Todos los capítulos de OFF LIMITS: Capítulo 31 - Capítulo 40

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE POV: Zara The family chatter in the living room faded into a distant hum as Zara stared at the glowing screen in her hand. The message burned there like a brand: They deleted the copies. But I have the originals. The true final recording where your mother begged me to stop you from Damon at any cost. Meet me at the lake dock at midnight. Alone. Or the world hears her last wish: that you never existed if it meant choosing him. Her stomach twisted violently. Damon’s hand tightened around hers, warm and steady, but she could feel the tremor in his fingers. The same fingers that had been inside her, claiming her, making her forget everything just hours ago in the truck and on the bedroom floor. His cum was still slowly leaking down her inner thighs, a slick, secret proof of every time she’d chosen the fire over safety. She squeezed back, needing his strength, his obsession, even as the weight of her mother’s dying wish threatened to crush her. “Zara?” Marcus’s voice

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE POV: Zara The faded envelope trembled in Zara’s hands like a live wire. Mum’s handwriting…. elegant even in sickness, spilled across the page, detailing debts, favors, and how Damon’s family had leaned on theirs for years. The words blurred through fresh tears as the wind off the lake whipped her hair across her face. Damon stood frozen beside her on the porch, his body radiating tension, the same powerful frame that had pinned her to counters, trees, and truck seats, filling her until she forgot her own name. But right now, that body felt like another lie. “Zara,” Damon said, voice rough and low, reaching for her. “It’s not what it sounds like. Let me explain.” She stepped back, the letter crumpling in her fist. Marcus watched from the doorway, arms crossed, his face a mask of exhausted betrayal. “Explain? You came to my house under false pretenses. You told me you were there for her, but Mum knew there was business shit involved. You used my sister as a bridg

CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE POV: Zara June arrived quietly. Not dramatically. Not with the weight she’d been expecting it to carry. Just Tuesday becoming Wednesday becoming the week of it and then the morning of it and then the car to Vauxhall with Daniel in the front and Damon beside her and Marcus behind them with his knee bouncing the way it bounced when he was managing something large and choosing not to say so. 14 weeks now. She’d started showing in May. Not dramatically, she was small and it was early but there. The specific change in the shape of her that she’d been watching in mirrors for three weeks with the particular mixture of terror and wonder that had become her permanent condition. She hadn’t told many people yet. After the verdict, she and Damon had said. After June. One thing at a time. Today was June. The courtroom was fuller than the preliminary hearing. Media in the gallery. That had started in March when the case became public. She’d been aware of it without ful

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVENPOV: ZaraIt started in the kitchen.It usually started in the kitchen.She didn’t know when that had become the pattern but it had, the kitchen being the room they were most often in together and the room where something about proximity and domestic ordinary life consistently became something else entirely. Something that had been building all day or all week and finally found its moment in the space between the counter and the stove.Thursday evening. His flat. 18 weeks now and showing properly, the specific roundness that had changed the shape of her and that she was still getting used to every time she caught herself in a mirror.She was making tea. He was behind her.She heard him come in from the other room.Felt him stop.The particular quality of his stillness when he was looking at her.She kept making the tea.“Damon,” she said.“Yeah.”“Stop looking at me like that.”“Like what.”“Like you’re about to—”His hands on her hips. Both of them. Warm and cert

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE POV: Damon27 weeks. That was the first thought. 27 weeks was too early. The due date was November, they were in September, still September, and the look on her face when she came into the kitchen was the look of someone doing the mathematics of too soon and not saying it out loud because saying it out loud made it real. He was already reaching for his phone. “How long,” he said. “I don’t know. A while.” She was holding the counter. Not dramatically. Just using it. “I didn’t want to wake you.” “Zara.” He crossed the kitchen. Took her face in his hands. Looked at her. “How long.” “Since about three,” she said. He looked at her. “It’s 6 now,” he said. “I know.” “You’ve been—” “I thought they’d stop,” she said. “They didn’t stop.” He already had his phone out. The hospital number saved because Daniel had told him to save it and Daniel was always right about preparation. He called. Spoke to someone. Gave the information clearly while keeping one hand on Za