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FOURTEEN: Who Were You Calling?

Aвтор: Circeleari
last update Последнее обновление: 2025-06-19 23:52:36

The shower’s running and I’m stripped from head to toe.

If I could burn those clothes, I would.

He’s still humming, I can hear it through the loud showerhead in front of me, and I’m still fucking shaking. The warm water isn’t doing me favors at all.

There’s blood dried under my nails when I scratched my cheeks off the dried, crusted blood when he cupped my face. When his fingers brushed my cheek like he was comforting me, not dragging me into hell.

Red on my pajama top—right over my ribs. The stain smudged when he touched me.

I don’t take long having to take a bath. I’ve changed into one of my silk pajamas after blow drying my hair. I can’t keep him waiting. I bet anyone wouldn’t want their husband waiting especially when they witness first hand what that said husband could do.

I sit at the edge of the kitchen stool for five minutes now, in complete silence. I haven’t moved. Can’t. My legs are jelly, my head’s spinning.

Dante has excused himself to take the bathroom now that I was
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  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   TWENTY-NINE: Staring Contest

    Dante’s hand is warm on my thigh, his thumb rubbing the same spot as though he owns it.He notices everything—except the fact that my stomach is folding in on itself right now.I can feel her eyes still on us from across the room.That woman.Her.The one I’m not supposed to ever cross paths with.Fuck, just why did he have to have a freaking Goddess for a fiancee?My gaze locks with hers again and she leans in to say something to the friends at her table. I see the shift in their posture, and I fucking know they’re all preparing to stand up and walk over here.Panic spikes in my chest, sharp and absolutely ugly.No, no, no. Not here. Not tonight.Dante tilts his head. “What are you staring at, piccola?”Shit.His head starts to turn toward her, but I grab his hand under the table so fast I nearly knock over my water glass. This stops him from looking their way.“Bathroom,” I blurt out, and force out a shaky laugh. “I need to go to the bathroom. Come with me.”One of his eyebrows goes

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   TWENTY-EIGHT: The Suit Fits

    I’ve lost count of how many shopping bags are in the back seat by the time we pull into the driveway. Dante carries all of them with one hand, as though they weigh nothing, and still insists on holding the door open for me with the other. Gentleman my ass. He’s a gentleman until he’s not.Inside, the mansion is too quiet. A sigh leaves my lips as I open the front doors with my keys. This was the exact thing I always prayed to the Goddess for—even a little less than this as I wallowed in a wet mattress from leaking ceilings and a land lord that would bang in my doorstep at every given time.It was provided but at the cost of someone. All I had to take care of was him. To simply taje care of. How did everything go from there to . . . what this is now? ]I place the keys as Dante follows behind, pushing his loafers off from the heel with each of his feet. I’ve done my job, albeit it was stressful. I just have to hand him back in and things will go back to the way it was and I’ll be abl

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   TWENTY-SEVEN: For the Last Time

    His fiancée.I blink at Rafe like I misheard him. Maybe I did. Maybe the blood in my ears is too loud, roaring too damn much for me to catch the punchline. Except he’s not laughing.It sits wrong in my ears. No matter how many times I replay it, it doesn’t sound real. Not because I didn’t expect it—he’s a fucking Alpha King, of course there’s a woman, probably dozens, maybe even an entire lineage waiting to chain themselves to his bloodline.Still, it makes my stomach hollow out.I say nothing. I can’t.He’s just standing there, arms crossed over his chest, and his silence, the reality, the word—presses down on me like a fucking knife.“Fiancée?” My voice comes out too soft, too uncertain. “He has a fiancée?”Rafe rubs his face, his palm dragging slow and rough though it might scrub this entire interaction off his skin.“Of course, he does, Eris. He’s the fucking Alpha King.” His voice is hoarse now. There’s less rage on it, more resignation. “Half the damn continent throws themselv

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   TWENTY-SIX: His Fiancée

    I try to push him off again. He doesn’t budge. “Bathroom,” I hiss, voice shaky. “At least take me to the fucking bathroom.” He chuckles, low and unhinged. “Nah.” He drops to his knees. Oh no. He’s not gonna do it here, right? “What—Dante, no—” I barely get the word out before he yanks my skirt down and shoves my panties aside. I slap my hand over my mouth. We are in the goddamn kitchen. The counter hides most of me, thank fuck, but he is underneath it. The Imperial Beta is ten fucking feet away. “Dante—fuck—what the hell are you—” He buries his face in me. Tongue first. Like a fucking animal. No teasing. No warning. Just rough, wide licks as if he’s starving. It's as though he hasn’t tasted food in weeks and my cunt is the feast. My thighs jerk, and I slap both palms onto the granite behind me, trying to brace myself. I can hear the Beta moving in the living room. Footsteps on the hardwood. His voice— “You alright in there, Eris?” I choke on a gasp. “Y-Yeah. Just look

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   TWENTY-FIVE: Under the Counter

    Knock.Knock.Knock.“Ugh, who the hell comes at this hour?” I grumble as I look at the alarm clock on my nightstand. It’s still six in the morning for Goddess’ sake!It’s not the casual kind of knock either. So I would assume it’s not some neighbor borrowing sugar or a drunk kid mistaking the wrong door. It’s stead and assertive. Like whoever’s behind it already owns the fucking house.Oh shit. I know someone who owns this fucking house.My stomach drops.I peel myself out of bed so fast, still in the dress from last night. It reeks of alcohol from the masquerade ball and fear after all the burying. My eyes flick to Dante.\Goddess, he’s glorious. I would drool over him if I’m not already drooling in the morning.He’s sprawled on the mattress, shirtless, his hand still stained red from Leo. There's dried blood on the sheets. On me. On him. My head is spinning, but my limbs are moving before I can think. I take his golden greek body one last time before I really leave the bed. I cross

  • Nursing the Murderer Alpha King   TWENTY-FOUR: Then No More

    “I’m not gonna hurt you, Eris. You know that, right?”I nod, but it’s more of a twitch than anything else. Not because I believe him. Not really. But because I just want this night to be over.The nausea’s still there, sitting low and ugly in my gut. The alcohol’s not helping too. I feel hot, dizzy, and uncomfortable in my own skin.Leo’s standing too fucking close.He steps back just an inch—just enough for me to breathe again, barely—and drags a hand through his hair, messy and damp from sweat. His tie’s hanging loose around his neck though it’s trying to choke him. It probably should.“How long’s it been?” he mutters, almost to himself. “Since I last saw you… that was, what, a year ago? You were working in that dingy little clinic. Still talking about finding your mom. Still alone.”“Still am,” I say quickly. Reflex. It’s a lie. A defense. Something to fill the space between us that’s starting to shrink again.He snorts, tilting his head. “Not from where I’m standing. Looked pretty

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