บททั้งหมดของ REBEL : THE DEADLY HIERESS: บทที่ 91 - บทที่ 100

KLAUS Her wrists creaked with the silk ropes, trembling body, ruined voice — and yet she said, "I can give more." That killed me in ways the rage could not. I drew my hand from her jaw to her breast, pinching her nipple hard until she screamed out, arching up, eyes wide. My other hand tugged down her belly, finding home between her legs. She was wet, dripping, the sheets in shreds beneath her. "You're branded," I growled, scratching rough circles on her clit. "Used and still begging." "Yes," she gasped, her back bowing as her knees shook. "Always. For you." She said it, and the words spat through me like a lightning bolt. I stuffed three fingers into her at once, riding her hard enough to have her scream. Her body jerked around mine, her voice shattering into a heap of moans and sobs. "Count again," I growled, wrapping my fingers into a fist, and her body convulsed. Her eyes rolled back, her voice shaking. "E-eleven!" I thrust deeper into her mercilessly. "Twelve!" She scre

MIA The hospital was always filled with the smell of lemon bleach and terror. The kind of smell that clung to you regardless of how long you stayed, a reminder that someone was recovering or succumbing behind one of the white drapes. I hated it, but Robert had asked for me. Better—more like barked. I'm sure the nurses didn't enjoy his orders. Anyway, here I was, clutching a greasy paper bag of fries and a chocolate milkshake, because if you are talking about loyalty and betrayal, you can at least have comfort food. I pushed the door with my hip. "Knock knock. It's me, your least favourite angel of mercy." I jiggled the bag. "Brought contraband. Fries as thick as my patience and a shake colder than your bedside manner." Robert sat up with pillows behind him, one arm in a sling, bruises darkening his face like war paint. He looked…terrible. Not dying-terrible, but terrible in the way that made you wonder if he would ever throw a punch the same way again. His eyes, though, still had t

CATYA I was still thinking about that moment. Killian stepped out of the shadows, jaw cut like stone, suit clinging to him in ways that should’ve been illegal, and Rebel—oh Rebel—standing there with that knife at his man's throat like some avenging angel who didn’t know whether to stab or laugh. She told me she was going to the ladies', but I suspected something was wrong, so I followed her silently. And then? I whistled away. Literally. “Catya,” Rebel muttered, pulling her hoodie over her head as we left the store. Bags dangled from my hands, and she had her arms folded like she was a teenager instead of… well, Rebel. “You’re being loud.” I pressed the whistle into a tune just to annoy her. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but did you see him? He looked like sin dipped in Armani. Killian’s got that… thing.” She shot me a side-eye, her lips twitching. “That thing called obsession.” “Mm,” I dragged out the sound like honey, swinging the shopping bag. “Obsession never looked that good, gurl.” S

DANIELThe tux chafed my shoulders. Not because it didn’t fit, but Catya had gone all out, dragging me and Rebel into these ridiculous matching outfits, which would've been a good idea, but it's not because of the silence radiating from the woman at my side.Rebel hadn’t said a word to me since she returned home and has been staying with the twins and continuously stayed mute during the car ride. Not a glance, not a jab, not even the kind of annoyed sigh that at least told me I existed.Her dress was stunning—black silk with a gold lining that shimmered with each step, perfectly matching the gold-threaded handkerchief Catya had stuffed into my breast pocket. But Rebel didn’t look like she cared; she carried herself like a storm wrapped in satin about to recoil at any moment. I leaned toward her as we approached the entrance of the hall. “You know you look like you’re about to stab me in front of your whole family and invited guests, right? You can't stay mad at me forever.”She didn’

CARLY RHODESThe house was silent again after the buzzling of the party—too silent. Guests left, laughter is now non existent, plates cleared, but my mind was far from still. I was in my armchair, my eyes on the muted light rocking from the chandelier. I'd seen it in my daughter's eyes that evening: that stubborn, searing silence she wore like a shield whenever she's hurting. Daniel had been at her side, their outfits matching—clearly not her choice; I knew Rebel well enough.But her silence… It disturbs me greatly and keeps me worried because she is everything but the silent type so I know the situation must be bad.I grabbed the phone before my brain could devour me. She answered on the third ring."Mom?" Her voice had that familiar edge, half impatience, half fatigue."Rebel", I said softly, "are you home?""Yes." A pause. I could hear some noise in the background—maybe the kids. "Why?"I sat back, legs crossed. "Because we need to talk, sweetie. About tonight, about what I saw."S