All Chapters of Warm My Bed, Little Pumpkin!: Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

THE dim light in the room barely illuminated the bruises that lined Orlanda's skin. Tears streamed down her face, hot and relentless, soaking into the pillow beneath her. She had passed out, and all Oswald could do was pour water on her to revive her, and it did worked.Her body ached in places she hadn't known could hurt. For days now, she had known no peace. Oswald had taken every part of her. If he was known as ruthless, then she had truly lived to experience it, in the worst way possible. Her lips trembled as she curled herself into a tighter ball on the bed. What exactly was going on out there? Something was wrong. She could feel it.Oswald had shut everyone out. She had overheard Nathan grumbling about his boss not picking up calls, not going to work, not responding to even his family. And yet, in the solitude of his mansion, he had chosen to unleash every ounce of his anger on her. Why? Why was she the one paying the price for whatever demons haunted him? A shudder ran th

AS though he had been stung by his words, Nathan stood rooted to the spot, staring at Oswald as if he had just spoken in an alien language. Did he just hear correctly? Oswald was ordering Carlson's release? Carlson Jacobi, the man who had tried to kill him? The very man Oswald had sworn to make suffer for eternity? Nathan's lips parted, but no words came out. This wasn't just surprising, it was unbelievable. In all his years working under Oswald, he had never, not once, seen him release someone from his clutches. Prisoners of The House never walked free. Ever. Oswald's punishments were absolute, his vengeance ironclad. So why was Carlson suddenly an exception? Nathan's confusion must have been visible because Oswald's cold voice sliced through the heavy silence. "You are still here." Nathan blinked, realizing he was still standing motionless, his expression openly stunned. "I..." he started, but trailed off. Oswald narrowed his eyes. "Say whatever is on your mind, Nathan.

LADY Frances sat motionless in her lavishly decorated bedroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, but one thing was clear, she had made a grave mistake. The argument with Carlson had left her shaken. She had fought so hard to bring him back, and for what? To be ridiculed? To be dismissed like she meant nothing? She let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes. I should never have interfered... A part of her wanted to distance herself from Carlson forever, but another part, the mother in her, couldn't bring herself to let him go. But at that moment, she knew there was someone more important. Oswald. He always was. The son who actually deserved her love. The son who had every reason to hate her, but still, deep down, she knew he wouldn't. She had to make things right. Lady Frances stood up abruptly and rang the servant's bell. A maid appeared within seconds. "Inform Lord Dino that we are visiting Oswald this evening," she instructed. "He i

THE dim light in the living room flickered slightly, casting long shadows against the darkened walls. Carlson sat in his leather chair, a glass of whiskey in one hand, the other resting over the armrest, fingers tapping lightly. The room was quiet, save for the faint ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner and the occasional rustle of leaves outside. The wounds on his body had mostly healed, but patches of bandages still clung to his skin like reminders of his time in Oswald's custody. Then, his phone rang. Carlson frowned, setting down his glass. It was late, and he wasn't expecting any calls. The number on the screen was unfamiliar, yet something about it sent a strange chill down his spine. He hesitated for a moment before answering. "Hello?" A deep, cackling laugh greeted him from the other end. A laugh he hadn't heard in years. "Dad?" Carlson said, his voice uncertain. Another chuckle. "Well, well, well. You still recognize your old man, huh?" Carlson exhaled sharp

OSWALD sat behind his massive mahogany desk, his fingers absentmindedly tapping against the cool surface. His mind was clouded, his usual sharp focus slipping as he stared blankly at the documents in front of him. The memories of the dinner he had with his family, for the first time in months, and all that transpired couldn't leave his mind. He was always gushing over it, thinking. And then also, his mother asking about Orlanda, and saying sweet things about her. He sighed and just then... a distraction, perfect or not?It was his phone, it buzzed, he glanced at the screen. Queen. He hesitated for a moment before, for some reason, picking up. "Oswald?" Queen's voice was almost breathless, as though she hadn't expected him to answer. There was a pause before she continued, her tone softer than usual. "Finally, you decided to pick up a call. Do you know how worried I have been?" Oswald leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple. "I'm fine." His voice lacked its usual sharpness, th