Soaked Wet for My Three Exes(a reverse harem erotica) のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 21 - チャプター 30

Steve's POV:Today was my last day in Singapore. It was supposed to be peaceful but yet again Lina Chen had spotted me.She is in the same business as me but instead of acting like a rival she kept giving me signs. I have no interest in her. Sure, some men might consider her beautiful but she is nothing compared to Darcelle and even if she was, my loyalties lie with Darcelle and so does my heart.She slid onto the stool next to mine without asking.“Mr. Bennett,” she said, voice low, accented just enough to make it interesting. “You’re drinking alone?”“Steve,” I corrected, not turning. “And yeah. Just winding down.”She signaled the bartender. “Same as him. And put it on my tab.”I glanced at her then. “I can pay for my own drinks.”“I know.” She smiled.“But I like buying them for handsome men who pretend they don’t notice me staring.”I took a slow sip. “I noticed.”“Good.” She leaned in just enough that her perfume hit me. “Then why pretend?”“Because I’m not interested.”She laug

Steve's POV:The plane leveled off at cruising altitude. I had the window seat, the city lights of Singapore were long gone below the clouds. Nothing but black out there now. Just me, a half empty water bottle, and the small velvet box in my pocket.I pulled it out again, flipped the lid open under the tray table so the overhead reading light caught the stone. A thin gold chain with a single teardrop sapphire in deep blue. I’d found it in a tiny shop off Orchard Road, tucked between tourist traps and high end malls. The vendor had called it “ocean tear,” and said it was supposed to bring calm after storms. It felt fitting. She deserved something beautiful.I closed the box, thumb rubbing the soft velvet. Would she smile the way she did when Noah picked the right dress? Would she tilt her head and say “Steve, you didn’t have to” while already reaching to put it on? Or would she just look at me with those eyes that see right through every layer I try to keep up and say “thank you” so qu

Josh’s POVThe phone was already at my ear before the second ring finished.“Steve.”“Josh. Darcie’s missing. Her villa’s empty. Door unlocked. Her clutch’s on the floor. The phone dropped near the couch. She’s gone.”I was already moving.“How long?” I asked, voice flat. I yanked open the drawer, pulled my gun, checked the mag out of habit. Full.“Twenty, maybe thirty minutes since I landed and drove straight there. Noah’s on his way. I’m here now. No blood. No broken glass. Just… her stuff scattered like she didn’t have time to grab it.”“Christopher.”It wasn’t a question.Steve exhaled once, sharp. “That’s what my gut’s screaming. He’s desperate. Broke. Cornered. This is his last play.”My jaw locked so hard I tasted metal.I grabbed my keys, my jacket, the spare burner I kept charged in the safe. “Stay there. Don’t touch anything else. I’m pulling the gate cam footage now. I want every second from when Noah left until you arrived.”“Josh-”“Steve.” I cut him off. “She’s alive. He

Christopher's POV:The highway blurred past. My foot was welded to the accelerator. The speedometer needle trembled past 140 kph, it was too fast for these roads, too fast for the tires, too fast for anything except running.I kept glancing at the rearview mirror. Nothing yet. No headlights. No flashing lights. But I knew they were back there. Somewhere. Josh fucking Muller. Ricky told me there are two more men. Darcelle had ultimately become a slut apparently. If he’d found the warehouse, he’d find me.I’d seen them on the camera, five cars sweeping the access road.No uniforms. That was worse. That meant they weren’t police. That meant they were hers.I’d slammed the SUV into gear and floored it before the cameras even finished panning.Darcie was gone. She’d jumped out. I’d seen the trunk lid pop open in the mirror, seen her roll into the gravel like a discarded doll. I’d hit the brakes hard enough to fishtail, but the lights were already closing in. I didn’t have time to chase her

Darcelle’s POV:Three days after the warehouse, the hospital finally let me go.They’d kept me longer than I wanted for mild concussion, hypothermia they’d monitored like I might shatter and a map of cuts and bruises they insisted on re-dressing twice a day. I hated the sterile smell, the constant beeping, the way every nurse spoke to me like I was fragile. I wasn’t fragile. I was tired. Angry. Ready to be home.But the quiet of the hospital room had given me too much time to think. About Christopher’s hands on me. The way he’d looked at me like I was still something he could control.It also gave me time to think about the three men who’d ripped the night apart to find me.Steve never left the hospital. He slept in the chair beside my bed, brought real coffee instead of the weak hospital stuff, handled every work email so I didn’t have to stare at a screen when my head throbbed. He read updates from the office aloud, summarized board calls, signed off on urgent approvals with my whis