Semua Bab Beware Dear Ex, I’m Back For Revenge: Bab 141 - Bab 150

LUCASI planted a kiss on her sweaty forehead, then turned and picked up the remote, increasing the air conditioning in the room so she could sleep better. My eyes fell to her body which I had decorated with marks and bites, and her throat where my finger prints showed clearly. A rush of possessiveness filled me despite everything. I wanted Zayn to see what she enjoyed. What got her pussy wet and throbbing. I wanted him to see what I could do to her and how much she liked it to let me do it to her. I knew her pussy was red and sore, I hadn’t exactly been easy on her. It had been so fucking long, I was already hard again but I knew I had to wait for her to wake from her little nap before fucking her again. And I wanted to fuck her again.She was so fucking beautiful, so sexy to be someone else's. Was giving up even the right choice? It was not looking like that anymore. Seemed like I would have to fight. I was not ready to let her go, just because she thought she could have a better

CLARA My throat felt dry and my muscles were sorer than when I had gorilla sex with Lucas. There was no light. Not even a crack. The air was heavy, damp, like wet towels left in a sealed bag. I tried to move my wrists first. They were tied, not too tight, but firm enough that I wasn’t getting out without effort. My ankles too. Cold steel. I shifted, letting out a groan. My head pulsed as if I’d been drugged, and my back felt like it had met concrete more than once. I didn’t know where I was, but the floor was cold, hard, and smelled of something rusted. Not blood. Metal. Fear gripped me like a vice. The last thing I recalled was being in an Uber. How the hell had I ended up… here? I licked my lips, but my tongue was dry. I wondered how long I was taken here, and by who? My voice cracked as I tried to speak. “Hello?” No response. I waited. Still nothing. “Hey! Is anyone here?” I said louder. There was a sound from somewhere above me. Footsteps. Slow ones. Then the sou

LUCASI saw a woman—a nurse from the old orphanage we once donated to—hugging a child. Then another. Five or six in total, all around the same age bracket. I didn’t recognize the kids, but she was whispering to them and ushering them toward a bus parked away from the crowd. A discreet white bus with tinted windows. No markings. Not government. Not school-owned either.I started walking faster.By the time I caught up to them, she had gotten the kids into the bus and was standing outside, arms crossed, talking on the phone with someone. I called her name which was written on a tag on her chest.“Madam Flora.”She turned and squinted. Then she gasped. “Mr Sinclair?”“Are those the children?”Her face went pale. She glanced toward the bus then back at me.“What are you doing here?” she asked sharply.“Are those the children from the second building?”She hesitated.“They’re not supposed to be seen here. Nobody is. We’re trying to get them back to a safehouse.”“So they’re alive.” I stepp

CLARABy the time I woke up, the house was quiet again. Lucas had left. I’d heard the door close much earlier, half-asleep, too exhausted to care.I sat up slowly. The bruises still ached, but they were healing. My skin was sore, but my bones were intact at least, praise the Lord.I was not completely healed, yes, but I was not really broken too. Lucas had been taking care of me. Zayn never called. Not once. I didn’t know how I felt about that, honestly.The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and coffee. The floors had recently been cleaned. Left a fresh mug on the table. I walked barefoot to the bathroom, brushed my teeth with the spare toothbrush he’d laid out for me, then stared at my reflection for a full minute.I didn’t recognize myself. Dull eyes and hollow cheeks, I’d have to get used to that. These days I barely had an appetite. I didn’t cry, though. Instead, I dressed up. One of Lucas’s t-shirts and pair of sweats, then I sat by the window and just stared out.Much later, I h

ZAYNThe hospital was already full by mid-morning. I handled back-to-back patients—nothing life-threatening, just a lot at once. A teenager with a dislocated shoulder from a football game, a middle-aged man with chest pain that turned out to be acid reflux, a little boy who fell off a bike and needed three stitches above his eyebrow. I kept my gloves on for hours, moving from one room to the next. The nurses barely had time to sit, and neither did I. Still, I preferred it that way. Days like this left little room to think about anything else.I ran on coffee and protein bars, skipped lunch completely. At one point, someone told a joke at the nurse’s station that made everyone laugh. I smiled a little but didn’t ask what it was about. I finished my charting fast and kept moving.By the time my shift ended around five, I felt the tightness in my neck and lower back. I drove straight to Andy’s place. He lived in an exclusive penthouse dad got him on the east side, quiet street, no traffi