My Boss's Hidden Heir (Elara and Marcus) novel Chapter 44

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13:56 Tue, May 12 M

The Better Brother

Chapter 44 The Papers

WILLOW

Then, much to my shock, Rocco began giggling like a giddy teenage girl.

“Were you watching?” I demanded, my voice somewhere between accusation and humiliation.

“Yes,” he admitted shamelessly. “I was watching with you.”

“With me?” I repeated, mortified.

Frasherf

He nodded, his teasing grin widening. “It would have been rude not to appreciate the view. Mr. Tristan Hale does have a very good body.”

“Rocco!” I exclaimed, feeling my face burn.

“What?” he asked innocently.

“You were nearly drooling,” he added. “You almost got caught by him, too. That was a good catch near the end.”

I placed my hand over my chest. “Excuse me, Rocco. I was merely observing. I wasn’t even looking at him! I was just–just looking at the view.”

“You were observing for a long time,” he continued to tease. “Along with that, the view is not on that side of the window. It’s here.”

He walked to the window near him and opened it, gesturing to the beautiful view of the mountains.

I pursed my lips in disbelief that this was happening. I could still feel his stare on me, and when I turned to look at him, he wiggled his eyebrows.

I squealed internally and threw myself onto the bed, dragging the blanket over my head like a child hiding from the world.

Rocco’s laughter filled the room.

“It is all right, Miss Willow,” he said between chuckles. “You are young. He is young and very hot as well.”

“Please stop,” I groaned from beneath the blanket.

“And.” he continued mercilessly, “you two are rumored to be together.”

The blanket slipped from my face immediately.

I turned to him slowly. “You know?”

He shrugged casually. “How could I not know? The photo is everywhere on the internet. Even my daughters are talking about it. They are terribly disappointed that he is dating someone.”

“They have apparently admired him for years,” Rocco said with exaggerated seriousness. “Imagine their heartbreak

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13:56 Tue, May 12 M.

Chapter 44 The Papers

I sat up, my heart pounding. “How did you know it was me in that photo?”

Finished

He raised a brow. “Well, I recognized your suit even if it was dark and blurry. I must say, though–it wasn’t that obvious.”

“When I saw the photo, I knew right away it was you,” Rocco added gently. “It made sense. You were together that day. You left together to get some coffee.”

Horror flooded me.

“I did not tell anyone,” he quickly reassured, noticing my expression. “I would never do that. Your privacy is important to me.”

I exhaled slowly, relief washing over me.

“Thank you.” I whispered.

He nodded, then wisely gave me a bit of space.

I leaned back against the pillows and stared at the ceiling.

The room suddenly felt too quiet.

“Rocco,” I said softly.

“Yes?”

“Do you think I’m a bad person?”

He did not hesitate. “You are far from it.”

I swallowed.

“You are a good person,” he continued firmly. “Even though you were not raised by the Florence family itself, you carry Sir William’s kindness. You carry his sense of responsibility, too. I knew that the moment I met you.”

His words comforted me, but they did not erase the pressure in my chest.

I turned onto my side, leaning against my palms.

“But I am ogling another man,” I admitted. “When I am technically still married.”

The word still felt foreign in my mouth.

I did not tell him about the other things I had done, of course. The touches. The kisses. The way my body had responded so willingly to Tristan’s presence. Those memories were mine alone, far too complicated to share.

I did not think I could confess them to anyone.

Rocco sighed.

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13:56 Tue, May 12

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Fished

Chapter 44 The Papers

“No, of course not,” he said firmly. “You are not wrong. Marcus Hale cheated on you–repeatedly, based on my investigation.”

I sighed, already aware of it.

“And,” Rocco added, a faint smirk appearing, “you will not be married for much longer.”

My eyes snapped to him.

He walked toward the small leather bag he had placed near the dresser earlier. I had forgotten about it entirely.

He opened it calmly before pulling out a thick envelope.

My heart stopped.

“They are ready,” he said gently.

For a moment, I could not move. Then I stood from the bed slowly, my legs slightly unsteady, and walked toward him.

He placed the envelope in my hands.

It felt heavier than paper should.

I opened it carefully.

Divorce papers.

My name stared back at me in clean, unforgiving print. So did Marcus’s,

The language was formally outlined as infidelity and emotional neglect, all very valid grounds for dissolution.

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