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A Little hope
Last Updated:
2025-11-12 13:48:17
Latest chapter
Duplicity Of Desire: Bound To The Wrong Man Back to forbidden desire
Ruth's POV Warm water cascaded down my skin, washing away the streaks of dried paint that clung stubbornly to me. The colors swirled at my feet before vanishing down the drain, leaving me clean but not entirely free. Even beneath the steady hum of the shower, my mind was anything but quiet. I tried to scrub away the heaviness that had settled in my chest all day, but guilt and confusion weren’t as easily removed as paint.By the time I went downstairs for dinner, my damp hair was twisted into a loose bun, and I wore one of the plain dresses Adrian preferred. The dining room lights cast a soft golden hue across the long table. Adrian sat at the head as usual, his expression sharp and unreadable, while Damian lounged opposite him, silent and detached. The air was tense dense enough to choke on. Whatever invisible battle was happening between the two of them, I didn’t want to be in the middle of it. I quietly took a seat at the far end, keeping a polite distance.“Tomorrow, you and I wi
Duplicity Of Desire: Bound To The Wrong Man Live in the moment
Ruth's POV I wanted to scream that he was wrong, that Adrian had changed. But deep down, I feared Damian was right.I pushed him away, shaking my head as I got out of bed. “This is the last time,” I said, voice trembling but firm. “We stick to the agreement. Nothing more.”He didn’t stop me as I wrapped the duvet around myself and walked out. The maids glanced at me as I passed through the hallway, but none of them looked surprised. They all knew about the arrangement the twisted, humiliating agreement between the Delacroix brothers and me.In the bathroom, I turned on the shower and stepped under the scalding water. I stayed there for an hour, hoping the heat would wash away the guilt, the confusion, the ache between my thighs that still throbbed for Damian. I didn’t want him. Yet I did. And I hated myself for it. Why did I want both brothers?When I emerged, clean but emotionally wrecked, Adrian was sitting in our bedroom, his elbows on his knees, staring blankly at the bathroom do
Duplicity Of Desire: Bound To The Wrong Man A Little hope
Ruth’s POVIt has been a week since my husband decided to turn a new leaf one full of apologies, promises, and the illusion of change and I can’t deny that part of me wants so desperately to believe him. For seven days, Adrian has smiled more, raised his voice less, and treated me like something more than a vessel meant to bear his heir and keep his good name.But when night falls and he climbs into our bed, the old selfishness returns like an unwanted shadow. He still reaches for me not with tenderness, but with hunger the kind that begins and ends with his own satisfaction. He never lingers to touch, to taste, to make me feel. Once he’s had his release, he rolls over, breathless and spent, leaving me cold in every way that matters.“Earth to Ruth.” Damian’s voice snapped me back to reality. He flicked his fingers in front of my face, the corners of his lips lifting in a teasing smirk that always manages to undo me. I clutched the duvet tighter against my chest and turned to face him
Duplicity Of Desire: Bound To The Wrong Man Trying to change
Adrian’s POV I made a decision this morning the moment I opened my eyes: I was going to start acting like a husband. Not just for appearances, not just to maintain the Delacroix image, no, I wanted to care for Ruth and I needed to watch her.I don’t have proof yet not enough to confront either of them but I’m not blind. I’ve seen the glances that linger too long, the way footsteps retreat when I enter a room. I can’t even blame her entirely. I opened the door for Damian. I brought him into our home. Into her life, I'm the reason she's cheating on me.When Ruth fled to the bathroom, I stayed outside long enough to hear the sink running, to know she was trying to erase whatever she was feeling. I brought her upstairs and held her because the guilt in her eyes was confirmation enough.But when I returned to the dining room, Damian was gone. His chair sat slightly pulled back, the newspaper abandoned in the seat. I didn’t need to wonder where he’d gone I could trace his path through wall
Duplicity Of Desire: Bound To The Wrong Man Sudden guilt
Song recommended for this chapter: Dynasty by MiiaRuth’s POVMy legs felt unsteady as I climbed the stairs, each step threatening to buckle beneath the weight of what I’d just done. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. When I reached the bedroom, Adrian was standing by the wardrobe, flipping through shirts, already changed into his sleepwear. He glanced toward me, his brows folding just slightly, suspicion flickering behind his eyes but, as usual, he said nothing.I didn’t trust my voice, so I hurried into the bathroom, closing the door before he could ask where I’d been. The mirror caught my reflection, flushed cheeks, wild eyes, lips swollen from Damian’s mouth minutes ago. My pulse drummed in my ears as I stripped and stepped under the shower. The water was cold, biting into my skin, but maybe I needed to feel that sting.I scrubbed myself fast, as if the water could wash away the guilt lodged in my chest. When I emerged, wrapped in a towel and breathing unevenly, Adrian was already in
Duplicity Of Desire: Bound To The Wrong Man Date with my husband and s*x with his brother
Ruth’s POVAdrian and I had a dinner date today. Truthfully, all I wanted was to stay buried beneath my sheets, hidden from the world, letting exhaustion cradle me until sleep pulled me under again. But my wants had never mattered, not in this marriage, and certainly not when Adrian demanded appearances. So I forced myself out of bed, painted my face with makeup, and slipped into the red dress I had chosen.It was simple yet elegant, tight enough to hug the curve of my breasts and stomach, flowing free from the waist down so it swayed with each step. The neckline pushed my breasts upward, subtle but intentional, because Adrian valued presentation. I paired it with a gold watch, a delicate chain resting on my collarbone, and matching gold shoes with a small clutch bag. The mirror showed a woman perfectly put together, but inside I still felt hollow.The car ride to the restaurant was quiet. Not hostile, just the kind of silence that presses in but doesn’t suffocate. Peaceful, even, whic
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