Lahat ng Kabanata ng What Daddy Left Behind: Kabanata 161 - Kabanata 170

~ Thea’s POVThe scalding hot water cascaded over my shoulders, filling the massive glass enclosure of the master bathroom with thick, billowing clouds of white steam.I stood completely still under the rain showerhead, letting the heat seep into my freezing, exhausted bones. Behind me, Stellan’s massive, scarred chest was pressed flush against my back. His large hands were working a rich, cedarwood-scented lather into my dark hair. He moved with a slow, agonizing reverence, his long fingers massaging my scalp, entirely focused on washing away the ashes and the trauma of the last forty-eight hours.It was a silent, beautiful baptism.Stellan rinsed the soap from my hair, his hands sliding down my arms, tracing the delicate, bruised lines of my ribs with butterfly-light touches so he wouldn't aggravate the pain. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. The frantic, terrified boy from yesterday was completely gone, replaced by a quiet, towering protector who was actively drawing his strength

~ Stellan's POV"Then why don't we go make our own later?"Thea’s voice was a barely audible, silken whisper against the shell of my ear, but it struck my central nervous system.I completely froze. My pitch-black eyes snapped down to her face. She was sitting so close to me, her dark eyes completely stripped of the terrifying, lethal Queen who had held a gun to my abuser’s head, replaced entirely by the wicked, fiercely devoted woman who owned my soul.I swallowed hard, the thick, heavy tension in my throat bobbing visibly.A profound, violent surge of heat pooled instantly in my groin. The sheer, intoxicating magnitude of her promise—the idea of creating a life with her, of replacing the darkest ashes of my past with a future forged from our absolute devotion—made me instantly, agonizingly hard. My large hand, resting on the mahogany table, tightened into a fist until the wood groaned in protest.Seeing the immediate, predatory darkening of my eyes, Thea leaned back slightly. A low,

~ Thea’s POVStacy spun around on her designer heels. Her arm, which had been raised to violently point at the Chief Financial Officer, completely froze in mid-air. For a fraction of a second, her blue eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated panic as she recognized the black tailored suit and the unyielding Mercer steel radiating from my posture.But then, she saw Stellan standing right behind me.She assumed that because my husband was in the room, the terrifying, broken boy from the Tribeca penthouse had returned. She assumed he had brought me here to beg for mercy. Stacy’s chest heaved, her face flushing with a toxic, manic arrogance as she dropped her arm and sneered."You?" Stacy scoffed, letting out a sharp, hysterical laugh that bounced off the polished mahogany table. She looked me up and down with dripping condescension. "You have absolutely no authority here, little girl. I am an Executive Vice President of Vaughn Enterprises. I am a majority shareholder by proxy of my son’s t

~ Stellan’s POV"The sequencing is complete, sir. I have the results."Dr. Aris’s voice was a thin, trembling wire stretched across the secure, hardwired connection.I didn't lift the heavy black receiver to my ear. I reached down, my finger pressing the speaker button on the mahogany console. The glowing red indicator light flared to life, filling the quiet, sunlit expanse of the master suite with the faint, ambient hum of the subterranean laboratory.I wanted Thea to hear this. I wanted my wife, the woman who had walked into the darkest, most radioactive epicenter of my trauma and dragged me out alive, to be present for the final verdict. I reached out, my large hand entirely enveloping hers. She squeezed my fingers, her grip an unbreakable, titanium anchor."Read it, Aris," I commanded, my voice a low, gravelly rumble that betrayed none of the violent, apocalyptic tension warring inside my chest.A heavy, rustling sound of thick medical parchment echoed over the speaker."I persona

~ Thea’s POVThe morning sun over Manhattan was blindingly bright, entirely completely severing the heavy, grey storm clouds that had suffocated the city for the past three days.I stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows of the grand boardroom on the eightieth floor of Vaughn Enterprises, looking out over the sprawling, sunlit metropolis. The sky was a pristine, unbroken blue. It was the perfect weather for an execution."She has arrived at the plaza, Mrs. Vaughn," Graham’s crisp, British voice broke the hushed silence of the massive room.I turned away from the glass. The grand boardroom was a masterpiece of corporate intimidation. A massive, thirty-foot polished mahogany table dominated the center of the space, surrounded by plush, high-backed leather executive chairs. Usually, this room was a warzone of shouting billionaires, aggressive takeovers, and ruthless negotiations.Today, it was a tomb.I had given a direct, unequivocal order to Carlisle and the rest of the board of direct