Todos los capítulos de WEBS OF FORBIDDEN ENTANGLEMENT: Capítulo 91 - Capítulo 100

Raymond did not answer her immediately.Not because he did not hear the question, nor because he did not understand what lay beneath it, but because the weight of it required more than instinct, more than reassurance, more than the kind of response that could be given simply to ease the moment and move past it.He understood exactly what she meant. Not just the surface of it. But the deeper, more dangerous layer beneath. Because seeing Mark again would not be neutral. It would not be distant.It would not be contained within the clean structure of a courtroom where everything was controlled and moderated and defined by rules that people like Mark knew how to bend without ever appearing to break.It would be personal. And personal… It was unpredictable.Raymond stepped closer to the bed, his gaze settling on her, steady, grounded, as though anchoring himself before speaking, because whatever he said now had to hold, had to remain with her when he was not close enough to steady her phys

The pain did not come like a sharp break.It did not strike with violence or sudden force that demanded immediate panic or chaos, but instead moved slowly, deliberately, threading its way through Tricia’s body with a quiet insistence that made it more frightening, because it was controlled, contained, and yet impossible to ignore.Her fingers tightened slightly against the bedsheet. Not enough to alarm someone who was not watching closely.But Raymond was watching. He had been watching.“Tricia,” he said softly, stepping closer, his voice steady but alert, already recognising that something had shifted beyond discomfort and into something that required attention.She inhaled carefully.“It’s… it’s not sharp,” she said, her voice low, controlled, as though naming it incorrectly might make it worse. “Just… tight.”Raymond’s jaw tightened slightly, but he did not interrupt her.“Does it hurt?” he asked.She hesitated.Then nodded once.“A little,” she admitted.That was enough.He reache

Morning did not arrive gently.It came with movement, with quiet urgency layered beneath controlled routines, with footsteps that carried purpose rather than hesitation, because what had been set in motion the night before was no longer reactive, and could no longer afford to be, but had instead shifted into something deliberate, something structured, something that demanded precision from everyone involved.Tricia woke to stillness. Not the kind that soothed. But the kind that waited.Her body felt heavy, not just from the strain of the previous day, but from the lingering weight of everything that had been said, everything that had been revealed, and everything that was now approaching with a certainty she could no longer delay or soften.For a moment, she did not move.She listened. The steady rhythm of the monitor. The faint movement outside the room. The quiet presence beside her.Raymond.He was awake. She did not need to turn to know that.“You didn’t sleep,” she said softly.I

The detention interview room was built to erase personality.Its walls were colourless, its lighting too bright to be comforting and too flat to create warmth, its furniture chosen not for beauty or comfort but for durability, for function, for the quiet message that nothing personal belonged there. It was a room designed to reduce people to statements, to facts, to whatever could be recorded and entered into a file.Mark sat within it as though none of that mattered.His posture was composed, one arm resting lightly against the chair, his expression unreadable in the calm way that unsettled people who expected anxiety from men in custody. Across from him, his solicitor closed a folder with controlled finality, the sound small but sharp in the stillness.“I need you to understand the position clearly,” the man said.Mark did not look away.“I already do,” he replied.The solicitor’s jaw tightened slightly. He was a man used to clients who either panicked or lied to themselves, men who

Sleep never truly settled in the hospital room.It came in fragments, in brief stretches of drifting silence broken by the soft pulse of monitors, the opening and closing of distant doors, the muted footsteps of nurses moving through the corridor beyond. The city outside the tall windows had long since dimmed into scattered lights, but inside, the hours seemed to move with deliberate slowness, each one aware of what waited ahead.Tricia lay awake long after midnight.She rested on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, the other curved protectively over the gentle rise of her abdomen. The room was dim enough that shapes blurred at the edges, yet she could still make out Raymond in the chair beside her bed.He had insisted on staying.He had fallen asleep there sometime after two, though sleep on him looked more like temporary surrender than rest. His arms were folded, head angled back, jaw still tense even in unconsciousness, as though some part of him refused to stand down comp