All Chapters of His Bride By Force: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

KILLIAN The drive home was hell.Every red light, every slow turn, every time she shifted in her seat, I felt it. I could feel the heat radiating off her, the way her thighs pressed together as though she was trying to keep herself from coming apart. I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned bone-white.When we finally pulled into the garage, I killed the engine, got out, and opened her door without a word. She giggled as I wrapped my arms around her waist and led her upstairs. We stopped by Rue's room to find her asleep.Then we proceeded to head to my room. The moment the doors slid shut, her back was pressed against it. I caged her in with my arms, my breath hot against her lips."You've been pushing me all night, Angel." I whispered.Her lips parted, but I didn't give her the chance to answer. I kissed her hard, basking in the soft moan that escaped her throat. My hands were everywhere. On her waist, her hips, and up her thighs, mapping every curve. And I was pr

SERA. The funny thing about assassins is that we're great with knives, poisons, and making bodies disappear... but frosting? Not so much.The cake on my counter looked like it had been through a car crash. It had lopsided layers, and one candle was leaning to the side so badly, it was practically trying to escape. But I was proud. Because it wasn't a weapon, it was a birthday cake for my husband.In the midst of all the chaos that Black Scorpion had caused, how could I forget my husband's birthday? Especially when it was a day worth celebrating?"Is this poison?" Rue asked for the third time, her little hand hovering dangerously close to the frosting."Not for your daddy, no," I said, slapping her wrist lightly. "For you, maybe."She grinned like a mini criminal and went back to licking icing off her fingers when she thought I wasn't looking.The plan was simple: surprise Killian with Rue and me singing "Happy Birthday" off-key, and force him to eat cake, which he pretends to hat

KILLIAN Sera hadn't spoken in over an hour. She was curled up in my lap on the couch, her head pressed into my chest. My hand moved slowly up and down her back, but it was as much for me as it was for her. I needed to feel her breathing.Roman's voice was a low rumble from across the room, telling me what happened in that warehouse parking lot. The words were just background noise against the sound of her shallow breaths and the faint ticking of the clock on the mantel."...clean shot. Long-range. There was no clear line of sight to the shooter. They were gone before I could get a read on direction," Roman finished.My jaw tightened. "And you made sure no one followed you back here?"He nodded. "We switched cars twice. We weren't tailed."I glanced down at her. She still hadn't looked at me since Roman brought her home. Her eyes were glassy but dry, her mouth pressed into a thin, stubborn line. I knew that look. She was holding everything in, locking it down so tight she might

SERA Rafael didn't even give me time to protest before steering me towards the couch as if I was a fragile antique vase about to topple over."Sit," he ordered, dropping the med kit on the coffee table with a soft thud.I sat, partly because I was too tired to argue and partly because I was distracted by the fact that he looked like he'd just rolled out of a horror movie marathon. There were dark half-moons under his eyes, his skin was pale as though he'd been locked in a basement for a week, and his hair... okay, his hair was gorgeous. Still, this was unlike him."You look like death warmed over," I informed him, leaning back into the cushions. "Like, not even fresh death. More like death that's been microwaved twice and forgotten on the counter."He smirked, the corner of his mouth tilting up in that smug Cross family way. "Cute. But maybe you should be a little more concerned about yourself, sweetheart.""Oh, I am," I said, gesturing vaguely to my whole fever-ravaged self. "B

RAFAEL My knuckles tightened around the steering wheel as I drove towards Ethan's penthouse. It was raining again. Of course it was. The universe had a sick sense of humor. Honestly, it felt like it was a moody teenager with a grudge against me personally.I hadn't slept in three nights. Not really. Maybe an hour here, twenty minutes there, before the sound of a phantom box at my door snapped me back awake. Red boxes. Always red. Carlos had taste, I'll give him that—sick, psychotic taste, but consistent branding nonetheless.The boxes usually contained nude photos of me from years ago. Things I didn't even remember taking. My old medical badge soaked in something that looked an awful lot like blood. A tooth once. Human? Animal? I wasn't about to run a lab test.I pressed harder on the wheel, the veins in my hand twitching. My head was a drumbeat, pounding with every passing streetlight. I needed painkillers and sleeping pills. Anything that could shut my brain up for just one night