บททั้งหมดของ Falling For Forbidden: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

Amara didn't remember how she got to the bathroom. One moment, Rafael's furious voice was chasing her out of his office, the heat of his kiss still burning her lips, and the next, she was gripping the edge of the sink, trying to steady her breathing.Her heart pounded like a drum against her ribs, her skin alive with sensation, humming with an energy she didn't know how to contain. Her lips were swollen, her breath shaky, and her legs—God, her legs still trembled from the way he had touched her, from the way he had kissed her like he wanted to consume her, like he wanted to own every piece of her until there was nothing left.And she had let him.A strangled sound left her throat. What had she done?She turned on the faucet, splashing cold water onto her face, as if it would somehow wash away the memory of him, the heat, the hunger. But it didn't. The moment she closed her eyes, it was there again—his hands gripping her waist, his fingers threading through her hair, his body pressed a

The scent of aged wood and dust swirled in the air as Amara sat motionless in the old theatre hall, her fingers gripping the edges of the worn script in her lap. The room was alive with voices—laughter, rehearsed dialogues, the rustle of paper—but she barely heard any of it. Her mind was elsewhere, tangled in a maze of worries she couldn’t escape.She was supposed to be focusing on her performance, on finishing her act, but how could she when the weight of her tuition fees loomed over her like a storm cloud? Three days. That was all she had. Three days to find the money or watch everything she had worked for slip through her fingers.Her eyes flicked across the room, watching the others immerse themselves in their parts, their voices rising and falling with dramatic flair. They all had something she lacked—a sense of security, a safety net. Friends who would rally around them if they fell, family who would reach out a hand to pull them up.But Amara?She had no one.The thought coiled

Amara strode through the university halls, her head high despite the whispers crawling after her like relentless vines. She could feel them—those judgmental stares, the murmurs dripping with accusation and scorn. Each step felt heavier, but she refused to falter. She refused to let them see her break.The moment she turned the corner, she came face-to-face with a group of students blocking her path. Five of them. Their gazes held nothing but cruel amusement, their smiles sharp like daggers waiting to cut.“Well, if it isn’t the professor’s little favourite.” The voice belonged to Lillian, a tall blonde with an air of superiority, her arms crossed as she regarded Amara with mocking curiosity.Amara’s jaw tightened. “Move.”“Move?” Lillian echoed, feigning offense. “But we just wanted to understand. How exactly does one get… special attention from a professor?”A ripple of laughter followed. Another girl, dark-haired and equally venomous, leaned in closer. “Must be quite the talent,” sh

The morning sun streamed through the tattered curtains of the small apartment, casting a golden hue over the wooden floor. Amara sat hunched on the edge of her bed, staring at the pile of rejection letters scattered across the table. Her fingers gripped the crumpled paper of the most recent one, the ink smudged from the pressure of her hands.Her chest felt hollow. She had spent the entire night going from one place to another, searching for someone—anyone—willing to lend her the money she desperately needed to pay her university fees. She had knocked on the doors of former employers, begged at places where she had once worked odd jobs. But no one had helped.Her savings had already dried up, and without paying the fee, she couldn’t sit for the upcoming exams. She wouldn’t be allowed in the university anymore. That thought sent a deep wave of nausea rolling through her stomach.She swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay. She couldn’t cry now. There was no point. She

The morning greeted Amara with the same emptiness that had consumed her the night before. The weight of the accusations, the betrayal, the utter helplessness pressed against her chest like an unbearable force. Her eyes were swollen, lips dry from the endless crying, but her mind had stopped processing pain—it had become numb, mechanical, focused only on one thing: survival.She hadn’t eaten, hadn’t slept, and yet, she forced herself out of bed. The city outside was just waking up, indifferent to her suffering. The sky was an unrelenting gray, heavy with an impending storm.Amara walked through the streets, her feet dragging, body trembling from exhaustion, but she had no choice. She visited every place she had ever worked, knocking on doors, pleading for her wages—anything to hold her over for even a few days. But one by one, they refused her. Some with pity in their eyes, others with disdain. The rumors had already spread, her name tainted before she even had a chance to defend herse