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Chapter 70 : The Fight
Last Updated:
2025-09-04 00:36:28
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Craving The Enemy's Husband Chapter 82: Kill?
Chapter 82: Kill?**Christiana’s POV** The kitchen tilted, spinning around me. My knees nearly buckled under the weight of the words. Her words rang in my ears, louder than the frantic rasp of my own breath. The same way I killed his mother? No. No, it couldn’t be true. Diane Adams had died in an accident. A horrible, bloody tragedy, yes, but still an accident. Hadn’t she? I stared up at Bella through wide, panicked eyes, searching her expression for a lie, for a tell, for anything that would prove this was another one of her cruel games. But there was nothing, no smirk, no mocking laugh. Only cold certainty staring back at me. She had killed Diane and now she was threatening me. My chest heaved, each breath scraping down my throat like glass. For the first time since I had set my sights on Bella Calamida, since I had sworn to destroy her, I felt fear. Real, bone-deep fear “You… killed her?” The words came out cracked, broken, more like a child’s whimper than a challenge. For
Craving The Enemy's Husband Chapter 81: Murderer
Chapter 81: Murderer **Christiana’s POV** The house continued drowning in mourning. “Bryan,” I said softly, almost in a whisper, “maybe you should lie down for a while. Just a little time away from everyone.” I walked beside him, close enough that my arm brushed his sleeve, close enough that if he faltered, I could catch him. The climb up the stairs felt endless, each step echoing with the quiet sobs of the staff below, with Bella’s false voice weaving its way through condolences, too loud, too practiced. At the top, I touched his arm gently. “Go. Rest. I’ll take care of things down here.” He turned to me then, his eyes red-rimmed but so full of something raw it made my throat tighten. “Christiana…” The way he said my name nearly broke me. I wanted to hold him again, to shield him from everything and everyone, but I forced myself to step back. This wasn’t the moment to lose more control. I stayed close to him as he made his way up the grand staircase, his steps slow, uneven.
Craving The Enemy's Husband Chapter 80: Poor Bryan
Chapter 80: Poor Bryan**Christiana’s POV** I got to work a bit late because I arrived from Bella’s mom’s place a bit late and slept late trying to connect the dots of her having a son. I noticed Bryan wasn’t in his office. That was unlike him, he didn’t tell me he had any prior meetings. I sat on my desk when Ben came to be, crying. I have never seen a man cry that way, I thought they hide when they cry? “She’s dead” he said as he cried the more, it was so loud I wanted to shut him up, but my heart raced faster when I processed his word. Who is dead? It spread like smoke through dry grass. Diane Adams was dead. All I could think of was Bryan. I could see it in my mind even before anyone said it aloud, he was carrying grief like it was another duty, refusing to let the world see the break in his armor. He could be like that, enduring, silent, contained. And I knew if I didn’t go to him, if I didn’t show him he wasn’t alone, he would shatter behind closed doors where no one could
Craving The Enemy's Husband Chapter 79: Grief
Chapter 79: Grief **Bryan’s POV** I had been in my study, half-slumped in the chair, papers scattered around me like the aftermath of a battle I hadn’t cared to finish fighting. My head had been nodding forward, my body betraying the exhaustion I had refused to acknowledge. My phone buzzed on my desk and it irritated, I didn’t even glance at it. Late evening calls were never good. Usually some refinery manager with another pointless report, some crisis that wasn’t really a crisis. My hand hovered, indecisive, ready to let it go to voicemail, but just as much as I wanted to ignore, I felt the sudden urgency to pick it up. “Mr. Adams,” a man’s voice said, low and careful “Yes.” “I am calling from Baylor St. Luke’s Medical Center.” He said like he was holding something fragile. “It’s about your mother.” My throat closed instantly, my back straightened in the chair. “What about her?” There was a pause long enough for dread to settle into my bones like ice. I just knew it was bad
Craving The Enemy's Husband Chapter 78: Bella’s Mom
Chapter 78: Bella’s Mom**Christiana’s POV** Bella’s mom’s house smelled terribly. I tried not to act it but I couldn’t help it, I used my palms on my nose occasionally and I tried to hold my breath but it wasn’t even working. The living room looked like it had been assembled from leftovers no one else wanted. A sagging brown couch sat opposite a battered coffee table scarred with cigarette burns and ringed with water stains. On the table: an overflowing ashtray, several empty beer bottles, a chipped mug with something unidentifiable crusted inside. She didn’t bother apologizing for the mess. Instead, she moved across the room with the slow, deliberate sway of someone who’d owned the space long enough to forget it was falling apart. Dropping into a faded armchair, she lounged into it like it was a throne. “Sit,” she said, flicking ash into the tray and gesturing vaguely toward the couch. “I don’t have tea if that’s what you’re hoping for.” “I didn’t come for tea.” That earned me
Craving The Enemy's Husband Chapter 77: A Revelation
Chapter 77: A Revelation *Christiana’s POV* I decided to take advantage of this weekend to be a step closer to my mission. Tony had borrowed me his car when I promised him one of my Dad’s sedan. Does he have to be such a gold digger? The deeper I drove into the old district, the more it felt like I was shedding years in reverse The clean lines of the city, the polished streets, the glass towers that caught the sunlight in sharp, expensive angles had vanished behind me like they’d never existed. Here, the roads sagged under years of neglect. The asphalt was cracked and buckled, riddled with potholes deep enough to snap an axle if you weren’t careful. My tires dipped into them with low, complaining thuds, the steering wheel shivering under my palms. The houses leaned slightly, as if the ground beneath them had shifted over time and no one bothered to set them straight again. The air hung heavy with the metallic scent of rain-soaked earth even though the sky was dry, layered with
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