บททั้งหมดของ In Love with my Father’s Serial Killer : บทที่ 101 - บทที่ 110

Daniella lay on the cold bathroom floor for what felt like hours, the pain a relentless fire that slowly ebbed into a dull, throbbing ache. Blood soaked her clothes and the tiles beneath her. Every breath hurt. Every shift sent fresh waves of agony through her body. But she was alive. The fetus was gone—dragged out in a desperate, violent act of self-destruction.Christian killed my father. He deserves nothing from me. Not a child. Not a future.The thought anchored her through the haze. Revenge was still her purpose. Love was the lie she had almost fallen into. This… this was necessary. A reset.She dragged herself up using the sink, legs shaking, vision swimming. The mirror reflected a stranger: pale face, haunted eyes, hair matted with sweat and blood. She looked exactly like the broken girl who had watched her father die thirteen years ago.“Good,” she whispered to her reflection. “Remember who you are.”With mechanical precision, Daniella cleaned the worst o

The warm water in the large marble tub lapped gently against their bodies. Steam curled around them, thick and intimate, turning the bathroom into a private world. Christian held Daniella close from behind, her back pressed against his solid chest. His hands moved with slow, deliberate reverence, as if he were worshipping every inch of her.He started at her shoulders, massaging the tension away with strong, soapy fingers. Then his hands slid lower, cupping her full breasts. His thumbs brushed over her sensitive nipples already hardened from the cool air and his touch circling them slowly, teasingly. Daniella’s breath hitched, a soft whimper escaping her lips as electricity shot straight between her legs.Christian’s voice was a low, hungry growl against her ear. “You’re so responsive for me.”One of his hands trailed down her stomach, over the curve of her hips, and dipped between her thighs. He parted her folds with two thick fingers, finding her slick and ready. He r

Daniella stepped into Christian’s master bedroom, heart still racing from the intense encounter in the alcove. Her legs felt weak, her core still throbbing with unfulfilled need. She closed the door behind her and moved to the walk-in closet.She chose the black lingerie she knew would drive him wild — a sheer lace bodysuit that clung to every curve like a second skin. The delicate straps framed her full breasts, the cups barely containing them, pushing them up invitingly. The lace hugged her narrow waist before flaring over her wide, fat ass, the material stretching taut across the generous, rounded cheeks. It rode high on her hips, the crotchless design leaving her pussy exposed. The garter straps connected to sheer stockings that accentuated her long, toned legs. Every inch of the lingerie hugged her perfect hourglass figure — big breasts, tiny waist, thick thighs, and that juicy, heart-shaped ass that jiggled slightly with every movement.She dimmed the main lights and s

The private hospital lounge felt smaller with every passing second. The doctor’s words still hung in the air like smoke after an explosion: “Mr. Harper is the father.”Sophia Laurent stood with a triumphant smile, one hand resting protectively over her belly. “I told you. Now the world will know.”Christian looked like someone had punched him in the gut. His face was pale, jaw clenched so tightly Daniella could see the muscle ticking. “This is impossible,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “I’ve never touched you, Sophia. Not once. We were classmates. That’s it.”Sophia’s smile didn’t waver. “The DNA doesn’t lie, Christian. Three months. You can deny it all you want, but the press will love this story. The untouchable billionaire who abandons his pregnant ex while parading around with his new office toy. I’ll make sure every tabloid in the city has it by morning unless you take responsibility.”Daniella stood by the window, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her heart was hammering

The morning after the hospital confrontation dawned gray and heavy over the city. Daniella stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of Christian’s master bedroom, wrapped in a silk robe, watching the rain streak down the glass. Her body still ached from the night before the possessive way he had taken her, the way she had fallen apart under his touch. But the pleasure felt tainted now, overshadowed by the bombshell at the hospital.Pregnant.The word kept echoing in her head. Sophia Laurent, claiming to carry Christian’s child. A child that, according to the rigged test, was his. Daniella’s hand unconsciously moved to her own flat stomach, where she had violently ended her own pregnancy just days ago. The emptiness there felt like a wound that refused to close.Christian emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered, towel around his waist. His muscular body was still damp, water droplets tracing the defined lines of his abs and the sharp V that disappeared beneath the towel