All Chapters of HER REVENGE: THEIR OBSESSION : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Avery's POVI stood up from the couch, and all three men tensed, probably thinking I was about to walk out. But instead, I moved toward Drake.His eyes widened as I stopped in front of him. "Clara?""I hate her," I said quietly. "I hate Bianca for what she did to you. To us.""I hate her too," Drake breathed."And I hate that I can't..." I trailed off, frustration building in my chest. "I can't publicly tell everyone that you're mine. That all of you are mine. If I could, if people knew, Bianca would never have dared to try something like this."The secret of our relationship—the fact that I was with all three of them—had always been a source of tension. In public, I was Ryan's girlfriend. Drake and Chris were just my "roommates," my "friends." And it killed me sometimes, not being able to claim them openly."She knew she could get away with it because no one knows," I continued, my voice getting stronger. "No one knows that you're not just some single guy living in the same house as

**Chris's POV**Forty minutes later, Bianca walked into my restaurant looking nervous but trying to hide it behind a confident smile. She'd dressed up for this—tight dress, high heels, a face full makeup. Like she thought this was some kind of date.I gestured to the private office in the back. "In here."Her smile faltered slightly. "Chris, what's going on? You sounded really serious on the phone."I didn't answer until we were both inside the office with the door closed. Then I turned to face her, arms crossed."I just got off the phone with Marcus," I said flatly.The color drained from her face. "Oh?""Yeah. We were going over details for the competition. And something interesting came up." I took a step toward her. "He mentioned that he's been sending David to deliver files to me. Not you."Bianca's eyes widened. "I—that's not—""Don't," I cut her off sharply. "Don't even try to lie to me right now. Marcus pulled the records. Every single delivery from his office is documented. A

Avery's POVI stared at Chelsea, completely confused by her sudden coldness. "Chelsea, what's going on? Why are you being like this?""Being like what?""Distant. Cold. Making excuses." I stood up too, facing her. "This isn't like you. Ever since that night—ever since we reported Dominic—you've been avoiding me. What happened?""Nothing happened." But she wouldn't meet my eyes."Chelsea, please. Talk to me. If something's wrong, I want to help—""You can't help!" The words burst out of her, loud and angry. Then she seemed to catch herself, taking a breath. "Just... you can't help, okay?""Why not? We're friends. Friends help each other.""Are we?" Chelsea laughed bitterly. "Are we really friends, Clara? Or am I just useful to you when you need something?"The accusation stung. "That's not fair. I care about you—""Do you? Because it seems like the only time you reach out to me is when you need help with your revenge plot against Dominic." She finally looked at me, and there was someth

Avery's POV“There's something you need to know about Ryan. Your boyfriend is not who you think he is,” one of Dominic's text read.After Drake had left, I stared at Dominic's message for a long moment before shoving my phone back in my pocket. I couldn't deal with this right now. Whatever game he was playing, whatever he wanted to tell me about Ryan, it could wait.I took a deep breath and headed downstairs to find Ryan. He was still in the living room, now on his laptop, probably handling more business for me."Ryan?"He looked up and smiled. "Hey. Feeling better?""A bit." I sat down beside him. "I wanted to talk more about the gig. When exactly do rehearsals start?""Tomorrow morning at nine. They want everyone there early for measurements and preliminary fittings." He pulled up a document on his laptop. "You'll have about three hours of practice walks, then a break, then another two hours in the afternoon.""Okay. I can do that." I nodded, trying to psych myself up. "I'll head ov

Avery's PovI carried the soup carefully up the stairs and knocked on Chris's door."Come in," his distracted voice called out.I pushed the door open with my hip. Chris was standing in front of his laptop, which was open on his desk displaying what looked like recipe calculations and competition schedules. His hair was messy, like he'd been running his hands through it, and he looked exhausted."Hey," I said softly. "I brought you something."He turned and his expression softened when he saw me. "Clara. You didn't have to—""I know. But I wanted to." I held up the bowl. "Tomato soup. Your favorite."A genuine smile crossed his face. "You made my soup?""I did. Now stop pacing and eat before it gets cold."Chris finally stopped moving and came over to me. Instead of taking the bowl, he sat down on his desk chair and pulled me onto his lap."Chris—""Feed me," he said, wrapping one arm around my waist.I laughed. "You have hands.""Yeah, but this is better." He rested his head against