Todos os capítulos de Warm My Bed, Little Pumpkin!: Capítulo 231 - Capítulo 240

EVENING rolled in cloaked in the same familiar quietness that had always wrapped Oswald’s mansion like a silk veil, except tonight, it felt heavier somehow, like something brewing beneath the surface.Oswald and Nathan returned together as usual, the low hum of their conversation dying as they stepped inside. Nathan peeled away to handle something with the new security head while Oswald moved toward the kitchen. He opened the fridge, grabbed a chilled bottle of sparkling water, and twisted the cap open in one smooth motion. He leaned against the counter for a heartbeat, sipping, his mind drifting back to the mild fuss at the office earlier, why the call had dragged him out so abruptly. A miscommunication with a foreign partner, quickly handled and ultimately inconsequential. Still, the residue of that irritation lingered behind his temples.He tossed the empty bottle in the bin and headed for the stairs. The house was unusually still tonight, too still, if he thought about it. Had Que

THE cold night air seemed to seep through the grand foyer, wrapping itself around Oswald like a chilling reminder that for the third time tonight, his guards had failed him. He stood there, statuesque, the only thing moving was the slight twitch of his jaw as his eyes swept over the exhausted, tense men standing in front of him. His hands were clasped behind his back, fingers digging into each other so tightly he could feel his own pulse.They dared not speak, no one did when Oswald was silent. The hum of the security lights outside filled the stillness, casting stark shadows across the marble floors and the stone-cold faces of the guards who had returned once again, empty-handed, without Orlanda.The night had been well spent, the stars above hidden by thick clouds that promised a cruel, biting chill. The entire front yard was drenched in that sterile white glow of security lights, making the armed men look like ghosts drifting into a graveyard of disappointment.Nathan hovered behin

OSWALD'S bedroom felt more like a fortress than a place of rest that morning, curtains half drawn, blocking out the bright midmorning sun that tried to force its way in. The only light inside was the glow of the lamp on his reading desk, but even that seemed too harsh for the mood that clouded the room.He sat on the edge of the massive bed, now clothed in a long robe. His forearms rested on his knees, head lowered, fingers clamped together so tight the knuckles whitened. A half-finished glass of whiskey perched on the side table, untouched since the previous night. Beside it, his phone buzzed for the hundredth time that hour, he ignored it, just like the rest.A low knock at the door broke the heavy silence.“Sir?” Nathan’s careful voice came through, muffled but clear enough to stir him. “Sir, it is Nathan. You have three calls waiting. One from the board, the other from Mr. Cormack at the overseas branch—”“Tell them I’m indisposed,” Oswald cut in, voice hoarse but flat, eyes still

QUEEN could feel her blood pounding at her temples as she stormed down the hallway, heels echoing through the marble foyer. She had had enough, enough of the silence from Oswald, enough of the humiliation of being ignored in his own house, enough of her.Orlanda.That name alone made her teeth grind together.She grabbed her purse and snatched her car keys off the glass console. The early morning sun streamed through the tall foyer windows, catching the glint of metal in her tight grip. She didn’t care. She was done watching him sulk around like a heartbroken child while that worthless maid held him hostage in spirit.She threw the door open, marched out, and halfway down the steps to the garage, she fished her phone out of her bag with shaking fingers. She found Lady Frances’s name in her contacts and pressed ‘call’.The line picked up after two rings.“Queen, darling!” Lady Frances’s voice dripped warmth. “Good morning, dear. How is everything with you and Oswald? I trust he is fina

ORLANDA‘S head still rang with Queen’s voice even long after the door clicked shut. That sharp, venom-laced tone swirling in her mind like a cruel echo she couldn’t shut off.She sat there, on the edge of the small bed, feet pressed flat on the cold tiled floor. The room was warm, but goosebumps rose on her bare arms all the same. The air felt thicker now, heavier with questions she could not find answers to.*He is tearing down walls for you.**He fined his guards two months’ salaries.**He is ignoring me because of you.*The words replayed in her head like an old film on loop. Orlanda wanted to laugh, yes, a sharp, bitter sound that stayed lodged in her chest. Oswald? The same Oswald who had dragged her from her life, bought her like some thing, locked her up, forced himself into every part of her that once belonged to her alone… that Oswald?She clenched her hands into tight fists on her lap, nails digging into her palms until the sting anchored her spinning thoughts.He was cruel.