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Filthy Car Ride

Author: Spicy Candy
last update publish date: 2026-04-09 17:45:42

Roman

I am sitting in the black Maybach with Raven and Aria who is glued to her phone playing some game with bright colors and annoying sounds even through her headphones.

I did everything to get out of this one, to not be closer to Raven because it doesn’t always end well with her but Vivienne insisted we all ride together to the fitting. Some bullshit about family bonding and making sure I’m involved in the wedding planning.

I would rather be anywhere else.

Vivienne sits in the front passenge
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Amelia Santos
Yes, terribly insane!
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    RavenRoman’s private jet waits on the tarmac, its engines already humming as we approach.Roman carries Nadir in his arms while our luggage is rolled behind us by his security team.A few hours later, the pilot begins our descent into Vermont, and I press my face to the window.We fly over rolling hills, endless forests, and scattered farms. My goodness, I’m already sold.When we step off the plane, the crisp air only seals it. It’s peaceful here. From the convoy of SUVs waiting for us, with Roman’s security already in position, to the quiet stretching in every direction, I know this is where I want us to build our life.The photos the realtor sent don’t do the place justice.We turn off the main road onto a long dirt driveway lined with maple trees just beginning to change, gold and red bleeding into green. At the end of it sits a farmhouse with a wraparound porch, its white paint slightly weathered, green shutters framing the windows, and smoke curling lazily from the chimne

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    RomanJames pulls up the long gravel drive, and the ranch stretches out ahead of us, quiet and worn, a few outbuildings already stripped bare, equipment gone from where it must have sat rusting for years before all this.I spot Rebecca near the fence line before she spots me, bent over one of the horses, carefully working something loose from its hoof. She looks up when she hears the car, and something crosses her face, surprise, maybe, before she manages to smooth it over.I get out and walk toward her.“I didn’t think you were going to come,” she says, straightening, wiping her hands on her jeans.“I said I would.”“You didn’t have to. If you didn’t want to.”“If I didn’t want to be here,” I say, “I wouldn’t be.”She studies me for a moment, like she’s trying to decide whether to believe that, and something in her posture softens slightly when she does.“I don’t know how to be a father to you,” I admit, because there’s no version of this conversation where pretending otherw

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  • Is It Wrong I Want Daddy So Bad?    What Keeps You Alive🌶️

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