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Chapter One hundred and thirty seven

Author: Blessing. B
last update publish date: 2026-05-19 01:52:36

DAMIEN POV

“Where are we going now, boss?” Marcus asked, as soon as he entered the passenger seat. I had to insist that he doesn't drive so his hands can heal better.

“Whitehead street… I need to say hello to the new sheriff”

The driver nods and starts the engine. I pulled out the folder I was sent this morning. It was named Brief.

Marcus said there was nothing much about the new findings but even the tiniest details go a long way.

I started to flip through the pages. The first few were routin
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  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter Two hundred and thirty four

    CASSIAN'S POV The penthouse was silent except for the distant hum of the city far below. I stood at the floor-to-ceiling glass wall, phone still clutched in my hand long after Samson’s call had ended. Such a fool. Samson had always been reckless, but this? Getting himself caught like a common thug? After everything I had built, after all the years of careful planning? I had him but he just had to be reckless and ruin my plans. I slammed the phone down on the marble counter so hard the screen cracked. The sound satisfied me for half a second before the rage returned. I poured myself a drink, the amber liquid sloshing in the glass. I downed it in one swallow and poured another. The burn did nothing to cool the fire in my chest. I had warned him. I had told him Damien Cross was not to be underestimated. That the man was slippery, always one step ahead, and yet Samson had walked right into his trap because he was arrogant and underestimated him What an arrogant idiot. His own

  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter Two hundred and thirty three

    SAMSON'S POV The interrogation room was blinding. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead like angry insects trapped in glass. The white walls felt like they were closing in. A metal table was bolted to the floor in the center of the room and two detectives sat across from me like they actually thought they could break me. My shoulder burned from the gunshot wound. My face was swollen and bruised from the beating Damien gave me before they dragged me away. Every breath sent sharp pain through my ribs. But I leaned back in the uncomfortable chair with cuffs biting into my wrists and smiled at them like we were having a friendly chat. “Mr. Samson,” the older detective began, sliding a thick folder across the table. “You’ve got quite the rap sheet. Private security. Weapons trafficking. Assault. Kidnapping. You want to tell us why you were running a full compound full of armed men out in the middle of nowhere?” I didn’t answer right away. I just kept smiling, letting the silence st

  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter Two hundred and thirty two

    LEAH'S POV I got out of the Uber and stepped into the hospital. I've hated the smell of hospitals since I was younger. I stopped at the front desk first. A tired-looking nurse was typing on her computer. “Excuse me,” I said quietly. “I’m looking for Jeremy Hale. He was brought in after a shooting.” The nurse glanced up at me, then at the bruise on my cheek. “Are you okay?” She asked, reaching to touch the bruise on my lips. I instinctively took a step back avoiding her “Yes I'm good thanks for asking. I'm looking for Jeremy Hale.” "Alright, Honey Let me check… Room 317. Down the hall, take the elevator to the third floor and turn left.” “Thank you.” I stopped at the gift shop on the first floor and bought the only decent thing I could find — a small basket with snacks, a paperback thriller, and a bottle of water. It felt too small for what Jeremy had done, but it was something. We had never been truly close. He was just someone who had been pulled into our chaos. Still, I o

  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter Two hundred and thirty one

    LEAH'S POV I wake to birds chirping outside the window. Sunlight cuts across the room too bright. Every inch of my body protests as I push myself up. My ribs ache with each breath. My head throbs. For a long moment, I sit on the edge of the bed staring at the floor. I wish I could disappear back under the covers. But I cannot hide in this room forever. I move to the mirror. The girl looking back at me is a stranger with swollen eyes, a lip split, and a dark bruise blooms across my cheek. I touch it carefully and wince. Dried blood cracks on my lip. I look exactly like what I am. Someone who barely survived. I splash cold water on my face. I drag my fingers through my tangled hair and leave it at that. No makeup. No hiding. The house is quiet but smells like coffee I follow the smell of coffee into the kitchen. Emily stands at the stove scrambling eggs. "Leah" she says softly. "You are up. How are you feeling?" "I am managing." I pour myself a cup of coffee and wrap my hand

  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter Two hundred and thirty

    DAMIEN'S POV The room feels too small with all of us in it. I stand by the window trying to keep my face blank, but my blood is boiling. Ethan just pulled Leah into his arms like he’s the only one who’s allowed to care. Like I didn’t risk everything to get her back. I watch her lean into him. I watch her close her eyes for a second. It feels like someone is twisting a knife in my chest. Leah stands there looking pale and tired. The bruise on her cheek and the cut on her lip make my hands itch to hit something preferably the people who put them there. "Leah," Mom says softly from the other couch while she holds Sophie. "You should sit down. You've been through hell." Leah sits and winces. Emily gives her water. The silence in the room is thick. Ethan is staring at the floor like he’s barely holding it together. I haven’t moved. I know I look cold. Controlled. That’s the only way I know how to be when everything is falling apart. "I'm sorry," Leah says, her voice rough. "I didn'

  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter Two hundred and twenty nine

    ETHAN'S POV The drive to my father’s estate takes forty minutes. I spend every second of it rehearsing words I never wanted to say. I haven’t asked him for anything in years. Not since I walked away and swore I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of needing him. But Leah is out there somewhere, and I can’t find her alone. Not against people like Damien Cross. I punch in the gate code. The long driveway feels longer than usual,. The house still looks cold. Empty. The same as it always has. I sit in the car for a full minute after killing the engine, staring at the front door. Then I force myself out and walk inside without knocking. My father is in his study, tablet in hand. He glances up, expression unreadable as ever. “Ethan.” He sets the device down. “This is unexpected.” “I need men,” I say without preamble. “People who can move quietly. People with no connection to Damien Cross.” He leans back, eyebrow raised. “Why?” “I can’t tell you that.” “Then I can’t help you.” “Fat

  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter One hundred and eighty four

    LEAH'S POVThe Uber pulls up to the address and I am out of the car before it fully stops. The house is dark and abandoned with broken windows all around and overgrown grass. My heart is pounding so loud I can hear it in my ears. I reach the front door and find it unlocked. I push it open and st

  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter Three

    I don’t know how long we stay on the couch like that—me curled in his lap, naked except for the slip dress bunched around my waist, him fully clothed but holding me like I’m the only thing that matters in the world. His hand strokes slow circles on my back, his lips brush my temple every few minute

  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter Two

    The penthouse is too quiet at midnight.Emily crashed hours ago—too much rosé, too much sun, too much gossip about some guy she’s been texting. The rooftop lights are off, the pool dark and still. I’m standing outside Damien’s office door in the hallway that feels longer than it did this afternoon,

  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter One

    I’m sweating before I even step off the elevator.Miami in July doesn’t care that I took two buses and walked six blocks in this dress. The heat clings like a second skin, making the thin white cotton stick to my ribs. My tote bag slaps against my hip—towel, dollar-store sunscreen, the dog-eared co

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