All Chapters of Bride For The Blind Don: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Amber.My heart was in waves of pain, like it had carved itself into every corner of this room and refused to heal. It wouldn’t piece itself back together. Not unless Zeden allowed it. Not until he gave the word. And deep down I knew—he wasn’t ready. Not yet.I knew he’d try to break every part of me. Apologize not with words, but with the wreckage he’d leave on my body. To him.My legs were still spread wide, thighs trembling from the strain. I watched him drag the tip of his gun in a slow, straight line from the muzzle to the grip, the metal catching the dim light as it moved. The motion was deliberate, almost reverent—like he was deciding exactly where to press it next.I wanted to count to ten. Close my eyes. Keep them shut until the only sound left was the deafening crack of the gun—maybe against my temple, maybe straight into my chest, right where he’d already carved that small, stinging hole with the knife he’d dropped earlier. The cut still burned, a thin red line bet

Amber. His tongue was still buried deep, shamelessly fucking into my cunt with slow, deliberate strokes that made my hips jerk every time he curled the tip against that swollen, oversensitive spot inside. His groans vibrated through me, low and feral, mixing with my own broken moans until the room sounded like a filthy symphony of need and surrender.“Turn around,” he commanded, voice thick and dark.I obeyed instantly—too wrecked to hesitate. I shifted, knees sliding across the sheets, until I straddled his chest facing the opposite direction. My ass hovered over his face, thighs bracketing his head, while my gaze landed on the thick, straining bulge in his trousers. It looked obscene—huge, curved, pulsing against the fabric like it was trying to tear free.My mouth watered.My hands moved before my brain could catch up—trembling fingers fumbling with his belt buckle, the zipper rasping down in the quiet. I reached inside and pulled him out.His cock sprang free—thick, veined,

Amber.The last name broke on a sob. Fresh tears burned my eyes again. Mom pulled me back into her arms without a word, one hand stroking my back in slow, steady circles while the other cradled the back of my head like I was still small enough to fit against her chest without effort.“I know,” she whispered against my hair. “We both know your father isn’t going to change. And your sister… she’s just been shaped by him, Amber. She’s still a child in so many ways. One day she’ll come to her senses. Okay? She will.”She eased back just enough to look at me, thumbs brushing the wet tracks on my cheeks.“And stop saying there aren’t good people left in this world. Look at me.” Her smile was tired but real. “I’m here. I’m well. I’m happy—happier than I thought I’d ever be again. I never believed I’d wake up and get to see your face. These past few days, sweetheart… it’s been the best of my life. No more waking up afraid someone’s going to put a gun to my head in the middle of the night.

Zeden.I knew exactly what I was doing. Every single second of it. I’d locked away whatever tiny part of me might have felt regret, guilt, anything human. I told myself it was right. Necessary. She’d pushed too far this time. She’d spoken to Enzo Rossi—of all fucking people. That bastard had been hunting for any crack in my armor since Marissa’s death. His sister. My fucking dead wife.He’d already tried to blind me once. Now he was sniffing around what was mine. Amber. Under my roof. Under my hands. And she’d stood there talking to him like it was nothing.Fuck that.I watched her curl against the kitchen counter, sobbing, body shaking so hard. It should have satisfied me. Seeing her like this—broken, small, mine to ruin—should have felt good. Instead it clawed at something deeper. Something I refused to name.She’d crossed every line tonight. Talking to a man. Letting him offer her a ride. Letting him think—even for one second—that she could belong to anyone else.I wan

Amber.Despite the hot tears streaming down my eyes and the strands of hair clinging to my face like sticky webs, despite the searing pain radiating from every inch of my skin—my burned palm throbbing like fire, the shallow cut on my chest stinging with every breath—my body betrayed me completely. The traitorous part of me craved this. God, no. I couldn’t be this deep in his twisted game, this insane reality where Zeden dismantled me piece by piece, where pleasure twisted into agony and back again. But I was. I was lost in it.Then his fingers were there—gentle for one heartbeat— suddenly he swept away every damp lock blocking my view, his fingers rough but deliberate as he tilted my head back. My throat arched open, vulnerable and exposed to this devil who’d already claimed so much. He traced the column of my neck with his thumb—from the soft spot under my jaw all the way down to where it dipped into my collarbone. The touch sent shivers racing through me. The touch was sl