All Chapters of Pen & Passion: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Once Jessy and Ethan left, I finally excused myself and went to my room, carrying a few of my shopping bags with me. Mark helped unload the rest and left them by the hallway for me to sort later. I gave him a quick thank-you before shutting my door behind me with a sigh.Finally, peace and quiet.I dropped the bags on my bed and started pulling things out one by one, the plastic rustling as I laid the clothes flat across the sheets. There were way more than I expected to get—and way more than I ever thought I’d own.I bit my lower lip as I admired the colorful pieces, a mix of sleek and casual clothes, stylish tops, flared jeans, skirts, and jackets that screamed cool city girl who has her life together.Honestly, I’ve always wanted to dress like this. But between my old budget lifestyle and work stress, there was never a reason—or a means—to splurge on anything remotely fashionable.Now here I was, practically swimming in new clothes thanks to Joaquin.Even if our relationship was roo

I changed into my usual sleeping clothes—a plain tank top and soft pajama shorts—and let out a long sigh as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.My cheeks were still flushed from earlier, my lips slightly swollen. I shook my head and groaned quietly, trying to shake off the heat that still lingered on my skin."Ugh," I muttered to myself. "Why did he stop?"I didn’t even know what we were doing—what this was. But it felt real… until he walked away like I was a mistake.Feeling restless, I padded out of the room and headed down to the kitchen. The house was quiet. Jessy and Ethan had left earlier, and Joaquin had already retreated to his room. Probably to nurse both his stab wound and his guilt.I opened the pantry and grabbed a bag of chips, then pulled out a soda from the fridge. I perched on a stool by the island and started munching in silence. Each crunchy bite was supposed to distract me, but nothing could shut up the whirlwind in my head.The soft sound of footsteps pulled me

Ethan drove in silence.The city lights flickered past the windows, muted behind the tinted glass. The air inside the car felt heavier than usual—dense with everything that hadn’t been said since that night.I sat by the window in the backseat, my legs crossed, the silky slit of my burgundy dress riding high on my thigh. I knew exactly what I was doing. And I could feel Joaquin noticing.He sat beside me, hands clasped in his lap… until I caught him stealing a glance.He cleared his throat—sharp and sudden, as if trying to shake off a thought.I turned to him slowly. “You okay?”“Yeah,” he said, eyes lingering for a second too long before he looked out the opposite window. “Fine.”I didn’t believe him for a second.He shifted in his seat and then reached out for my hand.I blinked as his fingers wrapped around mine, lacing them together tightly, deliberately.A show. A couple in love. That’s what we were here to do, right?I stared at our hands blankly. I said nothing.He turned his he

As dinner ended and the final glass of wine was poured, I could feel the weight of the evening settling into my shoulders. The tension. The performance. The careful words. I was exhausted—but I kept my head held high, even as we stood in the grand foyer saying our goodbyes.Mr. Joseph Bryan Greyson stood by the door, flanked by his secretary and butler, the very image of power and pride. His eyes flicked toward me one last time, and just when I thought he might actually say something decent, he proved me wrong.“You’ll forgive me, Joaquin,” he said with a sigh, “but I still believe Clarisse is the only woman truly worthy of your name. All this”—he gestured between us—“I’ll consider it a phase. When you’re ready for something real, I’ll begin the introductions.”My fingers twitched at my side.Joaquin stiffened beside me, the polite mask slipping from his face. “No,” he said sharply, without hesitation. “I’m not interested in anyone else.”His words cut through the air like a clean blad

It started out like a memory. A flicker of a moment that had already happened.Joaquin’s hand slid along my waist, his fingers cool and confident, just like that night in the dressing room. I could still feel the way he pressed against me, the heat of his breath as he whispered my name.His lips trailed along my collarbone, and I tilted my head, granting him access as if it were natural—like I wanted it. Like I needed it. His mouth was on mine again, insistent and hot, stealing the breath right from my lungs.My hands tangled in his hair, tugging gently as his lips left a trail down the curve of my neck. I gasped when he murmured something—something that felt like a promise and a threat wrapped in silk.His grip tightened just a bit, grounding me in that moment, and for a second, I swore I could hear his heartbeat.Then I blinked.It was too vivid. Too real. The way his mouth moved, the way my body responded—it wasn’t just a dream. But I know it was… Joaquin was never with me even befo