All Chapters of Bred By My Billionaire Boss: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE~ Stephano I came out of the bathroom, towel slung low around my hips, dabbing the steam from my jaw with one of those overpriced hotel linen cloths she liked.My hair was still wet, sticking to my neck. Florida heat clung to me like sin, even though I’d landed back in the city last night. My muscles ached.Isabella was here. Again. Always here, when I got back from a trip like that.She said she missed me.I didn’t answer.Because I didn’t know how to lie anymore. Not convincingly. Not to her. Not when the fucking truth had its nails buried so deep in me I couldn’t breathe.I walked out into the suite, towel drying my hair, and there she was, already out of bed. Already naked.Jesus.She hadn’t even tried to be coy about it. No lingerie. No teasing. Just fully bare, like she’d peeled herself down to the skin before I could even open the bathroom door. Her nipples were tight, her thighs pressed.She was throwing herself at me. That was how horny she was. I used to

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE~ Stephano He walked in like a fucking storm cloud in a tux.Stephano Maddens. Broad-shouldered, smug-mouthed, wet-haired, sin-stained bastard of a man.The second I saw him across the ballroom, I knew I was in trouble.My heart didn’t beat. It slammed. My body didn’t freeze. It short-circuited. And the worst part? I felt it, between my legs, low in my belly, a flutter, a pulse, that sick, shameful heat I thought I’d buried weeks ago.No.No, no, no.Not again. Not this time.I looked away like I hadn’t noticed. Like I didn’t care. Like I hadn’t once dropped to my knees in his office, let him whisper filth into my ear while he ruined me with his cock and his voice and that maddening smirk.He’s just a man, I told myself.A man with too many suits and a dick that made stupid girls forget their dignity.I am not a stupid girl anymore.Alex said something, something kind and sweet, but I didn’t hear it. Not when I could feel Stephano’s eyes slicing through the room l

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE~ Camilla ~My feet hit the floor like dead weight, heels kicked off with zero ceremony. I didn’t even make it all the way onto the bed, just collapsed sideways, dress still halfway zipped, skin clammy from too many rooms, too many eyes, too many carefully held expressions. My makeup was smudged, my hair still pinned in the shape of the night.I was exhausted in a way that sleep wouldn’t fix.My phone buzzed somewhere beneath me. I ignored it at first.If it was Stephano again, I wasn’t responding. I couldn’t. I didn’t have the energy to be manipulated or adored or accused or whatever the hell he’d decided to be tonight.But when I finally reached over, glanced at the screen…It wasn’t him.It was Alex.ALEX: Hey. Just wanted to check, did you get home okay?I stared at the text, unmoving.I let the message sit there for a full minute, heart skittering in my ribs like I’d been caught doing something illicit. It was just a check-in. Just words on a screen.ME: Yeah.

~ CamillaIt was a Saturday. The kind of Saturday that makes you question your entire personality, your choices, and whether or not you’re secretly an emotional masochist. I stood in front of Alex’s apartment door, holding a box of pastries like it was some kind of peace offering. Which, in a way, it was. Because Stephano had been brutal the night before to Alex, to me and to the general atmosphere of sanity. He had caught us kissing and went full Gladiator. No sword, but lots of sharp words and rage. Honestly, the testosterone levels in the room were so high I’m pretty sure I ovulated and panicked all at once.So now, here I was about to walk into the apartment of my very sweet, very understanding boyfriend and pretend that my whole internal world wasn’t on fire. Alex opened the door in a hoodie and socks. Hair soft and messy like he’d just woken up from the most well-adjusted nap in the history of naps.“Hey,” he said, eyes crinkling into that nice, wholesome smile of his. “You bro

~ CamillaThe cold crept in faster than I thought it would. At first, I thought I could power through. I wrapped the scratchy hotel blanket tighter around myself and ignored the ache in my back from the tile. I told myself I was fine. That this wasn’t so bad. That frostbite was better than sin.Then I sneezed.Just once.Then twice. Then I kept sneezing. Repeated, messy, pathetic little explosions of breath that I tried to stifle but failed miserably. It was like my immune system had finally joined in the sabotage. Like my body had taken Stephano’s side.“Jesus Christ,” I heard him mutter from above. “You’re gonna get pneumonia out of spite.”“I’m fine,” I said weakly, sniffling into the pillow.“You sound like a dying Victorian child.”“Screw you.”“You’re shivering.”“I’m…not.”I sneezed again. And again. By the eighth sneeze, the bed creaked, and I knew. I knew the moment had arrived.“Camilla,” Stephano said, voice dark, low, and so utterly over it. “Get. On. The. Bed.”“No.”“I’m