All Chapters of Ripples And Hills: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Helia.Mum and Dad walk ahead of me. Poised, polished, perfectly composed, as we step into the Hills’ dining hall.Their return was unannounced. They called earlier to say they’d be arriving in my car. A quiet declaration: We’re back. No further explanation. I dressed quickly and went to meet them. They seemed... different. Not romantic, no. But closer. Familiar in a way they hadn’t been in years.When Mum and Hulio first returned to the States, there was awkwardness between all of us, like people who used to live under the same roof, now orbiting different worlds. But somehow we’ve drifted back into something almost normal.“Elviira pleaded with us to attend this dinner,” Mum said earlier, as I drove them here.“Something about her granddaughter. Sounded important.”Her granddaughter? That was strange. She hadn’t said anything to me.I’d staged that entire trip for them—arranged a fabricated “industry convergence” to give them time alone. I wanted them to talk. Heal. Maybe I succeede

Alexa.Wednesday, December 28th. The next day…I’m alone at the dining table, picking at breakfast while my thoughts swing like a pendulum. Last night, the greenhouse, Hulio’s hands on me.The way he touched me... the way he looked at me.Heat stirs in my belly, pooling lower. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to breathe. Is this what those actresses in movies feel when they melt under a man’s touch? I lick my lips, still tasting him in my memory. His mouth on my nipples. Warm. Greedy. Heavenly.My eyes drift to the chair he sat in last night. I can see him again. Right there.Fingers slipping under my slacks in the greenhouse.Then his voice in my ear:‘Shh... Someone’s here.’God. That moment. My breath ragged. My chest tight. My heart slamming around inside me like it wanted to break out. A hundred emotions all at once—fear, shame, thrill. Mostly? Arousal.There was no one there. Maybe a rat. But the fear added to the heat. It made me want him more.When we walked back inside, h

HULIO.Evening.We’re tangled in my sheets. Ashley beneath me, writhing, gasping, alive under my mouth. Her pussy’s hot, slick, sweet as sin. I suck her clit, slow and deliberate. She moans, fingers tangled in my hair, nails raking down my bare back.I slide a finger inside her—deep, curling. Her legs fall open wider, welcoming me. I stroke her, tease her, toy with her beautiful folds.“Cum for me, Ashley… Don’t stop,” I growl into her heat.We’ve been at it since lunch. Neither of us made it back to the office. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve taken her—and how many times she’s taken me. Just thinking of sliding inside her again, I harden.I pull her up, her legs wrapping instinctively around my waist. Her lips part. We’re both panting. I thrust in. Slow. Torturous. Inch by inch, her pussy spreads for me, pulling me in. She’s molten inside.“Hulio…” she cries, voice raw, unguarded.God, I love the sound of her unraveling.She rolls her hips. I suck her nipples, then slide my ha

Alexa.Evening.I drove out earlier to buy some painting supplies. Nothing serious—just brushes, new canvas, a fresh palette. I tried to paint that rose today. The o e I told Hulio. Hulio. His name like magma in my tongue. I shake my thoughts back to the rose.I wanted bold red petals, dewy and soft, kissed by sunlight. But all that came out was black. Bleeding shadows. Thick, clawing darkness. Something inside me felt heavy. I couldn’t explain it.Now I’m driving home. And just as I round the curve leading into Hills Mansion, I see the lights.Red and blue. Flashing. Piercing the dusk like warning flares.I slam the brakes. My breath catches. My chest tightens. My first thought is irrational. Someone’s been robbed. But as I roll closer, I see the line of police cars spread across our driveway like a blockade. My hands begin to shake on the wheel.No.I press the gas. Hard.I swerve into the driveway, barely missing one of the patrol units. I throw the car into park, yank open the doo

Alexa(Prudence)Monday, June 16th, 2025 — Corte, Corsica, France...“To whom it may concern.I, Alexa Hills, hereby declare that henceforth, I will be referred to as Miss Prudence Cateri. All documents remain valid…”My voice trembles as I read the old affidavit. The words burn, each one another cut across the past. A name erased. A life officially buried. The paper is slightly creased, its ink faded at the edges, but the sting it carries is fresh, alive. Two years later, it still feels like a betrayal I signed with my own hands.“I can’t lose my family.”“You have to, in order to gain everything back.”Helia’s voice drifts in from a memory. The soft, steel-cloaked sadness in his eyes the night he walked me to the jet. His shoulders square, his jaw tight, but his heart had bled. From his father’s death. I saw it. Felt it.“My journey ends here,” he’d said, pulling away from our final embrace. “I have to ensure that they believe you’re dead.”Dead.That word haunted me then. It owns me