All Chapters of My Best Friend’s Uncle… and My Baby Daddy: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

We arrived at the park just as the late afternoon sun began to dip, casting long, golden shadows across the grass. It was lined with beautiful, lush trees. I got out of the car, breathing in the fresh, crisp air as Eric found a parking spot. The park was vastly empty, aside from a few sets of people walking their dogs or jogging in the distance. It felt like the nature had cleared the stage just for us. Eric got Finn out of his car seat first, then grabbed the heavy picnic basket. I stepped up beside him, looping my arm through his, and we started walking deeper into the park toward a secluded cluster of oaks. There was a weight to the way he walked—steady, confident, yet somehow more relaxed than I had ever seen him. I pulled the picnic blanket from the top of the basket, about to spread it on the soft green grass, when Eric gently took it from my hand. He didn't say anything; he just did it himself, smoothing out the fabric with a level of attentiveness that made me blush. He had p

"Who let you in here?!”Eric’s voice didn’t just ring out; it thundered, vibrating through the floorboards and startling every soul in the kitchen. It was a furious, jagged sound that made the room freeze in an instant. The maids stopped mid-motion, their faces draining of color, and the air—which had been warm with the scent of cinnamon and oats—suddenly felt below freezing.The porcelain plate in my hand, heavy with freshly sliced fruit, slipped from my startled grip. It hit the tile with a sharp crack, shattering into a hundred jagged pieces that skittered across the floor.I didn't even have time to look down. Eric was already across the room, his glare pointed like a weapon. He looked like a predator.“Didn’t I tell you not to let her do manual labor?” his voice dropped an octave, vibrating with an unsuppressed rage directed at the trembling staff. “I gave specific instructions!”I didn't wait for him to roar again. I glided over to where he stood, his chest heaving under his swe

The day of the funeral arrived with a heavy, overcast sky that seemed to mirror the somber mood of London. Per the Kingston family traditions, Elijah was to be buried seven days after his demise—a week that felt like a lifetime of holding our collective breath.The church was a cathedral of aged stone and stained glass, packed with people from all walks of life. Tycoons in charcoal suits, politicians, and distant relatives had gathered to honor the memory of a man who had been a titan of industry. I sat in the front pew, the wood hard beneath me, feeling the eyes of the elite boring into the back of my head. To them, I was still the mystery wife, the woman who had appeared out of nowhere to claim a seat at the royal table.The service was a marathon of grief. Multiple people stepped up to the mahogany pulpit to deliver eulogies. Eleanor’s was a dramatic performance, a masterclass in calculated sorrow. She stood there in a black veil, her voice trembling at just the right moments, dabb

I was shaken awake by a sudden, agonizing soreness in my lower back. It felt as though a boulder had been dropped onto my spine overnight, the weight radiating through my hips. My waist throbbed with a dull, persistent ache—nothing compared to the white-hot labor pains I had endured with Finn, but enough to make every breath feel restricted.The heavy warmth draped across my midsection alerted me to the other presence in the room. I shifted slightly, looking down, and was met with a deep, penetrating gaze. Eric was awake. His dark grey eyes were fixed on me, but they lacked their usual cold steel; instead, they were startlingly calm, as if the storm of the previous night had finally washed him clean.“Go... od morning,” I managed to stammer out, my voice thick with sleep.He didn't reply immediately. He just watched me with that unsettling intensity.“How was your rest?” I tried again, desperate to break the heavy silence that seemed to fill the corners of the room.“It was fine,” he

Eleanor’s PovEleanor sank into the plush leather of the executive chair—a brand new suite she’d ordered the moment she’d moved into Eric’s old office. She had spent the first forty-eight hours purging every single trace of her brother from these four walls. She’d replaced his minimalist art with gilded frames and swapped his mahogany desk for something more "regal." She didn't know how she would maintain her composure if she were constantly reminded of the humiliation she had suffered at his hands.It had been two weeks since her father had taken his last breath, and one week since the cold, hard reality had set in: she was getting absolutely nothing from the Kingston estate.The memory of her meeting with the estate attorney still left a bitter taste in her mouth. She had stormed into his office, clutching the copy of the will like a weapon.“So, is there a way to contest it?” she had asked, leaning over his desk before she’d even sat down.The lawyer, a man who charged more per hou