Forbidden affair with my fiance's Billionaire uncle

~~Elena~~

I need to stop this. No matter how much I crave his touch, nothing will change the fact that he's my fiancé's uncle. This complication isn't just about me, Grandma's life is entangled in it too.

"We need to stop this, Uncle," I said, forcing courage into my voice. I had to draw the line, to remind both him and myself of who he truly was.

Silence filled the night air as he said nothing.

I wondered if he was still here.

I quickly turned, and there he was, his figure standing tall in the shadows.

Then he moved. Slowly. Each step echoed like a warning, deliberate and unhurried.

his hands buried in his pockets, his crisp white sleeves rolled to the elbows, three buttons undone at his collar.

We have to stop," I repeated, my voice barely steady, as if he hadn't heard me the first time. Or maybe I was trying to convince myself more than him.

There was no trace of emotion in his face.he felt so unbothered as if my words meant nothing.

"Is that what you wanted?" he asked, his voice cold yet husky.

My heart sank. That wasn't what I wanted, not truly. But the moment I tried to reply, the words stuck in my throat, and I knew if I spoke, I might regret it forever.

"Alright. I'll stop," he said.

The words cut through me like a blade. They were mine-I had suggested them-yet hearing them from his lips broke something inside me. Because deep down, I craved him more than I could ever admit.

He was a powerful man, Desired, Respected, and surrounded by beautiful women willing to bend to his will. I am sure to him, I was just another temptation easily discarded.

I watched his back as he walked toward the door, every step pulling him further away from me. I could hear my body screaming , at this moment I wanted to run to him, hug him from the back and beg him to stay, to tell him I was just joking.

But I couldn't. Grandma's life still hung in the balance.

I have to let him go. Meeting him was a mistake to begin with.

*****************

I felt the warmth of the morning sun brushing across my face. My eyelid was so heavy as I tried to open it slowly. It's Morning already. I must have cried myself to sleep, because the ache in my chest was still fresh,

"Good morning, ma'am," the maid's voice broke softly into my thoughts. She stood by the door, her tone polite but cautious, as if she could still sense the storm in me.

"The Elder asked you to join the family for breakfast," she added.

For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Breakfast with the family?I just hoped I wouldn't meet him at the dining table.

With trembling hands, I pushed myself up. Instead of heading straight downstairs, I went in to freshen up. The cold splash of water against my face did little to wash away the puffiness of my eyes. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to piece together the version of myself that everyone expected to see, Composed, and Untouched.

I stepped down and noticed he was not there. I sighed in relief.

I walked closer, studying their expressions. The old man had a big smile on his face, warm and welcoming as always. The woman, just like before, made it clear she disliked me, every glance sharp, every movement dripping with judgement.

My fiancé didn't even spare me a glance, as if I care.

"Elena, how was your night? Hope you slept well," the old man said, his wide smile filling the room.

I gave a small nod in response, a simple gesture of greeting, though my mind was spinning. My eyes scanned the dining table-five chairs arranged neatly: two on the right, two on the left, and one at the edge. The old man and his daughter were already seated on the right side, so I decided to join my fiancé on the other side.

The table was a display of wealth and refinement. Golden cutlery, fine porcelain plates were set with delicate patterns, and crystal glasses shimmered. Freshly baked croissants, flaky pastries, and warm bread baskets were placed alongside small dishes of butter, jam, and local Madrid cheeses. A carafe of freshly squeezed orange juice and a steaming pot of café con leche completed the spread.

"You are such a well-behaved girl," the old man added, his voice warm, almost approving.

"She's well-behaved… and she kept us waiting," the woman muttered coldly, her tone dripping with disdain.

"Grandpa, I'm sure you didn't call so early for breakfast. Hope there's some good news," Carlos said, trying to lighten the mood.

"You left your fiancé all alone last night," the old man said, his voice calm and cold.

"Starting from today onward,You have to come home every day because, both of you have to cultivate feelings, so I can see my great-grandson," I almost choked at the old man's voice.

"Wait… what? A child? With this man? Never!"

"Grandpa, I'm not ready to be a father," Carlos said, his tone sharp and disrespectful.

Thank goodness he doesn't want to have a child with me either.

"Uncle!" Carlos said excitedly. My heart sank into my stomach.

Wait… what? He's still around?