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TWENTY-FOUR: It's Your Boyfriend's Fault
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2025-11-18 23:00:01I blink up at Marcus. His words don’t make sense to me. What he is saying doesn’t make sense.
“Nora?” Marcus says, after I just stare at him for a minute.“Sorry…” I mumble, also putting my mug down. “I don’t think I heard you right. Cause it… it sounded like you just said that David fucking fired me?”“No, no, he definitely hasn’t done that.” Marcus rushes to say, his hands coming up defensively. “He just… thinks that you shouldn’t come to work for a bit.”“ARE YOU FUCKING SE
Latest chapter
SIR #97: Tell Me I'm Wrong
The prank was supposed to hit me. Chloe rigged a bucket of water balanced against the top of the science wing door, an old trick that I taught her, admittedly not my most sophisticated act of war, but effective enough historically that I signed off on it without much thought.But unfortunately for her, things didn’t go as planned and it gets Garvin instead.He walks through that door just before I do (his fault, honesty. I always tell him ladies first is the gentlemanly thing to do) and the entire bucket comes down on him in one clean, brutal wave, soaking him from the collar of his blazer down to his shoes while half the hallway erupts into laughter. He stands there for a second, dripping, blinking water out of his eyes.I shoot Chloe a coy look, crossing my arms with a victorious smirk as I await the outrage I know is about to be headed her way.Surprisingly though, he let’s out a loud booming laugh, shaking his head as he wrings out one sleeve.Chloe, standing a few feet away with
SIR #96: A Ghost In More Than Name
A/N: Ok guys, where the hell is Coco?? I've been working my ass off to publish 2 chapters a day even while writing exams and my favorite reader isn't here to see it😭. Where the hell's my girl? I hope you're okay sweetheart! P.S. I really need to create a groupchat or... something. Anything to keep in touch with you guys outside these damn Author's Notes. ~ I hear Zeke’s footsteps outside my door around eleven, already used to the specific rhythm of his final round for the night, and I have the door open before he’s fully passed it. He stops and looks at me for a second, still fully dressed, hair a mess from pushing my hands through it repeatedly over the last hour of failing to sleep, and something in his expression shifts from professional to something closer to resigned amusement. “You’re not going to bed anytime soon, are you,” he says. “Not remotely.” He chuckles lightly. “Then you might as well be awake somewhere better than this house.” I assume he’s joking. I laugh, ac
SIR #95: I Believe You
My father takes the news about Carver’s condition with a stillness that scares me considerably more than shouting would have. He doesn’t slam his hand on the desk. He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t demand anyone repeat themselves, doesn’t do any of the things I’ve watched him do when a business deal falls through or a rival tries something petty. He just sits there for a long moment, absorbing it, his eyes going somewhere distant like he’s already three moves ahead in a chess game the rest of us haven’t even realized we’re playing. “A machine keeping him alive, you said,” he says finally, mostly to himself. “He’s in a coma,” Eli confirms. “Apparently, the bullet grazed his brain not bad enough to kill him but bad enough to out him on life support. There’s no version of that man giving orders from a hospital bed, not for weeks, maybe longer.” “Then someone else has been,” my father says. “Which means everything we’ve been calling Carver’s operation for the last several months was
SIR #94: Right Back Where They Started
Rourke gave them one usable thing before they took him downtown – a drop location, a mailbox rental two towns over where the payout had been left in cash, no camera coverage, no forwarding address on file, the kind of dead end that would have stopped most investigations cold if Elias hadn’t spent months learning exactly how men like Carver structured their money trails. Zeke insisted on running it together. Neither of them says it out loud, but Elias understands the reasoning without needing it explained. David wants this contained to the smallest circle possible, and right now that circle consists of exactly two people with the skill set to actually work a stakeout properly, and one of them happens to be a man the other one still doesn’t trust. The first night in the car is almost entirely silent. They sit parked a block from the mailbox facility with a clean line of sight to the entrance, coffee going cold in the cupholders, and for six hours the only sounds are the occasional c
SIR #93: Ghost
Author’s Note (I know y’all are sick of this. I’m sorry, I just love talking to you guys): Hi, my lovelies! First of all, I’m so sorry for disappearing over the last five days. I’ve been buried under tests and preparing for my exams, which officially start on Monday. 🥲 But I’m back now, and I come bearing chapters! Now for the bittersweet news… I’ve officially outlined the rest of I Hate You Too, and I’m both excited and a little heartbroken to say that the story will be coming to an end by the end of this month. The Reids have been such a huge part of my life since last year, so it’s honestly hard to imagine saying goodbye to them. But every story deserves its ending, and I think it’s finally time to put SIR to rest. On a happier note, I also have a brand-new book on my profile called His Undercover Submissive! I’ve poured just as much love, time, and chaos into that story as I have this one, so I’d absolutely love it if you checked it out and showed it some love. Leave a few
SIR #92: The Entire List
Elias watches her face while he explains everything – the shell corporation, the staffing filings, the single occupied room repeated down the entire length of a logbook he had no business reading through a window. He tells her about the four guards rotating a wing built to look like nothing, and about standing in the treeline at midnight cataloguing every detail he could get without crossing a line he wasn’t ready to cross alone. Lucia goes quiet or a while as she absorbs all the information and processes it. “We can’t go back there,” she says finally. “At least not without some backup.” Elias knows exactly who she means, and he knows what saying it out loud is going to cost both of them. “You’re talking about telling your father everything.” “I’m talking about not running this alone anymore,” she says. “You know what’s in that facility. I know what’s been happening at my house. If we keep sitting on separate halves of this and trying to solve it in secret, someone’s going t
SIR Epilogue
The bedroom door is barely closed before David's hands are on me, sliding up under the thin silk of my robe as he backs me against the wall.I tilt my head back against the cool plaster, letting him kiss down the column of my throat while my fingers work the buttons of his shirt open. His skin is s
Last Updated : 2026-04-05SIR #52: Hands Where I Can See Them
The sight of Maya on our couch with her legs crossed, looking like she’s waiting for room service, snaps something inside me and I just move. I cross the living room in three strides, my hands already curling into fists, ready to wipe that calm smile off her face with every ounce of rage that’s b
Last Updated : 2026-04-05SIR #54: I'm Fucking Sorry
Maya stands frozen under the bright lights of the Red Room, her chest rising and falling too fast, eyes wide with the kind of shock that only comes when every careful plan collapses in the same heartbeat. Blood is drying on my arms, sticky and warm, but none of it is mine. The bodies of her men lie
Last Updated : 2026-04-05SIR #55: You Know I'm Right
Maya jerks backward from the impact, the bullet tearing through the meat of her shoulder. She staggers two steps with her right hand clamping over the wound and blood already seeping between her fingers. The knife she’d pulled from her boot clatters to the floor. Her eyes are wide and locked on the
Last Updated : 2026-04-05
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