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Chapter Two hundred and thirty eight

ผู้เขียน: Blessing. B
last update วันที่เผยแพร่: 2026-07-21 23:07:12

ELRIC'S POV

I don't know how long I stayed on that cold floor. My knees hurt and my throat was raw from screaming.

My father's hand was still in mine, cold and stiff, completely lifeless.

The officers eventually managed to pull me away. I didn't fight them this time. I had no strength left.

They led me to a small waiting room down the hall. Someone handed me a cup of water but I didn't drink it. I just sat there staring at the floor with the image of my father's pale face burned into my mi
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  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter Two hundred and thirty eight

    ELRIC'S POV I don't know how long I stayed on that cold floor. My knees hurt and my throat was raw from screaming. My father's hand was still in mine, cold and stiff, completely lifeless. The officers eventually managed to pull me away. I didn't fight them this time. I had no strength left. They led me to a small waiting room down the hall. Someone handed me a cup of water but I didn't drink it. I just sat there staring at the floor with the image of my father's pale face burned into my mind. Cassian's text kept flashing in my head. He failed me, no loose ends. He had killed him. My father had been loyal to him for years and Cassian threw him away like trash the second he became a problem. I hated him. I hated Damien. I hated all of it. After what felt like hours I finally stood up. My legs felt weak. I walked out of the precinct into the rain without saying another word to anyone. I stood by the sidewalk letting the rain wash over me. After what felt like hours I went back

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

    ELRIC'S POV The safe house felt too quiet. I sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the floor, my mind spinning in circles. Sophie was in the living room with me, curled up with her knees to her chest, scrolling through her phone. She still looked so small and fragile after everything we’d been through. I couldn’t sit here any longer. I stood up and walked over to her. She looked up at me, her eyes tired but alert. “I’m going out for a bit,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I need to see Dad. I’ll be back soon, okay?” Sophie’s face changed. She sat up straighter. “You’re going to the precinct?” “Yeah.” She was quiet for a second, then nodded. “Do you have to?” I forced a small smile and ruffled her hair like I used to. “Yes I do, don't worry about me. Stay with your mom and make sure you don't go anywhere.” I grabbed my jacket and left before the guilt could stop me. The rain was pouring hard as I got into the car. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking on the steering wh

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

    SAMSON'S POV I walk back to my cell with a smile on my face seeing Damien's frustrated face and watching him lose his cool made my day. This is just the beginning of his nightmare. We are barely getting started. I'll be out of here. The guards shoved me inside after the phone call, the heavy metal door slamming shut with a finality that echoed down the corridor. I sat down on the cold concrete bench, leaning my head against the damp wall. My shoulder still burned. My face was swollen and every breath hurt. But I smiled. Cassian would handle it. He always did. He’d get me out. I just had to wait. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the stench of piss and despair that clung to the cell. The thin mattress felt like concrete under me. The small barred window let in almost no light. I turned around and I was about to lie down on the disgusting bed when I heard hurried footsteps. The same older guard who brought me in just now stopped in front of my cell. “Samson. Your lawyer’s h

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

    DAMIEN'S POV I push open the door to my office and walk straight to the desk papers are spread everywhere financial records, legal documents, and shareholder lists. I need to get things handled. I need to take control back but I can't focus. I keep thinking about Cassian. My friend for years, We grew up together, we were a trio Cassain,Rose and I. We were inseparable and then we both fell for Rose. It was a friendly competition for her attention and I won. He was cool with it or so I thought. And that day happened, we were in a shootout and we ran into a building. And the rival gang set the place on fire Marcus knocks and steps inside and interrupts "Sir, the shareholders have been pacified for now. But Isabella is still making moves. She's been meeting with people. Planting doubts." "I know." I run a hand through my hair. "We need to stay ahead of her." "What's our next move?" I pause. I think about Samson. About the information he has. About the way he looked at me when

  • 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 Eighty-four

    DAMIEN POVI pick up my phone and dial Marcus's number “Send a car immediately” I say as soon as he picks up the phone.Within thirty minutes he's parked across the street, and I leave without saying anything to anyone.Mrs Hayes had returned to her room, and Leah was asleep upstairs.The morning

  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter Eighty-one

    LEAH POV"Damien?"My voice comes out smaller than I intended. I'm still standing in the doorway, the cool night air slipping in through the crack behind me.He's on my couch, legs hanging over the armrest, the loose shirt doing little to hide the bandages around his ribs. He looks uncomfortable a

  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter Eighty

    DAMIEN POVI keep adjusting my posture on the couch that is too small for me.I hang my legs over the armrest every move I make sends an ache through my bandaged ribs.I should be in my own bed in my penthouse, surrounded by silence and space that doesn't smell like cheap detergent and leftover tak

  • Owned By My Best Friend's Father   Chapter Thirty

    UNKNOWN POVUnder the harsh white glare of the floodlights, the private jet waits on the Miami Executive Airport tarmac.The humid night air is filled with a steady, low rumble as the engines idle. With his jacket slung carelessly over one shoulder, Damien Cross rushes across the asphalt in his rum

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