All Chapters of Forbidden By Her Sister's Husband : Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

“You’re bleeding,” he said.Aria looked down at her thumb. The blood had smeared against the white envelope. “It’s just a paper cut.”“You’re distracted.” Damian walked toward her, his presence invading the room until the air felt thin. He stopped inches from her, his heat radiating through her clothes. “You spent the entire morning waiting for a phone call that never came.”“I didn’t,” she lied, her voice trembling.“Lying to me is a waste of your energy, Little One.”The words landed like a physical blow. Aria’s breath caught, her mind stuttering over the phrase. *Little One.* He had never called her that before—had never called her anything but her name, sometimes not even that. The shift was so sudden, so deliberate, that her thoughts scattered trying to make sense of it. It wasn’t casual. It wasn’t kind. It felt like a door closing, like something being claimed and locked away. Her pulse hammered in her throat as she tried to understand what it meant that he would choose this mome

“So fucking soft,” he growled, the words rumbling from his chest like thunder felt in her bones, nipping at the swell of her flesh hard enough to leave teeth marks that bloomed sharp and stinging, the pain lancing straight to her clit like a live wire. She arched into it, a desperate whine tearing from her throat—high and raw, echoing back at her—her hips bucking up against his thigh for friction that wasn’t there yet, the denim of his pants scraping her through her skirt like sandpaper on silk, igniting a burn that made her thighs quiver.He released her hands only to yank the blouse free for good, the cool air rushing over her like a slap, but his fingers hooked into the waistband of her skirt next—tugging it down her hips with a rough pull that made the zipper rasp harshly, the fabric scraping against her hips and thighs like a deliberate torment, bunching at her ankles before he kicked it away. She lifted instinctively, heart slamming against her ribs like a trapped bird, letting h

The air in the archives felt heavier than usual on the morning of August 22nd. Aria sat at her desk, her neck stiff and her body aching with a exhaustion that sleep couldn’t touch. Every time she moved, the high collar of her blouse rubbed against the fresh bruise Damian had left the night before—a hidden, throbbing reminder of her twenty-fourth birthday. She felt like a vessel that had been filled to the brim with a dark, suffocating liquid, and any sudden movement would cause her to spill over.The memory of his mouth, his weight, and the way he had claimed her in the dark played on a loop in her mind. He had called her "Little One." He had told her she belonged to him. But as the sun rose over the Obsidian, the warmth of those words had evaporated, leaving behind only the cold reality of her situation. She was a secret. She was an asset. She was a body he used to drown out the silence of his own life.The internal phone rang at 10:30 AM."Aria Hale," she said, her voice sounding lik

The Monday morning air in the sub-basement felt heavier than usual, the scent of dust and old paper clinging to the back of Aria’s throat. She sat at her desk, staring at a stack of invoices that had been sitting there for an hour, but the numbers wouldn't settle into focus. Her mind kept drifting back to the Saturday night party—the way the club had smelled of expensive gin and sea salt, the way Alex had laughed when she stumbled over a word, and the way he had looked at her as if she were a person instead of an object to be managed.It had been four hours of normalcy, and it had ruined her.The internal phone buzzed, vibrating against the metal surface of the desk. Aria jumped, her hand flying to her chest. She took a breath before answering."Aria Hale," she said."Sarah," the voice on the other end clipped. "Mr. Cross is in his office. He wants the final quarterly logs for the textile plants. Bring the physical ledger. Now.""I'll be there in five minutes," Aria replied.She gather

"Get out," he said. "The Vane logs need to be indexed by three."Aria fled. She didn't look back. She ran to the elevator, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a sob. She felt a toxic mix of desire and resentment burning in her chest—a fire that Damian had started and was now using to consume her.The sub-basement felt like a cage when she returned. Aria sat at her desk, the silence of the archives pressing in on her like a physical weight. She worked through the afternoon, her movements mechanical, but the image of Damian pinning her against the window remained etched in her mind. He was right; she was owned. But for the first time, the weight of the collar felt unbearable.At 2:45 PM, a courier arrived with a small package. It was addressed to Aria Hale, marked as 'Personal'.Aria opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a small, leather-bound book—a first edition of the poetry collection she had mentioned to Alex on Saturday night. Tucked inside the cover was a card.I remembe