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THIRTEEN: Did the Soup Boil Yet?
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2025-06-17 15:40:27
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Nursing the Murderer Alpha King THIRTEEN: Did the Soup Boil Yet?
He walks past me, but it didn’t take long before my shaking hands found themselves reaching for him again. He immediately turns, those crimson orbs, eyeing me for anything wrong. “Please, just . . . don’t do anything stupid.” I whimper. A small smile spreads through his face, and he grabs something on the counter before turning to me. “How about this,” he trails of. “I’ll be back before this soup could even cook itself.” He winks.He takes my hand from my side, “Now wife, why don’t you stir this for me while you wait?”Dante hands me the wooden spatula like he’s asking me to water the plants, not babysit his fucking murder stew.“What?” I blink at him. “You-you’re supposed to be the one c-cooking. So, you have to come back to me.” I snarl, even with tears beginning to collect once more in my eyes.“I was,” he says, already pulling off his apron. “But I need you to check once it boils, okay?”“Please Dante, don’t hurt yourself.” I can’t lose you too . . . thats what I wanted to say bu
Nursing the Murderer Alpha King TWELVE: Good Girl
I stare straight into his eyes, with sheer determination lacing my voice. “No one.”I don’t miss the way his crimson eyes darken when I say it.Dante stares down at me, jaw ticking, and I swear I feel the pressure in my spine, like a fuckin’ blade running down it. He doesn’t move, nor does he blink. He simply stands there, stone-cold and fucking terrifying, watching me like I’m prey pretending to be clever.“You’re lying, wife.” His voice is a rasp—lethal, guttural, low. The kind of tone that makes your instincts scream to run. “And I told you . . . there’s no good in lying to me.”My mouth opens, but nothing comes out at first. I choke on the air.Then I roll my eyes, even with the shiver running down my spine. “You’ve known me for what, five minutes? Don’t start playing lie detector.”His stare sharpens even more. Now there’s no amusement. No grin. No teasing smirk.Just cutting silence.The man, Lucien, that bastard who brushed past me is already long gone, lost in the river of bus
Nursing the Murderer Alpha King ELEVEN: Fitting Rooms
Thank Jesus for the wealth the Imperial Beta has given me., but I didn’t expect him to also let me get a hold of this.Dante’s wallet is so thick it could double as a murder weapon.I slap it into his palm just as he’s about to pull out his phone and ask how much money we have. We. As if the checking account isn’t in his name. As if the house, the car, the bed I’ve been sleeping in—all of it—isn’t his.He flips it open, his eyebrows shooting up as though I’ve just handed him a loaded gun.“There’s a fucking black card in here.” He looks at me like I’ve been hiding a small country in my purse. “Is this mine?”“No, babe,” I deadpan. “I mugged a billionaire yesterday and thought I’d give you a turn.”His eyes slice into mine, but I’m already turning away, biting back a grin. “Of course it’s yours. Everything in that house is yours. Even the broken-ass toaster that electrocuted me yesterday? It’s all yours.”I maybe am benefiting from all the stuff I was privilege enough to be given for n
Nursing the Murderer Alpha King TEN: Lucien
No.No fucking way.The second he opens his mouth, my throat closes.“Long time, Omega.”My knees buckle, but I don’t fall. Not yet. My spine locks though it’s been injected with cement, and I swear I can taste bile. His voice is the same. Maybe deeper. Age has gritted it out, but the rot beneath is still there. Still him.“Still trembling like a rabbit, I see.”I don’t move. I can’t.The fluorescent lights overhead buzz, casting his shadow long and sharp across the linoleum floor of the aisle. Shelf number five. Right between baking powder and pasta sauce. It’s almost funny. If I wasn’t about to fucking collapse.“Lucien,” I croak. My voice is barely a whisper.He smiles wider. All teeth. All predator.“Thought you could run from me, little healer?” he murmurs, stepping closer. “From what we had?”What we—?I flinch—full-body. And that’s what he wants, isn’t it? That reaction. That old panic crawling through me like maggots in open skin.He moves fast. As he always did. In a blink, m
Nursing the Murderer Alpha King NINE: Grocery Shopping
I never thought doing dishes would give me anxiety, but here I am, wrist-deep in suds, heart slamming against my ribs like it’s trying to file a fucking police report.The sun spills across the sink as a golden crime scene tape. The air smells like pepper, eggs, and betrayal, and we just finished eating.Dante Morelli—Alpha King, certified monster, my “husband”—is humming behind me. Humming. Still shirtless. Still in those goddamn low-hanging black shorts that show off every inch of his torso though it’s a fucking crime to look that good. Spoiler alert—it should be.And he cooked.He. Cooked. For me.Which shouldn’t make me feel anything except alarm bells because Alpha Kings don’t do domestic shit like chop onions and taste their sauce on the tip of a goddamn wooden spoon.So why the hell does he cook better than me?Why does he flip pancakes as if he’s a man who’s done it every Sunday of his life when I know his Sundays were more bloodbath than brunch?Why do I want him to do it aga
Nursing the Murderer Alpha King EIGHT: Excuses
Hell no. This isn’t what I’m being paid for. I instantly get out of the tub, pushing him off. My clothes are wet but my body is still paralyzed from how he pinned me on the tub earlier.The second I manage to yank the bathroom door open, I feel like I’ve just escaped a fucking warzone.Except the war is still following me.Dripping wet, freezing my tits off, and with shampoo stinging the shit out of my left eye, I bolt down the hallway as if it owes me money. My soaked clothes slap against my skin with each step, and I’m pretty sure this oversized T-shirt is now see-through in all the worst places. Thank Goddess I’m not wearing white. Small blessings, I guess.I reach the bedroom, slam the door, and suck in a lungful of air.What the fuck was that?No, seriously—what. The actual. Fuck.I almost kissed him. Or maybe he almost kissed me. I don’t even know who leaned in first, but his face was there, all wet and serious and too close to mine, and I lost brain function. I’m pretty sure h
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