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Chapter 8 Zeta…
Last Updated:
2025-12-08 02:37:55
Latest chapter
Fifteen Years of Craving The Wrong Love Chapter 10
Lyssa POVMarcus scrambles to his feet, his face twisted in rage as he wipes another blood off his mouth. He wipes it away with the back of his hand and lunges at Zeta, grabbing him by the collar. “You hit me? Over her? She’s destroying you, man!”Zeta doesn’t back down, even though he’s still wobbly from all the drinking. He shoves Marcus hard, his voice cold. “Back off, Marcus. I won’t say it again.”I rush between them, my hands up, trying to push them apart. “Stop it! Both of you! This isn’t helping anyone!”Marcus swings his arm wildly to shove me out of the way, and his push catches me right in the chest. I stumble backward, my leg catching on the curb, and I go flying to the ground. Pain shoots through my elbow as it scrapes against the ground, and I feel a sharp pain on my knee too. “Ouch.” I wince.The moment I reach the floor, Zeta’s eyes flash with that calm, dangerous fire I’ve seen before, the kind that says he’s holding back but could snap if pushed. He turns away fro
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Lyssa POV I rush over to Zeta, my heart pounding in a messy way. Seeing him that way? slumped there on the couch, looking like a broken version of himself, I drop to my knees in front of him, grabbing his hands. They’re cold and shaky. “Zeta, what happened? Talk to me. Please.” He lifts his head slowly, his eyes red and swollen, but he doesn’t say a word at first. Marcus stops pacing behind him and turns to me, his face twisted in frustration. “He’s been like this for over 24 hours, Lyssa. Won’t eat a damn thing. Just drinking himself stupid. I tried getting food for him, but he pushes it away every time. Says he doesn’t deserve it or some crap like that.” I squeeze Zeta’s hands tighter, trying to pull him back from whatever hole he’s in. “Zeta, come on. What happened? Why are you doing this to yourself?” He stares at me for a long moment, his voice coming out rough and slurred. “What are you doing here? Go back home.” He slurred. His words hit me, I really can’t help see
Fifteen Years of Craving The Wrong Love Chapter 8 Zeta…
Lyssa POVI keep wondering what must have gone wrong between the two of them this time. Zeta and Isabella were always a ticking bomb, two love birds until the exact moment something happens, leaving everyone around them to deal with it.Even now, as drunk as I was a few minutes ago, the memories start hitting me one by one. Memories of long before Isabella got her master’s admission. Memories of how her actions always made Zeta question his worth.At 16, Zeta was 21. I remember him seeing her with richer, older, more influential men, men she always claimed she had to meet because of her father’s business connections.“Zeta, you know who my father is,” she used to say, flipping her perfect hair. “I can’t help it if important people want to take me out. It’s business.”And Zeta would cry every single time. He always had no choice but to let her be. To him, she’s right. He can’t deprive her of meeting new people.The memory annoys me. Even at my younger age then, I knew the difference b
Fifteen Years of Craving The Wrong Love Chapter 7 Let Go Mr. Stranger
Lyssa POV Later that evening, I wanted to feel better. The apartment felt suffocating. I needed air. I needed noise to distract my anxiety. I needed to forget. So I dress in the tightest black dress I own, the one Zeta always said made my curve look endless, did my makeup and took an Uber to Eclipse, the hottest club downtown that I’ve never been brave enough to step into alone. The line outside was insane, but the bouncer took one look at me, smirked, and lifted the velvet rope. Guess heartbreak looks good on me tonight. Inside, the music hit so loud. Purple and blue lights flashed across sweaty bodies, the bass thumped so hard I felt it in my ear drum. I pushed my way straight to the bar and didn’t stop. “Hey! Three shots of Patrón,” I told the bartender. He lifted an eyebrow but poured them anyway. I slammed all three back-to-back, the tequila burning a beautiful path down my throat. Then I ordered three more. And a vodka cranberry. And another. And another. I los
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Lyssa POVI stare blankly at my screen, lost, forgotten, my eyes forming those tears again as my thoughts drift back to Isabella.She’s better than me in every single way. I hate admitting it, but it’s the truth. She’s the kind of woman people write books about. Isabella Vanderbilt, yes, those Vanderbilts, comes from the richest family in America. Her dad owns half the skyscrapers in Manhattan and a couple of islands I can’t even pronounce. Her mom is on the board of every museum and charity that matters. Isabella grew up with private jets before breakfast and summers in the south of France. She went to boarding schools in Switzerland, then Yale for undergrad, graduated summa cum laude at twenty, and just finished her master’s in Artificial Intelligence and Machine Learning at MIT last month. MIT. The girl built an app in high school that got bought for nine figures, it was all over the media a couple of weeks ago. She’s literally a genius wrapped in Chanel.And God, she’s beautifu
Fifteen Years of Craving The Wrong Love Chapter 5 The Pain I Hid
Lyssa POV I interrupt, raising a brow. “Wow, I’ll be so rich.” He pauses. I take a pen. Roland stares at me like I’ve grown a second head. Of course wondering how happy I am instead of crying. I shrug casually. “Honestly, I think I’ll enjoy my new rich single-girl era.” His eyes stayed blank, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face, concern? confusion? disbelief? Probably all of the above.I look up at him, my lips curving out a smile. “Thank you.”I hold out my hand. “I’ll sign everything now.” I say.Soon, I sign the papers and he left.Then the dam breaks, I can’t possibly let anyone see me crying here. I make it to my room just in time, slamming the door, locking it, sliding down the wood until my back hits the floor. The first sob is silent, just a sharp inhale that rips my throat in emotional pain. The second one isn’t. They come hard and ugly, choking as I struggle to breath, my shoulders shaking, fists pressed against my mouth so the maids won’t hear.I c
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