All Chapters of FUCKED BY THE FAKE PRIEST : Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

⸻ Father Damien climbed the stairs back into the mansion, his footsteps echoing softly against the marble. “What took you so long?” Mr. Arnold asked. He stood far too close, as though he had been waiting to intercept him on the way from the confession room. “I told you,” Mr Arnold continued , “I had confessions to make. It seems you wanted to spend eternity in there.” Arnold’s lips twitched. Father Damien stared at him for a brief, awkward moment, then forced a polite smile. “Sorry, Mr. Arnold. I offered prayers for her—some cleansing as well.” “Oh, that’s good,” Arnold said, sounding pleased. He gestured lightly with his hand. “So… shall we?” He was clearly suggesting it was his turn for confession. Father Damien hesitated. “Oh, Mr. Arnold, I’m very sorry. I won’t be able to do that today. I received a call from the chapel. I’m needed for evening prayers.” “Oh, really?” Arnold raised a brow, suspicion flickering across his face. Father Damien nodded. “Yes.” Ar

⸻ IN THE MORNING Anna walked up to her uncle. “I had a dream—a scary one—and I’m not okay with it,” she said calmly, though she already had plans. “Can you summon Father Damien for some prayers?” Arnold turned to look at her coldly, suspicion filling his eyes. “How bad is the dream?” he asked. “So bad that I’m scared it might come to pass without prayers.” Arnold sighed. Though he didn’t believe a word she was saying, he agreed. “I’ll call him now.” “Okay… thanks,” Anna said, then walked away. Arnold picked up his phone. Ring. Ring. Carden was woken by the sound of the phone. He blinked, still half-asleep. “Who could that be?” he murmured. He glanced at the screen and froze. Mr. Arnold. “Why is he calling me?” he thought. Oh… right. The confession. “Hello, Mr. Arnold.” “Greetings, Father Damien.” “I hope you remember our meeting today.” “Yes, I do.” “Good. Be quick. Anna had a dream and needs prayers.” The moment he heard Anna’s name, Carden’s stomach tightened

Night stretched thin over the city, leaving behind a restless quiet that felt more like anticipation than peace. Father Damien sat alone in his room, the lamp on his desk casting a narrow pool of light across worn pages of scripture he could no longer focus on. His mind kept returning to Anna—her eyes, observant and searching, as though she were looking past the man he pretended to be and straight into the truth beneath. Arnold’s departure changed things. Damien could feel it in the air, like a chessboard resetting itself while one dangerous player stepped away. Opportunities opened in moments like these, but so did risks. He rose from his chair and stood by the window. Somewhere beyond the chapel walls, plans were already moving—Fred racing to protect his family, Arnold tightening his grip from afar, and Anna standing in the center of it all, unaware of how many forces were pulling at her. Or perhaps she was more aware than anyone realized. Anna lay awake in her room long after

…squeezing her breast as she moans without control. The stage is set; both are working together in a language only lovers understand. She takes over as she turns him to the wall, switching positions. "You don’t look like someone who was shaking earlier," Father Damien smirked. Anna smiled. "I told you I’ve seen it, even though I haven’t done it." "Impressive," Father Damien moaned. Anna dominates as she goes down on him. He’s overpowered, letting out a masculine moan while she works rhythmically, her head and hands assisting. He can’t take it anymore; he grabs her by the shoulders, turns her to the wall, and lifts her onto the bed. Her bare skin presses against his cassock, showing his arousal. He stands tall in front of her after laying her down. "Watch me," he commanded. Anna stared at him, wondering what he was about to do. It was getting late, but she didn’t mind. All she ever wanted was standing in front of her. For a split second, she forgot about her condition, abou

Anna froze. She never expected Arnold to be back so quickly; she knew she was in trouble. “I… I…” Anna stammered. “I went for a walk.” Arnold signaled the maid and the other guards to leave, allowing only the guard at the gate to remain. He stood up, walking slowly toward Anna, who was shivering. “Since when do you start going for a walk, Anna?” Arnold snapped. Anna stayed silent, looking down. "I was away for a few hours and you vanished into thin air! Anna, for the last time, where have you been?" Arnold snapped. Anna raised her head, her gaze fixed on Arnold, and snapped back, "I went for a walk! I can’t be in a prison forever. I’m turning into a woman; it seems you are forgetting to see that." Arnold was shocked. Anna had never spoken to him in this manner. In a fit of rage, he drew a small gun from his pocket and shot the guard that was at the gate went Anna left.The guard fell to the ground lifeless. Anna froze. Her courage lowered. Arnold pointed the gun