Divorcing My Husband Over His Stepsister's Secret novel Chapter 103

Chapter 103

“Oh God.” I felt my face heat up at the embarrassing detail. I swatted at him, but he easily caught my wrist and pulled me against him. His fingers found that sensitive spot at my waist, and I squirmed, trying to escape his tickling.

Our laughter subsided when my stomach growled loudly. We looked at each other and burst out laughing again. Blake pressed a kiss to my forehead, his expression gentler than I’d seen in months.

The next few days passed in a blur. “We’re not even going to see Boston’s sights? I asked at one point.

Blake took my hand and placed it over his heart. “We don’t need scenery. We have each other.”

As it turned out, his idea of a “vacation itinerary consisted almost entirely of bed–related activities: making love in the morning after waking up, making love after lunch, and making love before sleep. In my mental diary, I joked: This man has too much energy. Maybe this is how rich people vacation–spending all their time in luxury hotel beds.

By the fourth night, I found myself reflecting on my complicated feelings for Blake as we lay on the private beach near our hotel.

I’d been so certain my heart was scarred beyond repair, completely frozen when it came to him. Yet here I was, thawing against my better judgment because of simple gestures:

The way he hand–fed me breakfast. How he carried me to the bathroom when my legs were too sore to walk. Opening the curtains at night so I could see the light show on the beach from our bed. Declining Claire’s calls, insisting this vacation was just for the two

of us.

I hated myself for being so easily affected. ‘You’re giving me all this sweetness too late,‘ I thought, even as I nestled closer to him

on the sand.

Each movement, each touch from him felt like a beautiful, dangerous temptation. As a 26–year–old professional woman, I should have known better, but I couldn’t stop myself from falling back into this atmosphere of romance.

Deep down, I knew this rekindled feeling was only possible because we were temporarily removed from reality, away from all the external factors that had poisoned our relationship.

“Darling,” I said, staring up at the stars, “I have an important presentation on the marine conservation project in three days.”

“So soon?” His voice sounded distant.

“It’s been four days already,” I reminded him.

What I didn’t mention was that Boston was already buzzing with gossip.

The night Blake had forcefully taken me away had been captured by one of Claire’s fans and posted on social media, creating negative publicity for Wright Group.

Each night, Blake spent time alone handling work matters, and it seemed to be getting more frequent over the past two days.

The Wright family image meant everything, especially to Blake’s father William, who had dedicated his life to Wright Group and whose heart condition was worsening.

William wouldn’t tolerate any damage to the family business. Blake never mentioned any of this to me, shouldering all the pressure himself.

I’d discovered through my mother’s assistant Daniel that an account called “B&C had been posting negative content about me in Claire’s fan circles. Shockingly, the account belonged to Claire herself. If the Wright Group’s damage could be measured at 100