Alle Kapitel von Sinful Desires: Fatal bonds: Kapitel 61 – Kapitel 70

Classes were still weeks away from me attempting to waltz in again because the moment I tried logging into my student portal, the system flagged my account for “additional verification.” A polite way of saying someone higher up was dragging their feet. They definitely believed her too, no one believed me, not one call from my parents. It seemed really convenient, as I wasn't rushing over to them to get justice they also were eager to have nothing to do with me. I stayed in the apartment. No point testing the waters when every time I thought about stepping outside, my stomach turned to lead. That afternoon, the GoFundMe hit ₦3.4 million. Aldric showed me the screenshot without comment. The description had been updated overnight: > Thank you for the overwhelming support. I’m safe for now, but the retaliation hasn’t stopped. Last night I was coerced into visiting the accused’s friends’ apartment under threat of further defamation. They recorded me “apologizing” to use against me

The bus dropped me at the edge of our house, still as huge as always, the streetlights flickered on. No welcoming gate, no relatives waiting with phones out, and I was thankful. Just the hum of traffic, neon from the 24-hour bodega, and the faint smell of rain on hot asphalt. My old studio apartment was still sublet to some random grad student, it was a reward for many of my achievements, my own apartment outside my parents.. but I couldn’t go back there anyway, so I dragged my duffel to the cheapest motel on the outskirts, I couldn't deal with them just yet, good thing I haven't told them I was coming home. I felt dread thinking of how they'd bully me. The motel had the kind with flickering vacancy signs and stains on the carpet you don’t ask about. I paid cash. The clerk barely looked up. Inside the room I dropped onto the sagging mattress, back against the headboard, staring at the peeling wallpaper. No family to face. No cousins laughing in the hallway. Just silence and the

The motel room was quiet except for the low hum of the air conditioner and the occasional car passing on the wet street outside. Rain had started again...soft, steady, drumming against the window like it was trying to drown out the world. Seraphiel hadn’t left after the first round. He’d stayed buried inside Zero for long minutes, softening slowly, kissing the sweat from his temples until Zero’s breathing evened out. Neither of them had spoken much. Words felt too heavy tonight.Eventually Seraphiel eased out, both of them wincing at the sudden emptiness. He rolled to the side, pulling Zero against his chest, one arm slung possessively over his waist. Zero’s back pressed to Seraphiel’s front, skin still flushed and sticky. They lay like that for a while, limbs tangled, hearts slowing in tandem, until Seraphiel’s hand started wandering again. Lazy circles over Zero’s stomach, dipping lower, brushing the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.Zero shivered. “You’re insatiable.”Seraphiel’s

I sat cross-legged on the cheap bed, the thin mattress dipping under my weight, phone propped against a stack of pillows so the camera could catch me properly. My hands were still shaking from everything that had blown up online in the last few hours. The live from Lila. The flood of comments turning against her. The sudden, dizzying shift where the same internet that had wanted to burn me alive was now calling for her head. Relief hit me like a wave, messy, overwhelming, leaving me raw and teetering on the edge of tears. My hair was a disaster, dark strands sticking up in every direction from running my fingers through it too many times. My eyes felt puffy, but when I looked at myself in the front-facing camera, they were shining. Not with the dull, hollow look I’d worn for weeks, but with something brighter, tears of relief mixed with exhaustion, gratitude, and that fragile spark of hope I’d been too scared to let myself feel. I hit record. “Hey,” I said, voice soft and a little

I was still in the oversized white sweater from yesterday’s shopping trip, the soft fabric now rumpled from sleep and Seraphiel’s hands. We’d spent the morning in a lazy haze, him feeding me bites of takeout while I showed him the new lace bralette, both of us pretending the world outside the Airbnb didn’t exist. My phone had stayed mostly silent after the overnight explosion of posts flipping the narrative on Lila. Relief still hummed under my skin like static. Then Seraphiel’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. He glanced at it, frowned, and handed it to me without a word. It was a news alert from a campus gossip account. “Lila Adeyemi, 21, Found Dead in Apparent Suicide. Police Confirm No Foul Play.” My stomach dropped. The article was short, clinical. She had been found early that morning in her temporary off-campus housing. Hanging. A note left behind. No details on the note yet, but the timing, right after her tearful live apology, right after the receipts dropped and the