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2025-06-14 05:19:54
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Affair With My my Ex's Billionaire Father edge
I gripped the edge of the chair beside me and said the only thing I could. My voice wasn’t a whisper, but it wasn’t strong either. It hung in the air like breath before a scream. “You found me.” Milo didn’t smile. Didn’t blink. He took two steps in, slow and steady, the way you approach a ghost you still love. “You wanted to be found,” he said, voice low. “Even if you don’t want to admit it. Even if part of you still thinks you can outrun the ending.” I stared at him, chest tight. “Wanting to be found isn’t the same as being ready to be seen,” I said. And the silence that followed felt like it cut deeper than anything we’d said in months. I took a step forward. It hurt. Everything hurt,my legs, my back, my pride. But I stood tall anyway, like the ache was just part of the costume. “He was all I had left,” I said. The words felt scraped out of me. “Everyt
Affair With My my Ex's Billionaire Father Creaked
The estate creaked in places it never had before.Not from old pipes or the weight of weather,but from something subtler.The way grief lived in silence.It shifted the air.Softened the carpets.Made door hinges groan even when they didn’t move.The house was mourning too.I couldn’t sleep. Not really.I’d been staring at the ceiling for over an hour, tracing the hairline cracks that hadn’t been there yesterday.My hands lay folded over my stomach, like they were waiting for something to return.But nothing was coming.Not dreams. Not peace. Just the steady weight of breath in a body that refused to shut down.My chest rose and fell like I was practicing being alive.And maybe I was.Every inhale tasted stale. Every exhale felt like surrender.I wasn’t crying. But my ribs ached like I had been for hours.Down the hall, the light under Milo’s door hadn’t gone out.So
Affair With My my Ex's Billionaire Father Van
I didn’t move when the van pulled up. My arms locked over my chest, nails digging crescent moons into my sleeves. My jaw stayed clenched until the ache started to bloom behind my ears. It was either that,or let something leak out.The rear doors creaked open.Two men stepped forward, their movements stiff with quiet precision. No wasted motion. No words exchanged. They reached inside and lifted the casket like they’d done it a hundred times.It didn’t make a sound as they brought it down. No thud. No rattle. Just the whisper of polished wood against metal rails. I used to imagine holding him in my arms. A blanket. A lullaby. His father's eyes. My hands around his tiny body, warm and alive.But this was a different kind of cradle now.It didn’t make a sound as they brought it down. No thud. No rattle. Just the whisper of polished wood against metal rails.I stared at it, waiting for something,anything,to hit. A nois
Affair With My my Ex's Billionaire Father King
The dungeon was quiet. Not the comforting kind. The kind that seeps,like guilt through stone, like rot through bone.I could feel it in the soles of my boots.Every step I took sounded like it was happening somewhere else,in a memory I didn’t choose to remember,in a nightmare I refused to wake up from.My boots clicked softly against the floor, but inside, I was weightless.Hollow.Like something had been scraped out of me and left behindon a blood-stained blanket that still smelled like lullabies.Ivan looked smaller than I remembered.Sunken.Shivering, not from cold, but from the absence of meaning.His skin clung to the angles of his face like it had given up on him.The bravado was gone.The madness, too.Just a man now.Or the leftover shape of one.But when I entered,when he heard me,his chin lifted.“Emilie,” he rasped.That half-broken voice I once mis
Affair With My my Ex's Billionaire Father Quiet
The dungeon was quiet.Not the kind of quiet that comforts.The kind that breathes. That spreads like damp through stone.It had an echo now. A pulse.I could feel it in the soles of my boots.Every step I took sounded like it was happening somewhere else, in a dream, or a memory, or a graveyard.Ivan looked smaller than I remembered.Hollowed out. Dehydrated.The bravado was gone.The madness, too.Just a man now. Or close enough.But when I entered, when he heard me,his chin lifted.“Emilie,” he rasped, with that half-broken voice I used to mistake for softness.I didn’t speak.I walked forward.The pistol in my hand felt heavier than I expected.Not because of what it meant.But because of what it no longer did.Redemption. Justice. Balance.None of those things lived here.Not anymore.His eyes meet the gun.He didn’t flinc
Affair With My my Ex's Billionaire Father Night one
The dungeon didn’t smell like blood anymore.It smelled like fear.Fermented. Stale. Masculine. Like a man dying slowly from the inside out.Ivan didn’t lift his head when I entered.He’d learned.The sound of my footsteps,bare, deliberate,was its own kind of violence.I didn’t speak. I didn’t need to.Just the clink of the tray I set down was enough: surgical tape, a flame-blade still glowing orange, water I wouldn’t offer.I circled him.His body twitched with every click of my fingernails against the tray.“Tonight,” I said finally, my voice silk wrapped in glass, “I don’t want screams.”I bound his thighs with surgical tape,tight. So tight his pulse fluttered under the skin.No room to wriggle. No room to run. Just raw exposure.Then I pressed the blade to his shoulder. Not to cut. Just to sear.The skin hissed.He gasped. Then shuddered. But he didn’t scream.“Good
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