All Chapters of Filthy Obsessions. A Filthy Collection Of Forbidden Desires: Chapter 121 - Chapter 127

Liv stood frozen in the hallway, ear pressed to the war-room door.Her father’s voice was ice.“We ride at dawn. Full strength. Cade’s gone rogue. The omega’s poisoned him. We take the boy, we take the Relic, we end this before Christmas. No survivors.”Liv’s stomach flipped.She backed away slow, heart hammering so loud she was scared they’d hear it.Cade and Nora had escaped two nights ago.She’d watched them climb out the window.She’d seen the blood trail in the snow.She’d heard the guards screaming.And she hadn’t said a damn word.Because Cade was her brother.And Noah was the closest thing to family Cade had ever had.So she did the only thing she could think of.She walked into the kitchen like nothing was wrong.Aunt Denise was elbow-deep in chili, sweat on her forehead.Aunt Carla was rolling pie crust and singing off-key Christmas carols.Aunt Marla was chopping onions and crying harder than usual.Grandma sat at the table peeling potatoes like she was skinning enemies.Li

Bonnie Finley slid the last crumpled hundred across the dock to the dude in the hoodie. He pocketed it without blinking and jerked a thumb at the sub.“Get in. Don’t barf. They hate cleaning that shit up at depth.”She grinned, heart already racing. “Not my first rodeo, dude.”The Abyssal looked like a rich man’s toy—sleek, white, mean. Inside it smelled like cold steel, expensive perfume, and pure trouble. Red lights, low bass thumping through the hull, maybe twenty people already half-drunk and horny. Tech guys in open shirts, women in tiny dresses that cost more than her car. Bonnie felt the buzz the second she stepped in. This was exactly the kind of stupid she needed for the story.She grabbed a gin at the bar. The silver-haired bartender winked. “First time? You look like you’re hunting.”“Hunting’s the plan,” Bonnie shot back, sipping slow. “Any recommendations?”The bartender laughed. “See the guy by the bulkhead? Ink on his neck, looks like he eats trouble for breakfast? That

Bonnie burst through the clinic doors like she was on fire. “I need to see someone right now,” she told the receptionist, voice shaking. “It’s an emergency. There’s something… inside me.”The receptionist—young, bored, chewing gum—barely looked up. “Name? Insurance?”“Bonnie Finley. No insurance. Cash. Please, just get me in.”Ten minutes later she was in the exam room, legs in stirrups again, heart slamming so hard she could feel it in her throat. Dr. Patel walked in with a nurse trailing him. Same guy from earlier? No—different name tag. Dr. Ramirez this time. Older, tired eyes, clipboard in hand.“Okay, Ms. Finley,” he said, scanning the intake form. “You’re saying you believe you’ve been… infected by a deep-sea parasite? From sexual contact? And it’s making you glow and hear voices?”Bonnie nodded fast. “Yes. Exactly. Look between my legs—there’s this blue-green light under the skin. It pulses. And it talks to me. Plural. Like a group. It made me black out last night from coming t