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Chapter 25
Veröffentlichungsdatum:
26.07.2026 17:22:00Lydia's POV
The silk felt like ice water sliding down my skin.I stood in front of the three-way, floor-to-ceiling mirror in my master dressing room, watching the fabric settle. It was a liquid black, so dark it seemed to swallow the warm gold lighting of the Citadel.The dress was designed with a high, structured halter neckline that emphasized my broad, square shoulders and the sharp, athletic lines of my collarbones, perfectly balancing my inverted triangle frame. Bu
Aktuellstes Kapitel
His fake wife, their real obsession Chapter 45
Lydia’s POV The splintered mahogany door hung askew on its top hinge, wedged tight against the heavy steel frame. Outside in the corridor, the security team’s tools lay abandoned on the carpet, their boots having retreated down the hall the moment Zane’s massive shadow had filled the cracked opening moments before. Now, total silence descended over the VIP green room, broken only by the low, steady rhythm of heavy breathing. The low amber glow from a single overturned floor lamp painted the room in warm gold and deep shadows. I lay back against the deep crimson velvet of the massive sectional sofa, my chest rising and falling in slow, shallow hitches. The breathtaking crimson silk gown was completely destroyed—torn down the side seams, its delicate straps shredded, the heavy fabric pooling around my waist and hips like spilled wine. My skin felt flushed, hot, and sensitive to the touch, glowing under the dim light and thor
His fake wife, their real obsession Chapter 44
Lydia’s POV The second strike from the battering ram split the heavy mahogany panel right above my head. A jagged crack ran down the dark wood, spraying a shower of fine sawdust over Zane’s broad, sweat-slicked shoulders. Outside in the corridor, shouting voices echoed through the splintered gap hotel security guards and frantic event coordinators trying to force the heavy deadbolt. "Clear the hall! The door’s jammed from the inside!" Inside the green room, no one stopped. The chaos on the other side of the wood didn't slow the feral storm inside; it amplified it into an absolute, suffocating frenzy. Cassian slammed his hands flat against the mahogany frame on either side of my head, his massive chest heaving as he lifted my right leg higher, locking my knee over his shoulder. He didn't offer a single second of hesitation. He drove his hips forward, burying his thick, burning length straight to my absolu
His fake wife, their real obsession Chapter 42
Lydia’s PoV The heavy steel security door of the private exit slammed shut, the heavy brass bolt shooting home with a thick, definitive thud that cut off the distant roar of the ballroom like a knife slicing through canvas.The VIP green room behind the main stage was huge, bathed in a low, suffocating red glow from two velvet-shaded floor lamps. Deep crimson velvet lined the walls, absorbing every sound except the heavy, ragged cadence of four people breathing in the dim light.My back hit the polished mahogany of the closed doors. The cold wood bit into the bare skin of my spine, sending a violent shiver straight down through my hips. The adrenaline from the courtroom drop, the gala stage, and Clara’s collapsing body hadn't dissipated it had curdled in my blood, turning into a hot, thick, primal hunger that made my pulse hammer behind my ears.Before I could draw a full breath, Cassian filled my vision.His massive frame blocked out the res
His fake wife, their real obsession Chapter 43
Lydia’s POV The brass lock on the mahogany door rattled once from the outside, a muffled jiggle of a master key against the tumbler, but the heavy deadbolt held fast under the weight of our bodies. Outside in the corridor, a muffled voice called out, lost to the thick, soundproofed velvet lining the walls. Inside, the green room remained an inferno of copper, sweat, and heavy, suffocating heat. "Ignore the door," Kian commanded. His voice wasn't the smooth, analytical tone he used in the boardroom; it was low, raspy, and stripped of all corporate restraint. My back was pressed flat against the mahogany panels. The cool wood offered zero relief against the fever burning through my skin. I couldn't move. Cassian held both of my wrists gathered in one of his massive, calloused hands, pinning them high above my head against the doorframe. His knuckles dug into the wood, locking my arms in place while his chest h
His fake wife, their real obsession Chapter 41
Lydia’s POVThe high-pitched, rhythmic wail of an approaching siren pierced through the heavy double doors of the Regency, growing louder until the flashing red and blue strobe lights painted the ballroom’s high arched windows in a chaotic, bloody rhythm. Paramedics in dark blue uniforms swarmed the center floor, their heavy black boots thudding against the polished parquet. The crowd parted like a severed wave, wealthy socialites in tuxedos and silk gowns pressing themselves back against the linen-draped tables to avoid the rolling stretcher. Clara Miller lay motionless on the canvas gurney, her head tilted awkwardly back, the three strands of South Sea pearls crushed beneath her chin. An oxygen mask was strapped tightly over her mouth, fogging with every thin, shallow breath she managed to draw. Flashbulbs from the lingering press line exploded in a relentless, blinding tempest, illuminating the dark, sagging lines
His fake wife, their real obsession Chapter 40
Lydia’s POVThe silence in the ballroom became absolute, suffocating, and total. Every single head in the room slowly turned away from the stage, away from the screens, and snapped directly back toward the head table. I set my champagne glass down on the white linen, took my time picking up my linen napkin to gently dab the corner of my lips, and then slowly stood up. The crimson silk of my gown caught the blue glow of the screens, making me look like a figure carved out of fire and ice. I looked across the small expanse at Clara Miller, whose hands were now trembling so violently she dropped the microphone onto the floor with a loud, hollow thud. "You spoke of virtue and the law, Clara," I said, my voice carrying into every quiet corner of the frozen ballroom, smooth, deadly, and entirely unyielding. "So tell us... how much did virtue cost you in the Cayman Islands this week?" The sudden, unnatural silence in the grand
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