All Chapters of Bound by paper : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO: Jade’s POV I woke up before him. That was new. Usually, he was a ghost by the time the sun hit the floorboards, already armored in a three-piece suit and a corporate agenda. For a moment, I did not move. I didn't even open my eyes. I just stayed there, basking in the radiating heat of his body. His arm was still draped around me, not with the crushing force of a restraint, but with a quiet, heavy certainty, as if it had finally found its rightful place. My back rested lightly against the solid expanse of his chest, the steady, rhythmic hum of his breathing brushing against the sensitive skin of my neck. For a heartbeat, I allowed myself to enjoy it. No questions. No legal strategies. Just this. Then my mind caught up. The warmth felt complicated again as the echoes of the courtroom returned to haunt me. Adam. The way Killian had whispered "yes" when they called him negligent. The jagged guilt he carried like a second skin. My chest tightened. Carefully, I shif

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR: Jade’s POV A whole weekend alone with Killian Montclair. The words replayed in my head like a warning bell I refused to acknowledge, a rhythmic tolling that signaled the end of my safety. I stood in the foyer long after the sound of Camille’s car had faded into the distance, staring at the heavy oak door as if it might magically open and return my world to its previous, manageable orbit. The house remained silent. For the first time since I had moved into this sprawling fortress of glass and stone, the quiet did not feel empty. It felt thick and heavy, like the air before a lightning strike. It was a silence of anticipation. I swallowed hard, suddenly and painfully aware of how exposed I was. It was not just the physical reality of the short silk dress or the fact that I had intentionally left my bra in the drawer. It was an emotional nakedness I was not prepared for. It was one thing to play the role of the devoted, perfect wife in front of a judge or a social w

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX: Jade’s POV The house felt like it was exhaling a long and steady breath. As the clock ticked toward midnight, the silence began to feel sanctuary-like. We had moved to the dinning for dinner and back to the media room, but the atmosphere had shifted from the high-energy tension of the afternoon into something softer and much more dangerous. It was a glowing coal of intimacy that felt far more permanent than a temporary distraction. I was lying on Killian’s chest with my head tucked into the crook of his neck. My legs were draped over his, tangled together in a way that made the distinction between our bodies feel blurred. A movie was playing on the large screen, but I could tell he was not really watching the bright colors or the sweeping score. He was staring at the screen because I was, his hand mindfully stroking my hair in a slow and rhythmic motion that made my eyes heavy. “Do you actually like movies, Killian?” I asked quietly. My voice was barely a whispe

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT: Jade’s POV I did not run to my room after I left Killian’s office. I wanted to, but my legs felt weak enough to betray me if I tried. Running would make it obvious that I had something to hide, and in this house, transparency was the only currency I had left. I walked out with my head held high, forcing my breath to remain steady even though my lips were still tingling from how close he had been. I could still feel the phantom pressure of his hands on my waist, a heavy and unrestrained presence that made every other thought scatter like ash. I reached the living room and found Margaret folding a blanket near the hearth. She looked up, her expression calm as if she had not just heard the atmospheric pressure of the house shift. “Ma’am,” she greeted softly. “Margaret, did Caleb leave?” I asked, trying to sound like a woman who had not just been pinned against an office desk. She nodded. “Yes. He did. The gentleman is very stressed today, Ma'am. You calm him, e

CHAPTER FIFTY: Killian’s POV I had spent the better part of my life mastering the art of the vacuum. I lived in the space between breaths, in the silence of boardrooms, and in the cold logic of contracts. I believed that if I controlled the narrative, the world could never surprise me. I believed that people were variables to be managed and emotions were simply background noise that could be muted with enough discipline. But as I sat in the back of the car beside Jade, the silence was not cold. It was vibrating. She was looking out the window, her profile sharp against the passing lights of the city. She had thrown her cream blazer back over her shoulders, but it did not hide the marks I had left on her neck. Looking at them now, in the dim light of the moving car, I felt a surge of possessiveness so primal it bordered on physical pain. I had put those there because kissing her had felt like a negotiation, and I had reached the point where I wanted to seize the assets. I had wante