All Chapters of WORSHIPPED BY MY DAD'S BESTFRIEND : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

SAESHA POV The pain swallowed me whole. I screamed until my throat tore raw, until the world blurred into blackness. My body gave way, shaking, blood pooling hot beneath me. Alex’s voice was the last thing I heard—broken, begging— “Baby, please, don’t you fucking leave me—” Then nothing. --- Crying. That’s what pulled me back. A high-pitched, raw cry, sharp as glass, slicing through the haze. My chest rose shallow, weak, as I blinked slowly back into the dim light of the room. The chains were still on me, the cold floor still beneath me. My body ached, heavy, my thighs slick with blood and sweat. But the sound— The sound was life. My baby. I jerked weakly, my arms pulling against the restraints. “Where—?” My voice cracked, barely a whisper. “Where’s my baby?” And then I saw him. Not Alex. Not Clara. Veeraj. He stood in the center of the room, immaculate suit still sharp, though his cuff was now smeared with blood. In his arms, wrapped in a blanket far too hastily, was

SAESHA POV The door slammed behind Veeraj, my baby’s cries echoing until they disappeared down the hall. Then silence. The silence of chains rattling weakly. The silence of Alex’s ragged breathing, his voice breaking as he whispered over and over: “I’ll get him back. I swear. I’ll get him back.” But it didn’t last. The door opened again. Three of Veeraj’s men strode in, faces cold, eyes gleaming with cruelty. Leather gloves creaked as they flexed their fists, and I knew instantly—this wasn’t rescue. This was punishment. “No,” Alex snarled, his chains clanking as he tried to rise. His swollen face twisted with rage. “You touch them, and I swear I’ll rip your hearts out—” A boot slammed into his ribs before he could finish. “Alex!” I screamed, thrashing weakly against my chains, blood and milk soaking me. He coughed, spitting red, but his eyes burned like wildfire. “That all you got?” he rasped, baring his teeth. Another man crouched beside me, his eyes raking over my torn s

SAESHA POV The firelight flickered, throwing shadows across the walls. My son whimpered softly in the crib. Alex sat bound and bleeding, his chest heaving, his eyes locked on me with feral desperation. And Veeraj — Veeraj stepped closer, his smirk carved sharp, his presence suffocating the air. “My Principessa,” he murmured, his gaze raking over me, over my torn shirt soaked with milk, over my trembling thighs sticky with blood. “You should have been mine long before this.” “Don’t,” I whispered, shaking my head violently, clutching the sheets to my chest. “Don’t touch me.” Alex’s roar cut through the room, chains rattling like thunder. “Don’t you fucking touch her!” But Veeraj ignored him. His hand caught my wrist, yanking me forward until I fell against his chest. His cologne smothered me, his breath hot against my ear. “You bleed in my bed. You nurse in my bed. You will be taken in my bed.” His voice was silk laced with poison. I thrashed weakly, sobbing, but his grip tight

SAESHA POV The clinic was beautiful. Glass doors gleamed, banners hung with Clara’s name in bold, and bouquets of lilies and roses lined the entrance. She stood at the steps, radiant in a crisp white suit, her hair loose around her shoulders, her face glowing with pride. And in her arms—our son. She cradled him against her chest, his tiny fists waving, his little brow furrowed like the world already owed him something. “God, he looks just like his father,” Clara teased, kissing his soft cheek. “Grumpy already. He’s not even four months yet and he has Alex’s scowl.” Alex smirked beside me, his hand at my waist, his eyes locked on the baby like he’d never get enough. “Smart kid. He already knows strangers aren’t to be trusted.” As if on cue, one of Clara’s colleagues leaned over, cooing. “Oh, he’s precious, Clara! Can I hold him?” Clara smiled politely and passed the baby over. The instant another pair of hands cradled him, our son’s little face scrunched. His lips trembled. A

Chapter 70 – Morning Mess & Bath TimeSAESHA POVThe morning sun spilled through the curtains, warm and soft, but I barely noticed. My whole body ached with exhaustion, my breasts heavy and sore, my thighs trembling from everything Alex had done to me last night before our son’s loud interruption.Beside me, the crib rattled softly.Waaah.I groaned, burying my face in the pillow. “Not again…”Alex’s voice rumbled, husky and deep, from the other side of the bed. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ve got him.”I peeked out with one eye. Alex’s hair was a mess, his chest bare, pajama pants hanging low on his hips. He scooped our son out of the crib like he weighed nothing, rocking him against his chest with ease.“There we go, little man,” he murmured, kissing the baby’s soft head. “You hungry again, or just want attention like your mama?”I threw a pillow at him. “Shut up.”He laughed, dodging it easily, then sat on the edge of the bed, holding our son toward me. “Looks like he wants breakfast.”I