All Chapters of Fucked Into Forever [Forbidden Collection]: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Rhys's POV The festival afterglow still clung to my skin—sweat, smoke, the faint scent of Lena’s perfume mixed with summer night air. We’d barely spoken on the subway ride back to her place. Words felt too small for what was humming between us, so we let the silence do the talking. Her hand in mine. My thumb stroking the inside of her wrist. The way her breathing changed every time I squeezed.Her apartment was above the bookstore—small, cluttered with books and vinyl, a single window overlooking the quiet street. The second the door clicked shut behind us, the tension snapped.I pushed her against it, gentle but firm. Her back hit wood. My mouth found hers—deep, slow, like we had all the time in the world now. She tasted like beer and summer and the promise of something that didn’t end at dawn.Her hands were everywhere—under my shirt, nails raking down my back, tugging at my belt. I groaned into her mouth when she palmed me through my jeans, already hard and aching.“Rhys,” she

Declan's POV The next morning in Manhattan was quiet—too quiet. Snow fell in lazy drifts outside the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse, blanketing the city in soft white silence. The usual hum of traffic was muted; most people were home unwrapping gifts, drinking mimosas, pretending the world wasn't built on secrets and leverage. I hadn't slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her: Mira Kane, emerald gown pooling at her feet, thighs trembling around my shoulders, the taste of her still vivid on my tongue. The way she'd gasped my name when I thrust into her—sharp, surprised, like she hadn't expected to want it as much as she did. The way her walls had clenched around me when she came, pulling me deeper, milking me until I lost control. I'd fucked plenty of women in my life. Power was an aphrodisiac; money even more so. But none of them had looked at me like Mira had—through a mask, yes, but with eyes that saw too much. Eyes that challenged even as they surrendered.

Declan's POV The Voss Enterprises boardroom on the 78th floor was empty except for the hum of the HVAC and the low glow of city lights bleeding through the blinds. I sat alone at the head of the long obsidian table, sleeves rolled to my elbows, the safety deposit box key spinning slowly between my fingers.Mira had taken it three days ago. She hadn’t come back since.I’d given her everything: unredacted financials, internal memos, the whistleblower’s full report (sanitized only for Elena’s new identity), even the audit trail proving the Helix merger was clean—aggressive, yes, but legal. No bribes. No disappearances. Just ruthless efficiency.She’d looked at me like she didn’t know whether to kiss me or stab me when I handed her the key.Then she’d left without a word.I hadn’t heard from her since.The silence was louder than any accusation.I opened my laptop. Pulled up the security feed for my building. Fast-forwarded to the night she left. Watched her step into the elevator—hair

The hotel room smelled like sweat and the faint metallic tang of the city rain that still clung to Jordan’s suit jacket. He kicked the door shut with his heel, not bothering with the lock because Alex already had him pinned against the wall before the latch clicked.“Ten minutes,” Jordan growled, but his hands were already yanking Alex’s belt open. “I have to be downtown by noon.”Alex laughed low against his throat, teeth scraping skin. “Then shut up and fuck me faster.”They didn’t make it to the bed. Jordan spun him, shoved him chest-first into the mirrored closet door so they could both watch. Alex’s palms slapped the glass, leaving foggy prints. Jordan dragged his jeans down just enough, spit into his own hand, and pushed in raw—no prep, no mercy, the way they both liked it when time was short and the ache was worse than any burn.Alex hissed, forehead thunking against the mirror. “Harder. Make it hurt so I feel you all day while you’re signing that fucking contract.”Jordan gr

The rehearsal dinner was supposed to be small—just family, a few board members, and the officiant who kept cracking the same tired joke about “mergers in more ways than one.” Jordan sat at the head table with Rhonda on his right, her hand resting lightly on his thigh under the tablecloth like it belonged there. Alex sat directly across, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened, laughing at something their uncle said while his foot pressed deliberately against Jordan’s calf under the table.Jordan nearly dropped his fork.Rhonda leaned in, voice low and warm against his ear. “You’re quiet tonight. Everything okay?”“Yeah,” he lied, forcing a smile. Her perfume mixed with the red wine on her breath, and for a second he felt something dangerously close to guilt-tinged affection. She’d spent the afternoon showing him old family photos, pointing out the horse she used to ride with Alex when they were kids, her eyes lighting up every time she said her brother’s name. “Just thinking about tomorrow