Todos os capítulos de WORSHIPPED BY MY DAD'S BESTFRIEND : Capítulo 51 - Capítulo 60

SAESHA POV The crinkle of the chip bag was the only sound I cared about. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Heaven. Salty, greasy heaven. Meanwhile, Alex sat at the dining table across from me, his laptop open, papers spread everywhere. His hair was a mess from running his hands through it, his jaw tight, his pen tapping the wood in quick, irritated beats. “Beach wedding?” he muttered, scanning something on the screen. “Or garden? Maybe private villa. Clara can arrange the officiant. And flights. And—” “Chips,” I said through a mouthful, licking the flavor off my fingers. He looked up, glaring. “Saesha.” “What?” I tilted my head, widening my eyes innocently. “I’m listening.” “You’re eating like you haven’t seen food in a week.” “Pregnant,” I shot back, holding the bag up like evidence. “Big difference.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We’re trying to plan our wedding.” “And I’m trying to not kill you in my eighth month,” I muttered, popping another chip into my mouth. Before he

SAESHA POV The sound of clattering pans woke me up. I blinked blearily, rubbing my eyes. Morning sunlight poured through the curtains, painting the room gold. My bump shifted as bean rolled lazily inside me, hiccups fluttering faintly. I yawned, sliding off the bed slowly, waddling down the hall. The smell hit me first—garlic, butter, eggs, something sizzling. And then I saw him. Alex stood at the stove, hair mussed from sleep, wearing only sweatpants that hung low on his hips. A dishtowel slung over his shoulder, spatula in hand, he flipped something expertly in the pan. The muscles of his back flexed as he moved, and my mouth went dry. For a second, I just leaned against the doorway, watching him. The domesticity of it—him cooking for us, humming under his breath, focused—made my chest ache in ways I couldn’t explain. “Are you spying on me again?” he asked without turning, voice rough with amusement. I grinned, padding into the kitchen. “Maybe.” He glanced over his shoulde

SAESHA POV The walls rattled with the echo of the last gunshot. I sat curled on the couch, Clara’s arm firm around my shoulders, my hands shaking over my bump. Bean shifted violently inside me, rolling as if they felt the chaos outside. “Breathe,” Clara whispered, rubbing my back. “In. Out. You’re safe.” But my ears strained for something else. For footsteps. For a voice. For him. And then— The door slammed open so hard it shook the frame. “Saesha!” Alex’s voice. Rough. Desperate. I gasped, scrambling to my feet. He stood in the doorway, chest heaving, shirt ripped and smeared with blood, knuckles raw. His eyes locked on me instantly, wild and blazing. “Alex!” I cried, rushing toward him as much as my bump allowed. He caught me against him, crushing me into his chest, his hands clutching my back like he’d never let go again. His body trembled, his breath harsh against my hair. “Fuck, penguin, I thought—” His voice broke, and he buried his face in my neck. “I thought I’d l

SAESHA POV The road stretched endless and dark ahead of us, headlights slicing through the night. My hands were locked over my bump, knuckles white, bean rolling restlessly under my palms as if they sensed every ounce of chaos. Alex drove like a man possessed, jaw clenched, veins standing out in his forearms as blood dried on his skin. Clara sat in the backseat, eyes darting between us and the windows, like she was measuring how long before more danger found us. Then Alex reached for his phone. My stomach twisted. “Who are you calling?” I whispered, voice hoarse from crying. “Help,” he muttered, thumbing the screen. “We can’t do this alone forever.” Clara leaned forward sharply. “Alex—” But then he froze. The screen lit up, glitching faintly, like static crawling across it. Notifications poured in faster than I could blink. His location pinged. A red dot blinked on a map. Tracked. Alex’s breath went still. His face went stone cold. “What?” I whispered, my heart hammering.

SAESHA POV Darkness swallowed me whole. I floated in it, weightless, pain tearing through my belly in waves, but no air, no sound, no end. Then—voices. Rough. Mocking. Boots striking the floor. And another voice. One I knew. One I dreaded. “Principessa.” My eyes snapped open. Cold. That was the first thing I felt. The floor beneath me was freezing, damp, pressing into my skin. My wrists burned—chains bit into them, metal clinking when I shifted weakly. My bump tightened again, another contraction seizing me, ripping a broken cry from my throat. “Saesha.” Alex’s voice. Desperate. Raw. I turned my head sluggishly. He was beside me, chained too, his face swollen and bloodied, his arm bent at an odd angle. His chest rose ragged, but his eyes—his eyes burned, locked on me. “Baby,” he rasped, his chains clanging as he tried to reach me. “I’m here. I’m right here. Hold on.” Clara’s weak groan came from the corner. She was slumped, tied, her forehead crusted with dried blood, her