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Three Fourteen

Author: Raven
last update Petsa ng paglalathala: 2026-05-21 16:15:41

The laptop screen went dark, and for what felt like forever, the only noise filling Frank’s bedroom was the soft, steady hum of the heater pushing warm air against the frost coating the window panes. Outside, the snow tapped gently on the glass, almost like it was trying to be polite while the chaos inside the room seemed ready to explode.

I found myself sitting on the edge of Frank’s bed, knees pressed tightly together to the point that my thighs throbbed, staring at the dark screen as if hopi
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  • My Enemy [BL]   Three Twenty Two

    It was that sound that broke through.Something about it, final and undeniable...seemed to echo louder than the sirens, louder than the voices, louder than everything else in that moment.Rowan inhaled sharply.It was the first real sign of life from him since the police had arrived, the first crack in the stillness he had clung to so tightly. His gaze was locked on his father, unblinking, as if he were trying to reconcile the man before him with the one he had known all his life.Roderick turned his head slightly, enough to look at him.For a moment, something almost familiar flickered in his expression, not softness or remorse, but something that might have passed for acknowledgment under different circumstances."You’ll understand one day," he said quietly.Rowan didn’t respond.He didn’t move.He just stared.The officer guiding Roderick toward the door didn’t pause, didn’t let the moment linger longer than necessary. The reality pressed forward, leaving no room for sentiment.Beh

  • My Enemy [BL]   Three Twenty One

    The first thing that struck me wasn’t the sound of sirens.No, it was the silence that preceded them.It crept in like a held breath as I walked back to the study, settling over the mansion in a way that felt wrong, almost as if the walls were bracing for something inevitable. The fire in the study had dwindled, its crackling turned into a muted pop, and the lingering scent of burnt paper hung in the air, coating my throat each time I swallowed.No one spoke.Rowan was standing just a few feet ahead, his shoulders tense, his posture rigid, somehow making him appear taller than usual. But I knew it wasn’t confidence keeping him upright; it was something more brittle and fragile, as if any touch could shatter him.Across the room, Roderick had gone still.His face was bruised, and there were marks on his neck. I’d only stepped away for a few minutes, and already, Rowan had taken it upon himself to beat his father’s ass.The arrogance that had colored Roderick’s voice moments earlier had

  • My Enemy [BL]   Three Twenty

    Third Person POVHe took a step closer, ignoring how Rowan continued to struggle against Carlby’s hold, the younger man’s face flushed with anger and exertion. Roderick’s tone turned almost pleading, laced with the sharp edge of justification."Get over it, Rowan. Move on, the evidence is gone...smashed under my heel like the worthless recording it was. A dying criminal’s ramblings against a respected businessman? No one will believe you.... Especially not when they see how violently you attacked your own father. I’ve escaped the law for years because I know how this world works. Judges, lawyers, favors owed in high places, I’ll sweep this under the carpet just like I’ve dealt with every inconvenience before. You think a tantrum and a broken phone can take me down? You’re just a kid playing at justice."Rowan’s struggles ramped up, twisting in Carlby’s grip as he yelled,"You’re a monster! A cold-blooded goddamn killer hiding behind your suits and charities! And you—" He jerked his he

  • My Enemy [BL]   Three Nineteen

    Third Person’s POVThe room was filled with the sharp scent of burnt paper mixed with the heavy sweetness of spilled scotch, closing in around the two men as the delicate bond between father and son finally broke.Rowan’s fist throbbed from where it had connected with Roderick’s jaw; the pain was grounding in the emotional storm swirling inside him.Roderick was on the other side of the massive oak desk, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but the twisted smile on his face showed no sign of defeat...just a perverse pride that made Rowan’s stomach turn."I suppose when you get older and end up taking over the company, you’ll understand my actions," Roderick had said, and those words echoed in Rowan’s mind, igniting the rage that had been building for years.Rowan’s vision narrowed, the edges blurring into a red haze fueled by grief and betrayal so deep it felt like it might swallow him whole. He lunged forward without hesitation, vaulting over the desk in a surge of wild fury

  • My Enemy [BL]   Three Eighteen

    Third Person’s POVThe room smelled of old leather, fine scotch, and the sharp scent of burning paper. Roderick stood behind the massive oak desk, his back to the door, pouring himself a generous glass of amber liquid into a crystal tumbler.As the decanter clinked against the glass, it could’ve been a classy sound under different circumstances. He maintained a composed posture, shoulders squared in the tailored shirt he had put on after the earlier chaos, but there was a tension in the way he held the bottle, a slow, deliberate movement that hinted he was stalling for time.The fire in the hearth crackled anew, flames dancing higher as another stack of papers curled at the edges and blackened. Rowan crossed the study in calculated strides, stopping just short of the desk, and without a moment’s notice, lifted his phone. His thumb pressed play.Logan’s voice filled the room, raw and weary, the confession pouring out in the same exhausted rhythm they had heard before. Roderick froze mi

  • My Enemy [BL]   Three Seventeen

    She stepped closer, her voice dropping into that familiar, pleading tone she used when she wanted me to see things her way. "Do you think I wanted this?" she started, the words spilling out like a sudden gust of wind filling the quiet room."That someone had to die for you to have a good life? Did you really want to stay poor?! Living with your abusive father and struggling to afford rent, barely managing to put food on the table?! Everything I’ve done was for you, Atlas. All of it. And all you’ve done is make me feel like a terrible person for it...crying about how I forced you to live with your bully instead of recognizing my sacrifice and stopping being ungrateful!"Her voice cracked at the end, but there was no softness; only a sharp edge honed by years of resentment hidden behind perfect smiles and fancy dinners.I stared at her, the sting of the slap from moments earlier still throbbing on my cheek, disbelief washing over me like a wave. This was the woman who had once spoiled m

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