ROXANNE POV"Do you still have the pills, kitten?" He gently tilted my chin up with his free hand for me to look him in the eyes. I slowly nodded as I remembered how he thoughtfully had them prescribed for me, the other day. "Good girl." He murmured as he rubbed his warm tip against my wetness, before he pushed inside slowly. I gasped sharply, feeling as he squeezed himself into me while placing soft kisses on my face with hushed words. He started moving slowly at first, letting me adjust to the sensation while he slightly tugged my dress up to my waist. Then, he pulled back to watch himself sliding in and out of my entrance. I bit down harder on my lip, feeling as his length grew thicker and harder. "So...fucking tight..." His hips snapped forward suddenly, going deep and a sharp moan slipped from my lips. He pushed deeper inside me, filling me completely while he spread my legs a bit wider and I gripped onto his arm as a louder moan echoed from my lips."Damien..." I almost sc

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ROXANNE POVI crouched beside the folding table, making a few final adjustments to Angelina’s pop-up solar system while she skipped in circles around me and Fred. Her handwriting was proudly scribbled on the little presentation display cards. "Watch the corner, Angel." I said as she twirled too close to the edge. She just giggled and twirled in the opposite direction.Fred was beside me, squatting to re-tape one of the display labels that had peeled up at the corner. "There you go, kiddo." He said with a soft pat to the top of her head.Angelina lit up like a bulb. "Thanks, Uncle Fred!" She grinned, then dropped to her knees to examine her model up close. "It’s perfect!" I gave Fred a grateful look, and when Angel wandered off to look at someone else’s display, I leaned in close."Where’s Damien?" I asked, keeping my tone casual, too casual, maybe.Fred exhaled, scratching the back of his neck. "He’s going to be here." "That wasn’t an answer." Fred straightened, brushing his han

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ROXANNE POVAfter another kid wrapped up their presentation which was a cute paper diorama of a dinosaur park, his parents clapped a little too loud.I smiled, barely as I crossed my legs and kept my eyes glued to the stage. Damien didn’t even flinch beside me. He was doing his usual stoic act, but I could feel his gaze shift toward me now and then, like a loaded question. I didn’t acknowledge it. Not yet. Not after he almost didn’t show.My smiles were reserved only for the kids. The applause died down, and Ms. Carter's cheerful voice echoed through the mic, "And now, we have Angelina Raphaël with her project titled Our Solar Family!"Angelina perked up in her seat. Her small hand immediately reached out for Damien’s, tugging it. He stood, giving me one last unreadable look before walking his daughter up to the mic. I folded my arms across my chest, watching.Damien gently leaned down and said something into Angel's ear. She looked up at him and nodded shyly, then took the microp

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ROXANNE POVI sat on the edge of my bed, flipping slowly through the therapy program booklet Thomas had handed me earlier. There were tabs, glossy pamphlets, and typed-up summaries tucked inside like he was expecting me to pick a whole damn university course. He said Damien would handle the costs and arrangements, that all I had to do was choose. But truthfully? I didn't care which program it was. I just wanted someone who could help me unlock the pieces of my past, the twelve years that were nothing but a blur before that car crash.That crash that almost killed me. That crash that apparently stole my mother. And left me in the hands of Garry and his twisted lies.I rubbed my forehead, tossing the booklet onto the sheets beside me. It flopped open to a page about cognitive reprocessing or something like that. As if that could undo years of someone else painting over your life with bullshit.Then the door to my bedroom burst open with such force I jumped, nearly knocking over the

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ROXANNE POVI was still wiping dried blood off the back of my hand when Fred pulled me aside near the hallway. The buzz of voices in the guesthouse had quieted down to groans and the occasional cough. I could still smell gauze and antiseptic in the air.Fred offered a grateful look and tilted his head toward the man beside him, the one who helped out with the guys. "Rox, this is Mr. Jones." The name didn’t register until I saw who stood behind him, Mrs. Jones, Angelina’s nanny. She gave me a proud little nod before adding casually, "My husband. Also known around here as the boss’s backdoor doc." I blinked. "Seriously?" "This is the boss's mistress. Lady Roxanne." Mrs. Jones introduced me to her husband. Fred chuckled awkwardly as my cheeks heated up.Mr. Jones chuckled as he shook my hand. "Retired surgeon. I keep my hands full patching up half the city…and occasionally Mr. Raphaël’s men when bullets fly too close." Fred gave a short laugh.I offered a polite, if awkward, smile. "

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