Todos los capítulos de Your dad is mine: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

CATHERINE My breath came in shallow gasps as his hands inched further up my thigh. I pressed my breast flat against his chest, feeling the need to do more than close the distance between us, my hands tangling in his hair.I sighed softly as his lips hovered over the shell of my ear.“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.” He whispered, his voice thick with desire. My breath hitched as he trailed kissed down my jaw, then my neck, his hands on my waist tightened as a low growl rumbled from him.In one swift movement he flipped us, laying me flat on the table.His dark eyes trained on me, his hands already finding mine. “You’re so beautiful Catherine.”Heat pooled in my stomach and my head dipped backwards with a gasp. He grabbed me by the neck, gently pulling me toward him. His breath fanned against my cheeks as he looked at me with those damn eyes, those deep blue hues swirling with everything unsaid.He leaned in, burying his face in my hair, exhaling like I was air he’d b

Ronald never showed. He missed the meeting, and I couldn’t tell if I was more disappointed or concerned.The day blurred by in a haze of back-to-back work. I barely noticed the sun dipping low until Shelly knocked on my office door.“I brought donuts,” she announced, holding up the bag like a trophy.My stomach growled like it had been personally offended. “What would I do without you?” I asked, breathing in the sugary goodness.“That smells amazing,” I added as she sat down and opened the bag.We dug in. Halfway through her second bite, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, and her cheeks flushed instantly.“I, uh… I’ve gotta head home,” she said, standing abruptly. “Don’t stay too late, okay?”I raised a brow. “This have anything to do with Mr. Gazillionaire?”“Yeah,” she answered shyly. “He’s making dinner.”My heart melted. “I’m glad you’re happy with him.”She gave me a quick hug, slung her bag over her shoulder. “Me too. Good night, Miss Catherine!”She practically ran ou

CATHERINEI stared at the package on my table like it might grow legs and walk away. It hadn’t been there last night. I would’ve seen it. I always saw everything. But this… this simple, unassuming brown box had appeared sometime between my morning coffee and brushing Ellie’s hair into a tight braid. No doorbell, no knock, no shadow across the porch and worst of all, no sender.I inhaled slowly, keeping my breath shallow as my hesitant fingers brushed over the rough cardboard like it might bite me. I reached for a pen from the counter, using it to slice through the tape, half-expecting it to be some kind of sick prank with fingers and blood with a note like in the movies.Lucky me. Nothing of that sort happened. The only thing inside was a single sheet of paper. No glitter. No blood. Just a plain white page.I pulled it out with trembling fingers.“Happy New Year, Catherine.”That was it. No punctuation. No name. Nothing. The message was so simple it should’ve been laughable, but somet

CATHERINEThe shrill ringing of my phone was what woke me up. For a second I thought I was dreaming but when the sound persisted I groaned, flailing an arm across my nightstand until my fingers brushed the phone.I squinted at the screen. It was… Ronald. My heart stuttered and I checked the time.2:13 a.m.Why in the world would he be calling this late?I thumbed the green icon. “Ronald?” My voice was still heavy with sleep.“Catherine,” he said, but his voice had an edge, almost like he was paranoid. “What do you really know about the man you let into your house?”My brows furrowed, my brain was still trying to come to terms that I was just pulled out from a very pleasant dream about chocolate. “What? Are you talking about Marcus?”Silence.I gave a short, incredulous laugh. “You seriously called me in the middle of the night because you’re jealous of my guest?”“Catherine.” His tone was sharper this time. “I’m asking you again… what do you really know about him?”Something in my ch

RONALDI was furious. Not just irritated, not just angry… no, the kind of fury that gnaws at your ribs and makes your hands curl into fists before you even realize it. Frankie was getting creative now, and Catherine had ended up getting hurt because of it. It could have been a hell of a lot worse if I hadn’t been there when it happened.And the worst part? She wouldn’t back down. I could tell her a thousand times to step out of this damn election and she’d look at me with that steel in her eyes, the same stubbornness that’s going to get her killed one day. She was too strong for her own good.Now, I didn’t just have to think about direct attacks. Frankie was branching out, trying new angles. That meant more ways for things to go wrong.Quinn had finally set up a meeting, and I was driving toward the agreed location… The Black Spur. Joe, the bastard of a bar owner, had “generously” offered his place. Not like he had a choice. When I asked for the favor, it wasn’t exactly a question.My