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Chapter 88
Wyatt
I approach the hybrid town through the forest with my skin bleeding and pants leaving my body. My exhaustion is rising, and my thoughts are scattered, running wild with worry as I clutch Maeve to my body. She was so close to dying. Shit. I will never let her go again, never look away!
"Wyatt..." Maeve chuckles a little. Her head slumps to my shoulder, where she rests with her eyes closed. It's beyond me how she can appear so peaceful after what we have survived. "You can slow down. No one is chasing us, and we are both alive."
"But you are-..." I stop talking, confused about the growing smile on Maeve's lips. Why does she seem so entertained? It's annoying not to know!
"I'm what?" Her hand strokes over my chest, and she digs her cheek into my naked skin, inhaling my scent. My heart swells. I care about her so much, and she is injured because of me. "Well… I'm alive, Wyatt. I'm grateful for that, and if I'm blind, then so what? At least you ca
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Maeve Wyatt gently places me down on a bed. The innkeeper told us to get some rest before she attempts to heal my eyes. She used up most of her stamina, patching up my wounds and stopping the bleeding—it no longer feels like I'm leaking. "I shouldn't have brought you with me," Wyatt says as he crashes down behind me. "It's my fault that Bob and Garett died." His sheer weight got me tumbling into him, and his arm falls over me, holding me in place. It sounds like he is crying. It breaks my heart because I feel at ease with him, safe. He is like a giant teddy bear, but right now, he is vulnerable, and it tears me apart. I suck oxygen into my lungs, fully aware of my heartache. "Hey," I whisper at Wyatt, holding his shaking hand. "It's not your fault that they died—we didn't know Marcus had a bomb, and Bob made his own decision to save me." "I know, I'm just..." He is breathing into my neck with his curly locks brushing against me. It tickles. I
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Maeve We have spent one week in the hybrid village. I haven't recovered entirely yet, and I'm not sure if I ever will. We are giving the magical healing thing one more day before giving up and accepting that I'm blind. The world is scary when everything is dark, but things still feel light even if my vision is gone. Like my feet when I'm around Wyatt. We have talked things out and decided to become a couple. Even though I'm blind, he is still the sexiest man on earth. And me being blind isn't precisely a handicap—now I can freely grope him, squeeze his super-hero muscles, and blame it on being blind. It makes him laugh every time, especially when I was using that excuse when I was licking his abs yesterday. And fuck me. Wyatt seriously has the mightiest abs, like rocks inserted into his body and then draped over with human skin. He is seriously so gorgeous—a sex god sent to earth. Flames sear within me—merely thinking about having Wyatt to mys
Kidnapped By The Mafia Boss Chapter 91 - The End (Ryan POV)
Ryan My memory is foggy. The last thing I remember is that uncomfortable hospital bed with my five grandkids crying and holding my hands. Maeve was smiling sadly from a chair in the far back, and Wyatt leaned in to whisper: "I love you, dad." Did I die? I glance down at my hands, oddly aware that I'm not dreaming. My wrinkles are there, but my back pain is gone. How peculiar. What is this place? I've never been here before, yet I feel at ease. And the air is so fresh, like apples, a rainy day, and the ocean breeze combined. Breathing it in is like experiencing a rebirth, and I look ahead, wondering what I might find if I keep walking. Carefully, I walk forward, lifting my head to be blown away by the waterfalls crashing down and landing nowhere. "This place sure is beautiful... Like a dream..." The sky is darker than black, but the flowers on the floor, growing on the walls of the mountain in clutches—they are glowing in these
Kidnapped By The Mafia Boss Chapter 1
Amelia I was never supposed to find out that I'm not an original person but a literal clone of my father's daughter, who tragically passed away in a car accident. He gave me the same name as her, Amelia, and raised me like he had his precious daughter. When I pick up picture frames, Amelia, the original one, looks so much like me that it disturbs me to the point I feel sick. Her chocolate brown hair had perhaps been a bit longer, reaching down all the way to her hips, but we share the exact thin and fragile figure because girls of our class are expected to sit still and play the piano, not run around like boisterous kids and play in the garden. I believe the original Amelia preferred that tranquil life. And my father hoped I would turn out the same way, but what he didn't count on was for me to end up different—I love dogs and the outside world, while the original Amelia hated all animals. Of course, that was only the beginning of my personality spira
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White debris flies everywhere, and then a hand comes in through the cracks, unlocking the bathroom door from the outside. My father's presence is enough to pour gasoline onto the spark of terror within me, and then it turns into a flame. He is such a rotten man. All I ever did was offer him my hand, a smile, and my heart, but this man can't be satisfied. My father is a perfectionist, constantly searching for new reasons to hate me, punish me for not being like her, the original Amelia. "Did you think you could get away from me?" My father snorts as if someone had said something funny. My blood runs cold. "Looks like someone needs to be taught some manners!" The imposing man approaches, and I hold my breath as the fight or flight response kicks in. Part of me wants to try skipping past my father, while the brighter part of my brain knows I can't win against him; he is too big and too darn strong. Why did he even pick a fight, to begin with? I h
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The voice supposedly belonging to Ryan is sexy and deep, giving him an air of solid confidence, and gosh, his vocals are so easy on the ears that speaking suddenly got more challenging. "Ryan?" I croak and feel my cheeks heat up when I hear my own echo in the background. Embarrassingly enough, I had sounded more like a frog than a girl. "Yeah?" Ryan appears amused. "Did you worry someone else might have called you?" "No, I just... How are you?" I inwardly facepalm myself for my awkwardness. "I'm good, excellent, actually. I came home from the gym mere minutes ago, and now I'm making myself some dinner," Ryan seems like a very extroverted person, the opposite of me. "Is everything good with you?" His question isn't a hard one, yet I'm experiencing a brain freeze. The sound of something getting cooked in the background is the first thing I notice when the silence folds, along with the fact Ryan likes to hum to himself. "Y
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The last couple of days have been the best ones in my life. Where melancholy once raged, there are sparkles of hope, and it grows every time I open one of Ryan's messages. Ryan has blown my mind. He is sexy, funny, and supposedly hot, according to himself. I can't remember how I went through a day in the mansion without him humoring me during the day. And at night, god the man knows how to make me laugh with his perverted humor and desire to get to know the real me, Amelia the clone. Simply thinking about Ryan sets my heart on a furious fire capable of even burning down my inner fears. I no longer care or cry when my father hurts me because I know Ryan will be there later to cheer me up. Whenever I talk with Ryan, happiness skitters along my skin like the feet of young children, the man is the kindest soul I've ever spoken with. And I'm falling hard and fast—it's almost scary. I've been locked inside my room for what feels like eternities, but things
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The fancy limousine smells like musky sweat and cigars. There isn't a single stain on the entire interior, which is somewhat surprising considering Ryan is smoking inside the car while singing along to the lyrics of "feeling good" by Michael Buble.I turn to the men sitting packed like fish in their seats; they are all curiously listening to someone telling them their life story."So, I noticed Isabella was texting someone, right? Her damn phone kept vibrating every fucking night, and she was very secretive about it," A man named Billy is shaking his head, while the other men are waiting for him to continue his story. "And so when I came home early one day, I found her in our bed together with Fernando, her freaking masseur!""Oh shit!" Someone exclaims. "Fucking whore!""And then what did you do?" Another one asks, biting his nails while staring at Billy."Yeah, what did you do, Billy?""You murdered the damn guy, right?" A guy bigger than a bear
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