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The Lies We Rehearse
Last Updated:
2025-06-08 06:11:17
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My Bestie’s Mom, My Obsession Her Body, His Lies
The night didn’t feel real.Cassandra lay awake in Ethan’s arms, his breathing slow and steady against her shoulder. But she wasn’t asleep. Couldn’t be. Not after the letter. Not after hearing that single, chilling sentence.“You were never meant to survive me.”She touched Ethan’s hand where it rested against her stomach. His warmth anchored her.Yet the fear crept back.Fear that nothing Whitlock said was ever accidental. That even in death, he was guiding her next move.Ethan stirred.“Cass?” His voice was hoarse.She whispered, “Tell me again.”“Tell you what?”“That I’m free.”Ethan pressed a kiss to her shoulder blade. “You’re free.”“I want to believe that.”“Then let me show you.”She rolled toward him in the dark, eyes glossy. Their faces close, breath mingling.“I need to feel something real tonight.”“You will,” he promised.He kissed her softly, but with depth, his tongue sliding against hers until her body responded, a slow, molten ache between her thighs.She let him gui
My Bestie’s Mom, My Obsession A Body, A Name, A Lie
The sound of the gunshot didn’t echo.It thudded.Heavy. Final.Rowena’s glass dropped from her fingers before her body did.She hit the floor hard, eyes wide, lips parted, blood blooming beneath her shoulder like a dark rose.Harper Sr. didn’t scream.He didn’t reach for her.He stood frozen, mouth trembling, staring at the girl holding the gun.“You’re dead,” he whispered.The girl’s lips twitched. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”She stepped forward, lowering the pistol.“She’s not dead,” she said, nodding to Rowena. “Not yet. I was aiming to maim. You don’t kill a snake that fast.”Rowena groaned on the floor, hand clamped to her shoulder.“Who… who the hell are you?” she rasped.The girl crouched beside her and whispered something no one else could hear.Rowena’s eyes widened.Then filled with tears.Harper Sr. took a step back. “This is impossible.”“No,” the girl said. “It’s just buried. Like all your secrets.”She pulled a phone from her coat pocket and tossed it on the table.
My Bestie’s Mom, My Obsession The Empire’s Real Heir
The world wasn’t quiet anymore.Not for Cassandra.Even in the stillness of Claire’s guest room, no cameras, no microphones, no whispers, she heard it all. The weight of revelations. The scream of the past echoing through her skull like a never-ending bell.She lay beside Ethan in bed, watching him sleep. One arm draped over her waist. His breath slow. Peaceful.She wondered how long the peace would last.Because her mother had lied.Her lover’s father had funded the man who ruined her life.And somewhere out there, Whitlock’s legacy wasn’t dead. It was evolving.When her phone buzzed, she already knew who it would be.Claire: Call me. Urgent. Now.Cassandra slipped out from under the covers, careful not to wake Ethan. She padded barefoot into the bathroom, locked the door, and called.Claire picked up instantly.“There’s something you need to see,” she said.“More blood?”“Worse.”Minutes later, Cassandra was staring at the screen of Claire’s laptop, a scan of a sealed document: Esta
My Bestie’s Mom, My Obsession A Body for the Truth
The room felt like it was closing in.Cassandra sat on Claire’s living room floor, the file folder open beside her, her fingers shaking over the official seal.Her whole life, her trauma, her silence, her shame, had been justified by one belief,That she was a victim.Not a product.Not a bloodline.But now?Now, she knew.Whitlock hadn’t just chosen her.He had created her.Claire sat across from her, silent, watching. Waiting. There were no words left.“I want to burn it all,” Cassandra whispered. “My journals. The documentaries. The interviews. All of it.”Claire didn’t speak.Cassandra’s voice grew hoarse. “He didn’t just touch me. He made me. He built me. I was his masterpiece.”She stood too fast, nearly stumbling.“I need air.”“Cass…” Claire reached for her.But Cassandra was already gone.The door slammed behind her.Across the city, Jason stood in a police interrogation room. His hands were still red from trying to stop Lila’s bleeding. The front of his shirt stained with he
My Bestie’s Mom, My Obsession Poisoned by the Past
The message on Ethan’s phone glowed like a curse:“You think the past is buried? It’s not. And what’s coming… will tear you apart.”He stared at it long enough for the screen to dim. Cassandra, still wrapped in his shirt, stepped beside him.“What is it?” she asked.He locked the screen.“Nothing.”She saw the tension in his jaw, the flicker of something darker in his eyes.“Don’t lie to me.”He wanted to tell her. He wanted to unburden the growing pressure in his chest. But how do you tell someone that your bloodline is cursed? That even in death, Whitlock had followers? Shadows?“I’m fine,” he said finally.She studied him a beat longer, then let it go.But something shifted.Later that day, Claire called an emergency meeting at the safehouse. The table was littered with legal files, digital trackers, new leads. They’d dismantled Whitlock’s network, or so they thought, but a dark current still buzzed beneath the surface.“This isn’t over,” Claire said, flipping open a classified dos
My Bestie’s Mom, My Obsession The Return That Burns
The smoke had cleared, but the world hadn’t calmed.Cassandra stood in the middle of a press storm, her face once again on every news ticker, every headline, every social feed. The leaked footage from Whitlock’s compound had gone viral. Not just the fight, not just the confession, but her. Every raw inch of her body and soul in that performance, in that final act of power. A woman reclaiming herself in front of the very man who had tried to break her.And yet, she felt nothing.Not triumph. Not relief.Just… exhaustion.Ethan sat beside her at the press debrief table, hands interlocked with hers beneath the cloth. Claire stood at the far end of the room, flanked by attorneys and survivor advocates.Someone had leaked the truth: Whitlock was Ethan’s biological father.The media had gone feral.Some questioned Cassandra’s judgment. Others turned Ethan into a symbol of legacy and redemption.Cassandra? She became something else.An icon. A cautionary tale. A threat.And in every photo, e
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