All Chapters of Daddies Taste Better : Chapter 331 - Chapter 340

“What? No,” I said quickly, finally stepping away from the window and turning my back to it, as if putting physical distance between myself and the view of Noah would somehow make the lie easier. “There’s nobody else, Mom. I don’t know why you’d even ask that.” “Because I’m curious.” “Well, there is no one.” I paced the length of my room, one hand gripping the phone while the other tugged at the hem of my cloth. Mom was quiet for a second, and when she spoke again, her tone was gentle but probing. “You’re being defensive,” she stated lightly. “I am not,” I insisted, a little too quickly and winced at how defensive that sounded even to my own ears. I started pacing again, the phone pressed tight to my ear. “I’m just… tired, okay? It’s been a long week and I don’t know why everyone keeps assuming there’s some big secret I’m hiding.” “I never assumed that.” “Well… you were insinuating.” “No, I wasn’t.” “Mom.” There was another pause, and I could almost picture the knowing smi

By the time my shift ended, my feet were killing me and my head was a mess of questions I couldn’t answer. I pushed through the swinging door into the back workers’ room, the one that always smelled like old coffee grounds and whatever cheap perfume the night shift girls sprayed to cover up the grease. Exhaling heavily, I kicked off my sneakers and started changing out of the stained uniform, peeling the apron over my head and tossing it into my locker.The door clicked shut behind me.I turned to grab my bag and nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw her standing there—my coworker, Lena, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and that nosy look on her face.“Jesus… fuck!” I snapped, hand flying to my chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”Lena winced, holding up both hands like she was surrendering. “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. But… didn’t you notice anything?”I froze, halfway through pulling my hoodie on, my heart still racing from the scare. “Notice

I wasn’t sure how the hell he planned on driving after being pepper-sprayed, but he started the car regardless. The engine rumbled to life under me, and a second later we were pulling out of the diner parking lot, the familiar neon sign shrinking in the rear window until it disappeared completely.He was actually fucking driving.Still, it wasn’t the most pleasant ride because my wrists burned where the zip ties cut into my skin every time I shifted and the duct tape over my mouth made every breath feel too loud in my own head. I twisted onto my side as much as the restraints would allow, trying to see out the window, but the tint made everything outside look dark and blurry. Streetlights streaked past like ghosts and I had no idea where we were going.Then the SUV took a sharp turn and I slid across the seat, shoulder slamming into the door again. Fuck!Up front, the bodyguard kept driving, one hand gripping the wheel tight while the other occasionally swiped at his still-red eye

SARAPHINA °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･The next day, I woke up to sunlight spilling through the curtains.With an exhausted sigh, I forced myself out of bed, stripped out of yesterday’s clothes, and headed straight for the bathroom. By the time I stepped out, wrapped in a towel, I felt a little more like myself — or at least like someone who could pretend to be okay for a few hours.I got dressed in simple blue jeans and a crop oversized sweater, something comfortable but put-together enough for class. I tied my hair up in a loose bun, applied a bit of lip gloss and mascara, and packed my bag with my laptop and notes. As I slung my bag over my shoulder and headed downstairs, I caught myself glancing toward Noah’s room. The door was closed and there was no sound from inside. I didn’t know if he was still here or if he’d left again, and I told myself I didn’t care. Distance. That’s what I needed. I made myself a quick cup of coffee in the kitchen and grabbed a banana on my way out but when I stepped

I was taken completely by surprise. My mouth opened, then closed again. The words just wouldn’t come. My brain had gone completely blank under the weight of that direct question and the way he was looking at me. Noah let out a soft scoff. “You must have terrible taste in men, then.” “I don’t,” I defended quickly, trying to regain some ground. “You shouldn’t get cocky. You’re not my type either.” He raised an eyebrow, that tired smirk returning. “Is that so?” “Yes,” I said, maybe a little too firmly. He tilted his head slightly, watching me. “Then what is your type?” I opened my mouth, then hesitated. Because the honest answer was simple — handsome men. Confident ones. The kind with nice jawlines, intense eyes, and looks at you like they could ruin your life and you’d thank them for it. The kind who looked exactly like the man currently sitting half-dressed in front of me with a fever and a bandage on his wrist. But I couldn’t say that out loud. It would sound shallow. Superfi