All Chapters of Screwed Into Forever [Forbidden Collection]: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

155 Chapters

Chapter 29 _ The Last Secret

The backyard smelled like cut grass and the last roses of the season. Theo sat cross-legged on the picnic blanket between them, a half-eaten slice of watermelon dripping down his wrist. The sun was low and golden, turning everything soft. Sophia’s heart beat so hard she felt it in her throat. Tristan cleared his throat. “Buddy, there’s one more thing we need to tell you. About before.” Theo looked up, juice on his chin. “Is it bad?” “No,” Sophia said quickly. She pulled him onto her lap so he could feel her heartbeat against his back. “It’s just… big. And we should have told you sooner.” Tristan met her eyes over their son’s head, then spoke. “The night your mom and I… made you, it was complicated. I was scared. I did a lot of things wrong. I let everyone think you were Uncle Ethan’s son because I thought it would fix what I broke. But you were always mine. From the very first day.” Theo was quiet for a long time, kicking one foot against the blanket. Then he leaned back aga

Last Updated : 2026-05-11

BOOK 13 : Shadows Of The Penthouse _Chapter 1

LYDIA I dragged my suitcase through the lobby of the building like it weighed twice as much as it did. The doorman nodded politely, same as always, but I could feel the judgment in his quick glance at my paint-splattered jeans and the canvas bag slung over my shoulder. Another failed show. Another month where I hadn't sold a single piece. At twenty-four, I was still crashing at my stepfather's penthouse whenever life kicked me in the teeth. The elevator ride up felt endless. I stared at my reflection in the mirrored walls—dark circles under my eyes, hair pulled back in a messy knot, lips chapped from biting them during the cab ride home. When the doors opened, the apartment smelled like coffee and expensive leather, the way it always did. Quiet. Too quiet. "Lydia." His voice came from the living room before I even set my bag down. Daniel stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, phone in hand, still in his suit even though it was past eight. Tall, broad-shouldered, silver start

Last Updated : 2026-06-02

Chapter 2

LYDIA That evening I was in the living room, sketchpad on my lap, trying to draw something—anything—that didn't feel like failure. Daniel came in from a late meeting, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up.He paused when he saw me. "Working?""Trying." I flipped the page. The drawing was him—profile sharp against the city lights. I slammed the pad shut.He raised an eyebrow. "Can I see?""No." Heat crept up my neck. "It's bad."He sat on the couch across from me. "You used to show me everything when you were younger.""That was different." I met his eyes. "I was a kid.""You're not a kid anymore." His voice was low. Matter-of-fact.The air felt thicker. I swallowed. "No. I'm not."Silence again. Then he reached over, gently took the sketchpad from my hands. I let him.He opened it to the page I'd been hiding. Studied it for a long moment."It's good," he said finally. "Really good."I laughed, short and bitter. "It's just you.""Exactly." He handed it back. "You see things other people mi

Last Updated : 2026-06-02

Chapter 3

LYDIA The days after that kiss blurred into a tense, silent war with myself. I avoided Daniel as much as possible—ate breakfast early, stayed in my room sketching until my hand cramped, left the apartment for long walks in the rain just to breathe air that didn’t smell like him. But the penthouse was too big and too small at the same time. Every hallway, every shadow reminded me of how his mouth had felt on mine, how his hands had gripped my waist like he was anchoring himself. I told myself it was a one-time mistake. Heat of the moment. Loneliness talking. But every night I lay in bed replaying it, fingers slipping between my legs almost without permission, chasing the ghost of that friction against his lap. I came hard and quiet, biting my pillow, hating how good it felt and how wrong the fantasy was. Friday afternoon I cracked. I needed supplies—charcoal, new canvas—and the art store was only a twenty-minute walk. When I came back, arms full of bags, the apartment smelled l

Last Updated : 2026-06-03

Chapter 4

LYDIA Dinner was quiet. Too quiet. We sat across from each other at the island, picking at the same Chinese food that had gone cold while we were in the studio. Neither of us mentioned what happened. We didn’t have to. My thighs still ached faintly from clamping around his hand, and every time I shifted on the stool I felt the dampness between my legs, a reminder that wouldn’t let me pretend it was just a dream. Daniel ate methodically—fork to mouth, chew, swallow—like this was any other meal. But his eyes kept flicking to me. Quick glances. Checking. Waiting. I couldn’t look at him for more than a second without my pulse jumping. So I stared at my plate. Pushed noodles around. The silence stretched until it hurt. Finally I set my fork down. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?” He paused mid-bite. Lowered the fork slowly. “Doing what?” “Don’t.” My voice came out sharper than I wanted. “Don’t play dumb. You locked the door. You followed me. You—” I swallowed. “You licked your

Last Updated : 2026-06-03

Chapter 5

LYDIA The ride home from the gala was silent except for the low hum of the town car and the occasional crackle of rain on the roof. Daniel sat beside me, thigh pressed to mine again, but neither of us moved to close the gap or widen it. My dress was wrinkled now, the slit riding higher on my thigh from how I’d been sitting—legs crossed tight to keep the dampness from showing. I could still feel him inside me from the bathroom stall: the stretch, the heat, the way he’d held my mouth closed while I came around his fingers. My body was sore in the best way, but my head was a mess. We didn’t speak until the elevator doors closed behind us. Daniel hit the penthouse button. The mirrored walls threw our reflections back at us—him still perfect in his tux, me flushed and disheveled, lipstick smudged at the corner of my mouth. He noticed. Reached over without a word and wiped the mark away with his thumb. Gentle. Almost tender. The doors opened. We stepped into the apartment. Lights

Last Updated : 2026-06-05

Chapter 6

LYDIA Monday morning hit like a hangover I hadn’t earned. Sunlight sliced through the blinds in Daniel’s bedroom—sharp, accusing. I woke up alone. The sheets on his side were cool. No note. No text. Just the faint indent where his body had been and the lingering scent of his skin on the pillow. I sat up slowly. Naked. Sore in places I hadn’t been sore in a long time. My dress from the gala was still crumpled on the floor. I pulled on one of his shirts—too big, sleeves hanging past my hands—and padded barefoot to the kitchen. Coffee was already brewing. A single mug sat on the counter with a Post-it stuck to it: Meeting ran early. Back by noon. We need to talk. —D. My stomach knotted. “Talk” never meant anything good in this context. I poured the coffee. Drank it black. Burned my tongue. Didn’t care. The apartment felt too quiet without him. I wandered to the living room, sat on the couch where we’d first kissed. Pulled my knees to my chest. Tried to sort through the tangl

Last Updated : 2026-06-05

Chapter 7

LYDIA The Carlyle suite was beautiful in the way expensive hotel rooms always are—crisp white linens, fresh flowers on the table, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Central Park. It should have felt like a luxury. Instead it felt like exile. I dropped my suitcase inside the door and stood there for a long minute, staring at nothing. My phone had been silent since Daniel’s last text. No follow-up. No “Are you okay?” Just the practical arrangement of distance. I unpacked mechanically. Hung clothes in the closet. Placed my sketchpad on the desk. Then I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the wall until my eyes burned. The first night I didn’t sleep. I lay on top of the covers fully dressed, phone clutched in my hand like it might ring if I willed it hard enough. It didn’t. Around three a.m. I opened my messages anyway. Read his last one again. ~ I’ll stay at the office until you’re ready to come back. Ready. Like this was something I could prepare for. Like I could wake up

Last Updated : 2026-06-06

Chapter 8

LYDIA The next few days felt like walking on cracked ice—every step careful, every conversation measured. We didn’t rush back into bed. We didn’t pretend the last week hadn’t happened. Instead we did small, ordinary things together that somehow carried weight. We ate breakfast at the island instead of in silence. He made coffee the way I liked it—too much sugar, a splash of milk. I sat across from him in the mornings and sketched while he read emails on his tablet. Sometimes our knees brushed under the counter. Sometimes they didn’t. Neither felt wrong. We talked. Really talked. Not just about us, but about everything we’d avoided for years. One evening after dinner he asked about the art shows I’d bombed. Not in the patronizing way he used to—no offers of money or connections—just quiet questions. Why I chose certain subjects. What scared me about showing my work. I answered honestly for the first time. Told him how it felt like every canvas was a piece of me on display, and eve

Last Updated : 2026-06-07

BOOK 14 : Fractured Echoes _ Chapter 1: The Weight of a Confession

The locker room after Friday practice always carried that heavy, familiar stench—sweat-soaked pads, cheap Axe body spray, and the faint metallic tang of the rusty showers dripping in the background. Dominic sat on the wooden bench, elbows on his knees, staring at the scuffed tiles while the rest of the team joked and shoved each other around. His dark hair was still damp from the quick rinse, and his muscles ached from the drills Coach had run them through. But none of that compared to the knot twisting in his gut.Across the room, Kyle was in the middle of it all, as usual. Laughing loud at some dumb story about last weekend’s party, his blond hair messy and sticking up in that effortless way that made half the cheer squad stare. He had his shirt half-on, revealing the lean lines of his torso, the faint tan from summer practices. Dominic had memorized every inch of him over the years. They’d been inseparable since second grade—building tree forts, sneaking video games past bedti

Last Updated : 2026-06-11

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