Minerva and Darwin knew that they were an hour and a half late already.
Yet, Darwin acts like it was just nothing—fixing his tie and brushing his hair with his left hand as his other hand held hers. “Hope your stepmom won't be shouting when she sees you very late.” She was given a breathy laugh by him. “She won’t.” He eyed her for a second, “As long as you wrap your arm around mine.” The two smiled at each other, a secret love language and signal that only the two of them knew. Minerva’s cave was still a bit aching due to her and Darwin lasting for an hour without him pulling out. She tried to walk as normal as she could. Nevertheless, she smi‘Something’s going on between dad and Minerva…’ Those words echoed in Darwin’s mind, prompting him to yield a blank face towards Minerva as he sat beside her. It takes a little bit of control to not glare at Minerva, or at his dad. The lobster bisque in front of him is so aromatic that it made him tore away his gaze from his soon-to-be Mrs. Gray. Darwin had scooped a couple of spoonfuls of the soup when he turned his attention to Minerva. She, too, was having a lobster bisque soup. Except for the fact that she constantly hoists her face and glances at his father.His father. The man he respects the most, loves the most, cares the most.
Minerva thought that Darwin was simply craving for it. But as soon as she saw the smoke in his eyes, the boiling rage on his ragged-looking face, she knew something was wrong with him. And it has to do with her. He licked his lips with his tongue. Minerva just waited for him to gather the courage to ask her what he badly needed to ask. “Is my father courting you?” Minerva leaned closer to him with widened eyes. She thought she heard the wrong query when she looked at his hands, clenched hard on his either sides—as if he was ready to punch her. She fathomed how angry he was now. Minerva thought that thi
“Are you two alright?” Darwin and Minerva just finished it, as well as their argument, when Damon came pounding at the door, worried of their whereabouts. “We just have a slight argument, dad,” said Darwin Dennis Gray. A smile crept on Mr. Damon’s face. “Slight argument? I see you’ve both already solved it then…” Minerva blushed at the smirk on Darwin’s father and tried to wrap her body with a blanket on the nearby couch. “Ahem…” Damon looked at his son, then to her with that teasing smile, knowing of what she and Darwin just did. “You
Jocelyn was fuming. Anger was vividly painted on her face. Her brows are furrowing. Her lips are pursed into a flat line. Her nose is flaring, and her throat is dry as the Sahara Desert. She should’ve told a much more solid reason to Darwin for a sure separation of Minerva from the Gray family. But, none of her previous efforts work that much. In fact, it didn’t even work—not even an inch. Clenching her face as she looks at herself in the vanity mirror, she glanced at her side—to where a picture of a beautiful red-head girl was situated. Jocelyn smiled as she knew she must use her secret ‘card’ this time no matter what the cost is. Dialing on her phone, she taps her fingers on the wooden table in anticipation of the person on the other line. Finally, after two rings, the girl answered. “What is it this time, Jocelyn?” She frowned, but instead forced a smile. “Darwin and his pregnant whore a
“Minerva, dear…” It is Minerva’s first time hearing Damon Gray’s voice in a stern manner. “I think you should concentrate on eating first. I have invited a specialist to arrange an appointment with you, especially you are nearing the delivery of yours and Darwin’s baby.” Damon glanced at Darwin, whose face is visibly irritated by Gyzell's presence. He peered at Minerva again. Finally, Damon gazed at Lushan, with a stinging set of words. “We have to discuss something, Lushan Angeles.” “Of course, uncle,” he replied. Minerva avoided Lushan’s eyes and wiped her mouth. Drinking a glass of apple juice, Minerva couldn’t fathom why Jocelyn’s grin is so wide. It looked real, but it also felt like a mocking smile towards her. ‘What is with Jocelyn this time? Why is she smiling?’ she thought, brows furrowing. But she kept her head low to avoid the stare of Darwin’s stepmother. “Darwin, dear…” Gyzell’s high-pitched and girly voice is here to make Minerva’s ea
Darwin’s brain is storming with Typhoon Minerva—again. He couldn’t stop thinking about her. She and that Lushan boy. ‘Who the hell is that bastard?!’His thoughts bounced within the walls of his mind. ‘Why does Minerva seem closed with him?’ Darwin was indeed acting like a child, but he doesn’t give a damn about that. The only thing that he would gladly give his damn attention is her and her only. And Lushan Angeles, for now. He was walking in the hallway towards the veranda of Chateau Bellerose when he noticed something by the wall. It was Minerva—but in a painting. Darwin looked closer, walked nearer. The signature of his father was in the bottom right of it in white. “It’s been a long time since dad painted,” he reminisced. He closed the distance with the painting on the wall. Darwin, then, realized it wasn’t Minerva. It was his mother, Deanna. He blinked, wiping away the sweat on his brows. Though
The young and handsome Darwin was below Cyrene—literally. “Is it too rough, honey?” Cyrene asked. She was panting, gasping for breath as she moved her body up and down, slow then swift into his young flesh. Darwin was smiling, and moaning the entire time. He never knew that paradise existed until Cyrene’s lap dance. Until this moment. Unable to resist, he squeezed her breasts that made Cyrene utterly mad. His two hands slid down. And down. Until he reached her waist, in which he gripped it tightly with his two hands. He dug deeper in her core with his sheer blade. Cyrene barked a curse at his sensation. “You’re a fast learner, babe,” she remarked. But Darwin only smiled. No, not smiled. He grinned—in a malicious way. Two bodies become one. Two voices sang in the tune of pleasure. “Here comes the horse rider!” Little Darwin shrieked. So as Cyrene, as she reached the peak of this sensual convergence.*** “Fuck! I
It was Darwin’s seventh birthday. He was standing by their house’s window, as his mother Deanna tied up the balloons and party decorations. Black and red are the theme colors for his special day, in which he isn't merely pleased. Darwin watched silently outside, hoping that in any minute, the young girl she was longing to meet will come walking towards his house. There, in front of them, is the house of a young girl named Miriam. He doesn’t know her full name as his mother only calls the beautiful youngling in that name. She has sapphire blue eyes that reminds Darwin of the waters of Malibu where they celebrated his mother’s birthday. Her luscious strawberry blonde hair makes him want to go back to the juicy, sweet strawberries of Japan—where he and his father’s son from another woman celebrated the latter’s birthday, along with their respective mothers and their father. She was beautiful, like the morning star above, brightly illuminating the world. His world.