Todos os capítulos de Warm My Bed, Little Pumpkin!: Capítulo 211 - Capítulo 220

QUEEN heard the soft shuffle of feet behind the door, hesitant, wary, almost childlike. She held her breath, her hand pressed lightly against the doorframe as she strained to catch any sign that Orlanda really would open up this time.When the lock finally clicked and the door eased inward, Queen’s carefully painted smile flickered with true relief. But her relief froze at the sight before her, the figure standing there like a trapped dove in a broken cage.Orlanda stood barefoot on the cold floor, her thin house dress, simple cotton, pale blue, brushing her knees. Her long, dark hair was parted down the middle, falling in soft, slightly tangled waves that framed a face too striking to hide behind neglect. Her eyes were large and glassy brown, they were the kind that told stories without ever moving her lips: stories of sleepless nights, secrets that clung to her skin like dust.A natural beauty. No cosmetics, no jewelry, nothing but the raw bloom of youth and the sadness that made it

QUEEN slammed the door shut behind her, leaning against it for a breathless second, her chest heaving like she had run miles instead of just walking back through Oswald’s halls. The quiet click of the latch felt deafening in her ears, echoing against the walls of her lavish guest room. Her robe fell open slightly at the collar, her pulse fluttering there, an angry red tremor just beneath her skin.She pushed herself off the door and stumbled to the bed, sinking down so hard the mattress dipped beneath her weight. For a heartbeat she sat there, hands braced on her knees, nails digging into the silk of her robe. Then she let out a long, ragged breath, a breath that caught halfway and broke into a soft, disbelieving laugh.It’s true. The words pulsed through her head like a drumbeat. It’s true. It’s true. He really is hiding a girl. That girl…Queen leaned back, staring at the ceiling as though it might spell out the rest for her in gold letters. She could still see Orlanda’s face, that

THE sun was already sinking when Oswald returned home that day, far earlier than he normally would. Everyone in the mansion had learned long ago not to expect him before dusk, but today the front doors swung open just after five, and the air in the mansion changed the instant his shoes struck the marble floor.Queen was waiting for him. She had heard the car, the slam of the door, the clipped steps echoing in the hall. She was perched at the base of the stairs, poised like a trap set with velvet and poison.“Back early?” she asked, her tone sugary enough to rot teeth.Oswald didn’t look at her at first. He shrugged off his coat and tossed it to Nathan who caught it immediately. His eyes were dark, sharp slashes beneath his brow. He shouldered past Queen, but she slipped neatly into his path, blocking the stairs with that infuriating smile.“Why don’t you ever look at me?” she pressed, voice low but edged like a blade. “I mean, really look at me, Oswald. Or is your little maid so good t

QUEEN sat at the edge of the bed, the same bed she had dropped onto just hours ago after her vicious exchange with Oswald. The room was in a mess, her scarf thrown across the floor, her heels kicked off near the door, a glass of untouched water sweating on the nightstand. But the chaos around her felt tame compared to the chaos burning under her skin.Her mind replayed every word she had spat at Oswald, the way he had looked at her like she was a snake in his garden, the way he had stormed off. She should have felt triumphant. She should have felt powerful. Instead, she felt… cheapened. Exhausted. Like she had let her mouth run ahead of her brain and now she had a monster prowling the house, more dangerous than ever, but hey, the plan had worked still.She tugged her silk robe tighter around her shoulders, resting her elbows on her knees. Her phone lay facedown on the dresser beside her, as if ignoring it could keep her betrayal secret a little longer. She had left Carlson to rot on re

ORLANDA jolted upright as the soft but urgent knock rattled the old wooden door again. She had been pacing about the room, twisting the hem of her thin shirt in her trembling hands as she impatiently awaited Queen. The first knock had nearly knocked her heartbeat into her throat, but she didn’t move immediately.She stood, one cautious step after another, until she was only inches from the door. Her fingertips brushed the cool wood, her ear pressed lightly to the rough surface, then she waited. Silence.Then, came another knock.Her heart thudded harder. She needed to be sure if it was Queen or not. So she drew in a breath and asked, voice low but steady, “Who is it?”From the other side, muffled but unmistakable, Queen’s voice slipped through the crack. “It is me, Orlanda. Open up, please.”Relief and fear twisted together in Orlanda’s chest. Quickly, her hand found the lock. It clicked under her fingers and the heavy old door creaked inward just enough to reveal the slender shape of