I said, my voice firm. “I need to talk to you.” Nathaniel raised a brow, shutting his car door with a thud. “Sounds serious.” “It is.” He studied me for a moment before nodding. “Alright. Let’s talk inside.” I followed him into the house, my heart pounding with every step. I had been waiting for this conversation for a long time. Waiting for the truth. We stepped into the living room, but just as I opened my mouth to speak, my breath caught in my throat. Sophia. She was walking down the grand staircase, her soft curls bouncing with each step, her delicate hands brushing against the railing. But that wasn’t what made my heart stop. It was the dress. A silky, emerald-green dress that fit her perfectly. A dress I

~NathanielIf it were up to me, this dinner wouldn't be happening. But I didn’t have the luxury of making that choice—not when the entire city expected it. A powerful man like me couldn’t afford to be seen as ungrateful, especially when my ex-wife—no, my wife—had returned after years of absence. The public had to see this as a joyous reunion, a celebration of family. So here I was, hosting an elaborate dinner party in honor of Isabella’s return, putting on a show for the world. The grand dining hall was alight with golden chandeliers, their crystals glinting in the soft glow of candlelight centerpieces. Laughter and chatter filled the air, accompanied by the soft melody of a string quartet playing in the corner. Guests dressed in their finest attire mingled, sipping wine and exchanging pleasantries. The scent of roasted lamb, honey-glazed vegetables, and freshly baked bread wafted through the room, mingling with the rich aroma of aged wine. And then, there was Sophia. Dressed in

~SophiaNathaniel and I stepped out of the bathroom, warmth still clinging to our damp skin, laughter tumbling from our lips. He reached for a towel, ruffling his wet hair as I playfully nudged him. “You’re impossible,” I murmured, smiling. He smirked, his golden eyes flickering with mischief. “And yet, here you are. Still hopelessly in love with me.” I rolled my eyes, pretending to scoff, but my cheeks were still flushed—not just from the heat of the shower but from him. The way he had touched me, kissed me… made love to me. My body still hummed with the memory. I turned toward the bed, ready to fall into his arms again, when something—or rather someone—caught my attention. I froze. Sitting casually in one of the chairs, legs crossed with eerie elegance, was Isabella. Nathaniel’s hand, still loosely wrapped around mine, went rigid. For a moment, I thought I was imagining things. That maybe I had been too caught up in my bubble of happiness, that my mind was playing tr

~EthanI sat there, watching Sarah, arms crossed, trying to hide the annoyance creeping up my neck. I wasn’t in the mood for this. At all. But somehow, Sarah had convinced me to come with her to the spa. I didn’t know how she did it. Maybe it was that innocent smile of hers, the one that always got me, or maybe it was the way she bathed me in that guilt trip. “Come on, babe,” she’d said, dragging me out of the house. “It’s just for an hour. You could use the relaxation.” I had argued. Told her I wasn’t in the mood for a massage, not with everything on my mind. But there I was, sitting in the corner of the waiting area, tapping my foot impatiently. Sarah was already on the massage table, face down, completely relaxed. I watched her as the masseuse worked her magic on her shoulders. She sighed in contentment, her body melting under the skilled hands. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. How could she be so calm when my entire world was spinning out of control? Her soft, stea

~NathanielThe boardroom was tense. The air felt thick with unspoken frustration as I sat at the head of the long glass table, my fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished surface. Across from me sat one of our biggest investors, Richard Whitmore, a man in his late fifties with sharp eyes that had seen decades of corporate battles. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his expression unreadable but impatient. “This is a serious issue, Nathaniel,” Richard said, his voice calm but firm. “We’ve got a supply chain crisis on our hands. Our factories in Mexico are experiencing severe delays. If we don’t fix this, we’re looking at millions in losses and possible contract terminations.” I exhaled sharply, already aware of the problem but hating to hear it spoken aloud. “We anticipated some delays, but nothing of this magnitude. What exactly is the holdup?” Richard slid a folder across the table. “Materials. The shipments from our suppliers aren’t making it through customs f