บททั้งหมดของ Once His Wallflower, Now His Biggest Mistake : บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

Chapter 92The library of the Villa de Cristal was a room designed to make men feel small, but tonight, it felt like a war room. The scent of ancient vellum, Cuban tobacco, and a hundred-year-old cognac hung heavy in the air, thick enough to choke a lesser man.Julian Sterling stood by the massive mahogany desk, the light from a single green-shaded lamp casting sharp, predatory angles across his face. He didn't look like a scholar tonight; he looked like an executioner. Opposite him, Marcus paced the length of the Persian rug, his large frame casting a restless shadow against the rows of leather-bound books.At the center of it all sat Lucien. He was draped over a velvet armchair, a crystal glass of amber liquid resting loosely in his fingers. He looked bored, but his eyes, dark and glittering, were fixed on the center of the desk."You’re telling me," Marcus rumbled, stopping his pacing to glare at the shadows, "that the woman who saved our father’s life is a fraud? That we’ve let

Chapter 94The dizziness in my skull wasn't just from the adrenaline spike of catching a falling library; it was the chilling realization that Julian Sterling looked at my forearm the way a jeweler looks at a flawed diamond. He wasn't just suspicious anymore; he was fascinated. And in my profession, a fascinated genius is ten times more lethal than a suspicious one.I needed a diversion. A massive, corporate-sized fire that would draw all the Sterling brothers’ attention away from Antonella’s bone density and toward the snake rotting their family from the inside.It was time to activate the Junior Associates.I shuffled into the sun-drenched playroom, my back arched in that painful Navarino curve, the heavy floral lace of my skirts swishing against the plush carpet. Leo was hunched over a complex set of blueprints for a Lego skyscraper, his brow furrowed with a terrifying intensity. Luna was nearby, meticulously organizing her stuffed animals into what looked like a tactical milita

Chapter 96The marble floor beneath my feet didn’t just feel cold; it felt like it had turned into thin ice, cracking in every direction. My bone marrow felt like it had been injected with liquid nitrogen. For the first time in my career as a desperate ex-husband, through three wars, a dozen extractions, and a lifetime of living in the skin of other men, I felt the suffocating weight of total exposure.The "Antonella" mask, which had felt like a fortress only moments ago, now felt like a neon sign. My breath hitched, a ragged, masculine sound that I didn't even try to disguise."You're shocked," Alaric said, his voice devoid of the high-pitched, whiny cadence he usually used to annoy the Sterlings. It was deep. It was resonant. It was the voice of a man who had been playing a much longer game than I ever imagined."I... I do not know of this Caleb," I rasped, my hand instinctively reaching for the shawl to pull it tighter, a pathetic reflex of a dying persona. "Señor, the mountain air

Chapter 98The air in the Grand Ballroom of the Villa de Cristal didn’t just shimmer; it vibrated with the predatory hum of old money and new alliances. Tonight was the "Sterling Unity Gala," a billion-dollar stage set to celebrate the merger that was supposed to cement our family’s dominance for the next century. Thousands of white hydrangeas cascaded from the balconies, their scent cloying and sweet, like a funeral shroud dipped in perfume.I stood at the top of the sweeping marble staircase, the weight of my gown, a custom-made sheath of midnight-blue silk encrusted with hand-sewn sapphires feeling more like a suit of armor than a piece of couture. I wasn't just dressed to impress; I was dressed to conquer. Every diamond at my throat was a cold, hard reminder of the price of my silence.To my left, Leo stood in a miniature tuxedo, his face a mask of miniature Sterling stoicism. To my right, Luna gripped my hand, her hair curled into perfect golden ringlets, looking like a porcela

Chapter 100The applause following Alaric’s public execution was a dull roar in my ears, like the sound of a distant ocean. I stood in the shadows of the catering station, my "Antonella" wig slightly askew from the sheer psychic force of what I had just witnessed.Evelyn was magnificent. She was a hurricane. She had just dismantled a man’s entire existence with the surgical precision of a black-ops interrogator, and she hadn't even broken a sweat. I felt a surge of pride so potent it nearly overrode my survival instincts. That’s my ex-wife, I thought. That’s the Sterling blood finally running hot.But then, she looked at me.It wasn't a glance. It was a lock-on. Her eyes, cold and sapphire-bright, zeroed in on my position behind the floral arrangements. The smile she gave me wasn't the smile of a woman in love; it was the smile of a cat watching a mouse try to remember which hole led to the exit.My blood ran cold. The documents detailing Alaric’s fraud, the papers I had spent week