All Chapters of The Debt Of Sin: I’m sleeping with my husband son!: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

For a second, I don’t move. I just stand there, my fingers hovering inches from the handle, my pulse slow but heavy, each beat deliberate.Then I heard noises. Voices.Low and Muted. Coming from inside.I freeze. Was he awake? When? There’s no mistaking it. Two voices. One of them is his. Even weakened, even strained, Viktor’s voice carries that same unmistakable weight, that same control threaded through every word.The other, I frowned. Why is she here alone? My stomach twists.Anastasia.I don’t know how I know.I just do.Carefully, almost instinctively, I push the door open just enough to see inside.And I stop breathing.Anastasia stands near the bed, her posture composed but not relaxed, her arms loosely folded, her head tilted slightly as she watches Viktor. She doesn’t look like a visitor.She looks like she belongs there.Like she has been there.Viktor lies against the hospital pillows, pale but far from weak. His eyes are sharp, alert, fixed on her with a focus that mak

The house is quiet again.Too quiet.The kind of silence that lingers long after anger has burned through the air, leaving behind something heavier. Something unresolved. It follows me even after I shut my door, even after I try to lie down, even after I close my eyes and will myself to sleep.It doesn’t come.My thoughts are too loud.Roman’s face.Anastasia’s voice.The way it all unfolded.It replays in fragments, over and over again, each piece sharper than the last, each memory cutting deeper than it should.I turn onto my side, then onto my back, then onto my stomach. Nothing helps. The restlessness only grows, coiling tighter in my chest until I can’t ignore it anymore.With a frustrated breath, I push the covers off and sit up.Water.That’s all I need.Just something to break the tension sitting in my throat.I slide off the bed and walk out of my room, the hallway dim and quiet. The house feels different at night, like it’s holding its breath, like it knows something I don’t

The drive to the hospital feels endless.Every second stretches, pulling thin, refusing to move fast enough. My fingers won’t stop trembling in my lap, my breath uneven, shallow, like if I take a full one, everything will collapse into something real I’m not ready to face.No.It’s not real. It can’t be. I just left him.He was alive. He was speaking.Looking at me with those sharp, calculating eyes.Men like Viktor don’t just… die.They don’t disappear that easily.So this, This has to be a mistake.It has to be.The car finally stops, and I don’t wait. I push the door open before it’s fully steady, stepping out quickly, almost stumbling as I rush toward the hospital entrance. The doors slide open, that same sterile smell hitting me again, stronger this time, suffocating.My heart pounds louder with every step.“Room 312,” I mutter to myself, already moving, already heading toward the elevator.Everything feels too familiar.Too recent.Like I never really left.The elevator doors op

The house feels different after the burial.Not just quiet, but hollow.Like something that once held weight, presence, control… has been ripped out, leaving behind an emptiness that doesn’t sit right. The walls don’t echo the same way. The air doesn’t settle the same way. Even the silence feels unfamiliar, stretched thin, uneasy.I step into the kitchen slowly, my body heavier than it should be, my thoughts louder than I can control.The lights are already on, too bright against my tired eyes. They make everything look too clear, too exposed, like there’s nowhere to hide from what’s running through my mind.I move toward the fridge without thinking.Water.That’s all I need.Just something to calm the dryness in my throat. Something to steady the way my chest feels too tight, like it hasn’t relaxed since the hospital.I open the fridge, grab a bottle, and twist the cap open with fingers that aren’t as steady as I want them to be.The first sip is cold.Sharp.But it doesn’t settle an

My hands roamed over his broad shoulders, peeling away his shirt to reveal the taut muscles etched with the day's labor, my fingers tracing the familiar contours as if rediscovering a lost map. Roman groaned, his arousal evident as his cock hardened against my thigh, straining through his jeans, and he lifted me effortlessly onto the kitchen counter, the cool edge pressing into my skin as I wrapped my legs around him. My blouse fell open under his urgent hands, exposing my breasts, nipples peaking in the warm air, and he cupped them reverently, his thumbs circling the sensitive buds until I arched into him with a soft moan. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he breathed, his mouth descending to taste me, his tongue flicking and teasing while his free hand slipped under my skirt, finding my pussy already slick with desire. I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair as he stroked my folds, the intimate rhythm building between us, each touch a bridge to the passion we’ve starved for, our bodies m