All Chapters of Craving The Enemy: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

CHAPTER 131TYLER The priest’s voice echoed through the church, low and heavy.“May the Lord grant Clara eternal rest…”His words blurred. My eyes were on the coffin. White roses framed the edges, her picture placed on top. She didn’t deserve this.The air inside the church was thick, like grief itself had weight. People whispered in clusters. Some cried quietly. Others… looked like they were here to watch a show.I hated that kind of crowd.Outside, I could hear camera clicks even though we were behind closed doors. Paparazzi. Of course. They never missed a scandal. Clara’s death was already trending. “CEO’s secretary dies in suspicious accident.” That headline had been circulating since the day it happened.My jaw clenched.The priest kept talking, and I tried to focus, but my mind kept drifting—to the last time I saw her. She’d brought me coffee, smiling like she always did, telling me I looked like I hadn’t slept in a week. She wasn’t wrong.Now she was gone.“Ty.”I turned. Cel

CHAPTER 133TYLER I called Mason.He picked up on the second ring. “Baby?”My throat went dry. “Did you see it?”“Yeah.” He exhaled heavily, a sound that made my chest ache. “Tyler, don’t panic. It’s just noise. It’ll die down.”“Noise?” My voice was sharper than I meant. There was a pause. I could hear faint movement—his pacing, probably, that low exhale he always did when he was trying not to lose it.“I know,” he said finally, voice lower. “But you panicking won’t bring her back. We’ll handle it. I’ll handle it.”“Handle it?” I laughed bitterly. “They’re saying she died because of me. Because of us.”“Tyler.” His tone softened. “Look at me—”“I can’t look at you, Mason. You’re not here.”That silence again. Then his voice came, soft and sure. “You trust me, right?”I closed my eyes. “You know I do.”“Then breathe,” he said. “Don’t look at the comments. Don’t read anything. We’ll get through this.”“How?”“I don’t know yet,” he admitted. “But we always do.”For a moment, I wante

CHAPTER 135MASONTwo hours later, my phone vibrated across the counter.Damien.I sighed, dragging a hand through my hair before picking up.“Yo,” I said, voice rough from not speaking in a while.“Finally. Been trying to reach you,” he said. His tone was casual, but I could hear the undertone—concern. “You okay? How’s Tyler?”“He’s fine,” I muttered, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Just… processing everything. I’ll check on him soon.”There was a pause. “Good. You sound like shit, by the way.”I gave a dry laugh. “Thanks. That helps.”“Anytime,” he said. Then, after a beat, “So, who was that guy at the bar the other night?”I frowned. “What guy?”“That pretty one you were talking to before I left. Weirdly calm for a Friday night.”My grip on the phone tightened. “Why?”“Because—” Damien hesitated, then exhaled. “Because I saw him near your car after you left. Thought he was maybe waiting for someone, but now that you mention Clara and the whole photo thing… it feels off.”

CHAPTER 137TYLERThe police came again this morning.I should’ve expected it. I just didn’t think it would be this soon.They were standing at the door when I opened it, two of them, both wearing the same stiff expressions that made my stomach twist. Detective Cruz was the one who spoke first, his tone clipped but polite.“Mr. Reyes, we have some updates on the investigation.”I stepped aside. “Come in.”My voice barely came out. Mason wasn’t here; he’d gone for an early run. The apartment felt colder without him.Detective Cruz and his partner, Ramos, sat on the couch. I took the opposite chair, clasping my hands together so I wouldn’t fidget. The air felt heavy, too quiet except for the faint ticking of the wall clock.Cruz cleared his throat. “We wanted to inform you that Ms. Clara’s death has been confirmed as targeted.”I blinked, once. Twice. “Targeted? As in—not random?”He nodded slowly. “There were traces of camera bugs in the garage. We also found signs that the CCTV system

TYLERI’m still catching my breath when Mason pulls me up from the floor, his hands warm on my hips, that stupid, smug grin on his face like he just won the Stanley Cup. My legs are jelly. My ass is sore. My neck is covered in hickeys that look like I got attacked by a vampire with a vendetta. And yet—and yet—I can’t stop smiling like an idiot.“Jesus, Ty,” he says, voice low and rough, tugging his shirt over his head. “You look like you just got railed by a freight train.”I snort, grabbing my briefs from the floor and hopping into them like I’m not internally screaming. “You *are* the freight train, you caveman. And you *tied me up*. With your *belt*. In my *office*.”He winks, buckling his belt with that slow, deliberate click that makes my stomach flip. “You loved it.”I open my mouth to argue—because hello, dignity—but my brain short-circuits. Because yeah. I did. I *really* did. And now I’m standing here in my own office, half-naked, with my CEO tie blindfold still on the desk l