All Chapters of Sugar Daddy Vampire: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

The scent of sizzling patties and melted cheese hung heavy in the air of the little burger joint. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was private enough for them to gather without eyes or ears on them. Chloe slid into the red leather booth first, Zoe right beside her, while Melinda and Diana sat across the table. A greasy paper basket of fries sat in the middle, untouched. Nobody was hungry; the weight of the conversation pressed heavier than food. “So…” Diana broke the silence, her voice calm but steady, her hands folded neatly on the table. “I’ve been thinking about your mom, Chloe. I know she’s sick, and I know the hospice is keeping her comfortable, but I believe I can do more than that. I believe I can heal her.” Chloe’s head snapped up, hope and disbelief crashing together. “Heal her? Diana… are you saying… You can actually heal her?” Diana gave a small nod. “Yes. I’ve been studying the old rites, the deeper magic my family kept hidden. It’s risky. It’s exhausting. But it’s possible

The bell above the diner door jingled as Chloe pushed it open, Zoe trailing just behind her. Diana was still at the booth with Melinda, sipping her soda with that infuriating smirk. Melinda, though, sat slouched forward, her hands clenched tight in her lap, her eyes swollen red from holding back tears. When she saw Zoe walk back in, her breath caught. “Zoe…” she whispered, almost afraid to speak her name. Diana raised a brow, leaning back smugly. “Well, this should be interesting.” Chloe shot her a glare. “Stop, Diana. Stay out of this.” Diana chuckled, but for once, kept quiet. Zoe slid into the booth, across from Melinda. She didn’t speak, her eyes guarded, her shoulders stiff. The silence stretched, heavy, until Melinda finally broke it with a trembling voice. “I’m sorry.” She swallowed, lifting her gaze. “I should’ve told you the truth about… everything. Not just the strip club. Not just the little secrets I thought I was protecting you from. I should’ve trusted you with al

Chloe unlocked her apartment door, still replaying the night’s tangled emotions in her head, Zoe storming out, Melinda’s confession, Diana’s smirk, and the fragile reconciliation she had just left behind. She was exhausted, ready to just have her bath, and collapse into bed. But the moment she stepped inside, her breath caught. The apartment was filled with roses. Not a vase, not a bouquet, but an avalanche of crimson blooms, so many that they spilled from massive glass urns and ribbon-tied bundles onto the floor, carpeting the entryway like a path of blood-colored petals. The fragrance was dizzying, almost suffocating, the air thick with sweetness. Her heart thudded. She didn’t need to ask who had done this. Only one man had the audacity, the resources, and most importantly, the power to break into her home without so much as a knock. Valerius. Chloe’s hands curled into fists. The flowers weren’t a gesture of love, they were a declaration. A reminder. He could touch her world w

The room was dim, the air thick with the scent of lavender and something unspoken, a tension that coiled like smoke between them. Chloe's knees trembled as she climbed onto the bed, never breaking eye contact with Valerius. He lay back against the pillows, his vampire beauty both terrifying and enthralling in the low light. She straddled his hips, one hand reaching between them to guide his hardening length to her entrance. Then, slowly, she sank, taking him inside her inch by delicious inch. They both moaned at the sensation, Valerius's hands gripping her waist. Riding him was a new experience, one that gave Chloe a sense of control she'd never had before. She set the pace, slow at first, savoring the way he stretched and filled her so perfectly. His fingers dug into her hips as she rolled above him, increasing her speed and pressure. "Fuck," Valerius gasped, head tilting back against the pillow. "You feel incredible. Like you were made for me." His words sent a shiver through

Chloe sat curled on the velvet sofa of the city room, her legs tucked under her as she traced the rim of her teacup absently. The mansion felt too quiet tonight, too heavy with the weight of her thoughts. Valerius leaned casually against the fireplace, his dark eyes studying her as if he already knew what was on her mind. Finally, she broke the silence. “I know the last three days are going to be… very critical,” she said softly, her voice almost trembling. “In this whole turning process. Could you…” she hesitated, her eyes flicking to him, “…could you tell me what those critical things are?” Valerius pushed off the mantel, crossing the room with deliberate, unhurried steps. When he reached her, he crouched down so his face was level with hers. “Sugar,” he murmured, his tone low, almost coaxing, “pay no concern to that. I’m here to support you all the way. If I told you, it would linger in your mind and breed fear. And fear is what makes the change hardest. I won’t let you suffer,