All Chapters of Warm My Bed, Little Pumpkin!: Chapter 261 - Chapter 270

BACK in the stark room where Queen and Rob sat like prisoners stripped of their crowns, the air felt heavy with the sharp scent of expensive cologne and the underlying tension of unspoken rage. Oswald stood by the door, his hands tucked in his pockets, eyes drilling holes through Queen, who could barely meet his gaze. Rob sat hunched at her side, staring at the floor like a scolded child.Queen’s voice cracked as she tried to speak again, her tone trembling with a desperate sweetness that felt foreign to her lips now.“Oswald, please… you know I did what you tagging as crime because I love you. I wanted you for myself. She… she was in the way. I thought if—”Oswald’s cold, humorless chuckle cut her off. He stepped forward, just enough to make her shrink back into her seat.“Queen,” he said, drawing out her name like poison. “I guess by now you should know that whatever thing you think we had… it is ended. Huh?” His head tilted a fraction, the disdain curling at the corner of his mouth

“OH God! That is Oswald!” Orlanda rasped out, her voice caught somewhere between disbelief and terror as she backed away from the window, turning sharply to Winifred with eyes wide, wild and accusing.Winifred recoiled at once, hands up like a startled cat. “I didn’t— Orlanda, I swear to God, I didn’t do that!” she stammered, voice cracking in panic. She grabbed Orlanda’s wrist, shaking her head furiously as if to shake the suspicion right out of her friend’s mind. “I didn’t tell anyone anything, I wouldn’t! I swear on my mother’s life, I didn’t—”But Orlanda was barely hearing her. Her heart was roaring in her ears like a hurricane. She peered back at the black car, her entire body trembling as memories of the cold marble floors, the suffocating silence of Oswald’s mansion, the sharp sting of his cruel commands, the look in his eyes when he decided her fate without blinking, all of it came rushing at her in a tidal wave of dread.“Then how—” Orlanda’s voice cracked, but she never go

IN the quiet warmth of Winifred’s small, flower-scented room, the air felt heavy, not just with the scent of body cream and fresh bedsheets, but with secrets and regrets that no candle could mask. Orlanda sat cross-legged on the edge of Winifred’s bed, her tear-streaked face still flushed from all the rage and humiliation of the evening. Her hair, loose now, curtained her downcast eyes as she wiped at them with the back of her hand.Beside her, Winifred sat like a guilty child herself, twisting the hem of her blouse as she avoided her aunt’s eyes. Gloria and Jude, still fully dressed in his work clothes but looking drained, perched at the foot of the bed. Ethan and Enoch, hovered near the door like little criminals waiting for sentencing.The room was small, pale pink curtains fluttered from the evening breeze, the small TV sat idle, the tiny shelf of books leaned with Winifred’s old novels. But tonight, that room was the courtroom for truths too big for its four walls.Orlanda had sp

THE room fell into a profound silence, the air thick with emotion and disbelief. Orlanda stood with her eyes wide in disbelief, her fingers curling around each other, her breath shaky. Winifred stood beside her, rubbing her back gently like one would do a child broken by life’s unfairness.Oswald stood a few feet away, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his black trousers, his jaw clenched. He had said the words, ‘I’m sorry,’ but they had cost him more than anyone could understand. They weren’t just words; they were the crack in the armor he had worn for years. That apology had made him vulnerable… in front of everyone.Nathan looked stunned. Vincenzo sat still, eyes darting between Orlanda and Oswald like he was witnessing history unfold.Orlanda sniffed, blinking back more tears. “I want answers,” she finally spoke, her voice quiet but steady. “Real answers.”“You will get them Orlanda,” Oswald replied. “All of them. On your terms.”She looked at him, her eyes searching his fa

THE beautiful Monday morning cast a soft golden hue across the city streets as Oswald’s black SUV cruised smoothly through the bustling traffic. Orlanda and Oswald sat quietly in the back seat, an invisible wall drawn thick between them. Nathan occupied the front beside the chauffeur, barely uttering a word, sensing the tension that weighed down the air like a brewing storm.Orlanda faced the window the entire time, her cheek resting against the glass ever so lightly as her eyes followed the passing scenes, the pedestrians, the noisy market women, the schoolchildren with lunchboxes, the suited workers with briefcases. Each passing image seemed to mock her silence, only deepening the chaos of thoughts swirling within her.Oswald sat beside her in muted pain, glancing at her every now and then. He hoped… no, begged silently for a word from her. Any word. A "yes", a "no", a scoff, even a sigh that meant she acknowledged his presence. But nothing came. She ignored him completely, as thoug