All Chapters of Fucked Raw by my Husband's Ruthless Best friend.: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Julian’s POVI sat behind my desk, the lamp on the desk throwing a weak yellow glow across the room. Shadows stretched long and dark over everything—the scattered papers, the half-empty whiskey bottle, the leather chair that creaked every time I moved. The air smelled like stale cigar smoke, and the sharp bite of whiskey that had soaked into my shirt from last night. My head was still pounding. A dull, steady throb right behind my eyes. My knuckles burned where the skin had split open. My lip was still cut, and every time I ran my tongue over it, I tasted blood.The recording kept playing in my head on loop. Hale’s voice. Leon’s voice. Every word sharp enough to slice me open into two.I leaned back in the chair. It groaned under my weight. I swung it slowly from side to side, the leather sticking to my back from the sweat. My fingers tapped the desk—hard, restless. I was trying so damn hard to make the pieces fit. But the more I thought about it, the more the puzzle fell apart. Ques

Ava’s POVI couldn’t sleep. Not even close.The clock on the nightstand glowed 2:17 a.m. in dull red numbers that stared at me like they were judging every second that I stayed awake by now. The sheets were twisted around my legs. The room smelled faintly of my lavender lotion and the sharp, lingering trace of Leon’s cologne from this morning. It used to comfort me once. Now it just made my stomach turn.I pushed the blankets off. I walked to the full-length mirror in the corner. The short nightdress—thin white silk—clung to my skin. Cool at first touch, then quickly warming from my body heat. I looked at my reflection. Really looked.My eyes were tired—dark circles underneath like bruises. My hair messy from running my fingers through it too many times. I looked small. My lips bruised a bit from biting too many times to keep tears in. Like someone who used to know how to stand tall but forgot the steps somewhere along the way.Leon still wasn’t home.He’d been doing this of recent

Leon’s POVI left Ava at the table without a word. I couldn’t sit there another second. The V on the screen kept burning behind my eyes—huge, black, mocking me. My pulse hammered in my ears, louder than the music still vibrating through the walls. My hands shook—cold sweat slick on my palms. I felt my chest tight like a fist squeezing my ribs. Sweat prickled down my spine under the suit, soaking the shirt against my back. Every breath felt short, hot, ragged.I needed air. Needed answers. I needed Hale to explain what the hell just happened before I lost it completely in front of everyone and shattered the perfect mask I’d worn all night.I slipped through a side door in the narrow hallway. Dim lights flickering above—buzzing faintly like a dying insect. Restricted area. The room was well cornered. Gala noise faded behind me—muffled laughter, clinking glasses, and the violins all dying away until only my own footsteps echoed sharp on the marble. I closed the door shut with a hea

Ava’s POVWe got home in silence. Leon didn’t speak. Not one word. He dragged me out of the gala like I was property, his grip bruising my wrist the whole ride back—hot, throbbing pain that matched the knot in my stomach, the way my skin burned under his fingers. Now the front door shut behind us—so hard, final thud that echoed through the house, rattled the glass in the windows.I walked straight to the bedroom. Didn’t look at him. I didn’t wait for him. I sat in front of the mirror. Pulled off my earrings first. Necklace next. The heavy diamonds clinked—sharp, mocking sound. Each piece felt like shedding armor I didn’t want anymore, but the weight in my chest stayed—crushing, making every breath feel shallow.He came in behind me. I watched him in the mirror. His suit jacket hit the chair with a soft thump. Shirt buttons popped open one by one—slow, deliberate. His chest bare now. Bruises still dark on his ribs, his jaw—purple shadows under his skin, reminders of fights that I wa

Victor’s POVI sat in Club Orion. My usual spot. VIP room way in the back. The dim lights flickered low—buzzing faint like dying flies. Bass from the main floor thumped through the walls—steady, vibrating in my chest like a second heartbeat that just wouldn’t quit. Smoke hung thick in the air—sweet cigar mixed with the sharp scent of spilled whiskey soaked into the carpet. Leather couch stuck to my back under the hoodie—damp sweat making it cling and my neck so hot. My fingers tingled from the drugs already kicking in—warm buzz crawling under my skin, making everything feel slow and sharp at the same time.I'm back home. I didn’t care what might happen. Didn’t give a fuck about the Syndicate. I came to do my thing. Sell drugs. But in full secrecy now. Kept it quiet. No noise. No traces. Just in shadows only.I never even expected a client so soon.He sat across from me. The dealer. His eyes darting around the room. His hands steady on the table. But I can feel his unease.. He was so