Semua Bab Forbidden Affairs : Bab 111 - Bab 120

The black SUV came to a slow stop on the gravel driveway, dust curling up in the early evening air. Adrian watched from his bedroom window, one leg tucked under him, the other bare and stretched toward the glass, his phone forgotten in his lap. His lips curled. The new bodyguard had arrived. The fourth in six months.He rose slowly, letting the robe slip lower on his shoulder as he made his way downstairs. He didn’t care who his father had sent this time. They all left eventually, tired of being babysitters or tempted by things they shouldn’t want.The door opened before Adrian reached it. A man stepped in, tall, broad, cut from something older than time. A canvas of muscle beneath plain black clothes. Short dark hair. Clean-shaven jaw. Quiet presence that filled the entire room without a single word.Adrian leaned against the banister, dragging his eyes up and down that solid body. “You must be Elias.”Elias looked at him. Just looked. No smile. No hello. Just a flicker of something

The afternoon sun had already dipped below the skyline, leaving the city streets bathed in a dim orange haze. Celeste sat in the back of the sleek black sedan, her legs crossed, one stiletto heel tapping against the leather seat as she scrolled aimlessly through her phone. Her husband’s voice was still ringing in her ears from his last call: curt, distracted, barely acknowledging her. Another “important meeting” meant another evening alone. Celeste hated the loneliness, but even more than that, she hated the feeling of being invisible.She glanced up from her phone and caught Damon’s eyes in the rearview mirror. His gaze lingered for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before he turned it back to the road. There was something about that stare of his—dark, unreadable, and unflinching—that made her stomach tighten. He was nothing like her husband’s usual staff. No obsequious smiles, no needless chatter. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and effortlessly confident, his black unifor

The air in the house felt heavier than usual. Maybe it was the heat, or maybe it was the way she looked at him. Either way, Ryan couldn’t ignore it anymore. Not after tonight.It started innocent enough. His sister, Alina, had just returned from college for the summer. He hadn’t expected her to bring anyone, but when the front door opened and Aria walked in behind her, suitcase in hand and wearing that short denim skirt and sly grin, Ryan felt something shift. He hadn’t seen her in two years. The last time she was in this house, she was seventeen. Too young, too loud, too bold.She was twenty now. Still loud. Still bold. But very much not a kid anymore.He told himself it wouldn’t matter. She was Alina’s best friend. Practically family. And he’d built his whole life around keeping things clean. Structured. Under control. He wasn’t going to throw that away just because a girl batted her lashes at him. No matter how pretty her mouth was. No matter how long her legs looked in those short

The new house was too white. The walls, the marble, the stupid piano no one played. Brielle felt out of place the second she stepped through the door, her combat boots echoing over the spotless floors. She didn’t belong here. Her mother marrying up didn’t magically turn her into someone who fit into mansions and weekend golf clubs. But she didn’t say anything. She just shoved her duffel bag over her shoulder, nodded at her new stepfather’s awkward attempt at warmth, and tried not to glare at the girl standing silently on the staircase.Delilah.Her new stepsister.She was tall, poised, and cold in a way Brielle had only seen in fashion magazines and movies with British accents. Her blonde hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, her button-down shirt tucked in too perfectly, as if she woke up every morning to be photographed. Her eyes flicked over Brielle like she was dirt tracked in on a clean floor.“Your room’s upstairs. Last door on the left,” Delilah said without smiling, without e

They swore it wouldn’t happen again. Swore with the smell of sex still hanging between them and their bodies tangled in sweat and silence. But Brielle knew the way Delilah clung to her after was not a goodbye. It was a promise. A weak one. One neither of them believed. When morning came, Delilah was gone from her side, the silk robe missing, her presence wiped clean like she had never been there. Except for the faint pink nail marks on Brielle’s back. The scent of her still clinging to her skin. The ache between her legs that reminded her exactly what she’d done. What they’d done.She didn’t see Delilah all day.The house felt colder without her, too quiet. Brielle lit a cigarette, paced the kitchen, scrolled through her phone just to hear noise. She hated the waiting. Hated how much she wanted her to walk back into the room and act like nothing happened. Or maybe act like it meant everything.When the front door creaked open around noon, Brielle’s heart kicked like a trap snapping sh