All Chapters of FORBIDDEN: HIS PLUS SIZE OBSESSION : Chapter 801 - Chapter 810

LENA'S POVAfter all my efforts to lighten his mood—the silly jokes, the playful nudges, the way I danced around the kitchen while I serve his food just to see the corner of his mouth twitch.Tarzan still looked like he was slowly wilting right in front of me. It was as if someone had pulled the plug on his life force, draining him of every ounce of color and vitality. His skin had gone pale, and those eyes—those beautiful eyes that usually held the warmth suddenly looked hollow, distant, like he was already a ghost sitting in front of me..I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, the silence between us had grown thicker by the second, suffocating me with its weight. I knew this sudden mood had something to do with Damon's unexpected visit. But what exactly did they discuss that could drain the life out of the strongest man I knew?"Babe?" I called softly."Hmmm?" he responded, and honestly, I couldn't remember the last time he answered me without lifting his eyes to meet mine.His g

"What… are you saying? What… what have I done wrong?!" I cried, my body shaking uncontrollably now. "I'm so confused, Tarzan. I have no idea what you're talking about. Every single word you just said—it's like I'm trapped in some nightmare I can't wake up from. Please don't hurt yourself, Tarzan, please…" The phone kept ringing, an unending warning siren that felt more ominous with every shrill peal. Tarzan's hands slowly fell from my cheeks, leaving cold emptiness in their wake. "Let's hear from your father, then," he said quietly. "Maybe that will explain everything, since you're so confused." I nodded aggressively, desperate for answers, for clarity—for anything that would make sense of this madness. My hands trembled violently as I reached for the phone, my fingers barely able to grip it. I wiped the snot from my nose with the back of my hand and swiped to answer. "Hi, Da… Dad…" I tried to force my voice to remain steady and natural, but it was useless. "Lena, are you

Punishment?My anger melted away, replaced by an ache so deep it felt unbearable.Slowly, I walked toward him. He still didn't move—just stood there, as though he believed he didn't deserve for me to come any closer.When I finally reached him, I stopped only inches away. I reached up and cupped his face with both hands.He flinched, almost as if he expected me to slap him.Instead, I gently wiped away his tears with my thumbs."I've never stopped loving you," I whispered. "Not for one second. Mitch is my past. You are my future. How many times do you want me to say it? I choose you—and I will not hesitate to choose you over everything else. That's how much I love you, Tarzan."My voice wavered, but I pushed on."You think I stalked you, accepted to be your manager, and stayed by your side because I wanted to kill you? If that were the case, I would have smiled at your unconscious body and left you to die. But I didn't. Because I can't imagine a life without you, Tarzan. I will always

I tore my mouth from his with a gasp, palms flattening against the solid wall of his chest. “Wait—” The word came out breathless, threaded with something that sounded nothing like stop. “Wait, Tarza—” He chased my lips, eyes still heavy-lidded, pupils blown so wide I could barely glimpse the ring of color around them. “Don’t,” he rasped, dropping his forehead to mine. “Don’t say wait. Not now. Please. I need you.” “Your schedule—” I tried, but his mouth found my jaw, my neck, the hollow of my throat—and the rest of my sentence dissolved into a shaky moan. “You have a—fuck—a show in an hour, remember? The evening show.” “I don’t care.” His teeth grazed my pulse point, and I felt the jolt everywhere. “Cancel it.” “I can’t cancel it—you idiot—I’m your manager, and I think I need to be stricter with you.” He laughed against my skin as his hands slid from my ass up my sides, then slowly up to my bust. I gasped again as he fondled me possessively. “Then manage me right now. Tell me

"No, no...I don't. What do you mean by unless you are down...you are not getting shot right?" He looked at me one last time for a long moment, like he was memorizing my face—and then smiled softly. "Ofcourse not...I can't afford to miss seeing your face every single day. Now, let's go see who's here." We quietly descended the stairs together, guns in our hands. My heart pounded like a wild bird. I am actually holding a gun! Unfortunately, whoever was at that door refused to leave. He raised a hand, signaling for me to stay a few feet behind him. I did just as he instructed. Holding my breath, I watched him move toward the front door. Slowly... He leaned toward the peephole and looked outside. "Tarzan?" I whispered. "Who is it?" He pulled back from the peephole, and the expression on his face made my blood freeze. "It's Scar," he whispered back. "Who is Scar?" I asked. He walked back to me. "I think he's a group director under Damon. You stay here. I'll go ask