บททั้งหมดของ Late Night Deliveries: The After Hours: บทที่ 131 - บทที่ 140

Lena’s POVThe heavy duvet felt like it was pressing down on my chest with the weight of a lead anchor, trapping me in a stifling cycle of restless, fragmented sleep. Every time I drifted off, my mind dragged me back to the minimalist penthouse bedroom, the harsh morning light, and Richard’s calm, possessive smile.A sudden, sharp rapping at my front door cut through the silence of the apartment, making me jump violently against the mattress."Lena!" Cleo’s bright, chirpy voice called out from the hallway, followed by a familiar set of quick footsteps approaching my bedroom door. "Wake up, sleeper! You’ve got a delivery man at the door who looks like he’s about to burst out singing a love ballad. He's got something for you!"I groaned, pressing my palms hard against my throbbing temples. The headache from yesterday’s bourbon had mutated into a steady, industrial-grade drill pressing into the front of my skull."Cleo, I'm sleeping," I croaked out, my voice sounding thick and ruined. "J

Adrian’s POVStacks of documents, file reviews, and financial disclosures cluttered my desk, demanding attention I simply didn't have to give. Yet, despite the mountain of work piling up around me, my mind kept drifting away from the documents and back to Lena.She had sounded so hollow on the phone earlier that morning—drained, exhausted, and barely holding herself together after the grueling weeks we had poured into the group presentation. I couldn't blame her; the pressure had been immense, and the victory party at The Obsidian had clearly taken a heavy toll on her system. She needed rest, deep and undisturbed, to recover from the relentless pace we had been keeping.Pushing the paperwork aside, I rubbed the bridge of my nose, realizing I had forgotten one important loose end. In the whirlwind of preparation, submission, and celebration, they hadn't formally expressed their gratitude to Julian. He had quietly pulled strings behind the scenes, using his leverage within the firm and

Leo’s POVMy skin was still prickling with residual heat, and my chest rose and fell in uneven, shallow rhythms as I adjusted the collar of my shirt. Yet, the electric, post-coital haze that usually lingered after we locked ourselves away in this room was entirely absent, suffocated by the chilling words Julian had just hurled at Adrian like a grenade.I crossed the expansive, minimalist office, stopping a few feet away from the glass-and-steel desk where Julian was calmly buttoning his cuffs. The air between us felt dense, charged with a sudden, suffocating gravity."Julian," I started, my voice tight and guarded as I watched him adjust his silver cufflinks in the reflection of the window. "Are you out of your absolute mind?"Julian didn't flinch. He didn't even look up immediately. He smoothed down the sleeves of his crisp shirt before turning his head slowly to face me, his dark amber-brown eyes completely devoid of remorse."About what, Leo?" he asked smoothly, his tone maddeningl

Kendra’s POVI sat cross-legged with my laptop balanced on my knees. I was halfway through drafting a freelance summary for one of my writing contracts when the sharp, distinct chime of a text notification sliced through the quiet.I didn't think much of it. Assuming it was Lena checking in to see if I had survived the aftermath of our celebratory bourbon, I reached out without looking, snatched my phone off the cushion, and swiped to unlock the screen.The preview text popped up in the notification banner. My fingers froze dead on the keyboard.The name at the top of the chat thread wasn't Lena. It wasn't Leo. It was a contact I hadn't seen pop up on my screen in weeks—a name I had desperately hoped had been permanently purged from my life after the chaos of the campus leaks.Professor Reed.A cold, heavy knot formed instantly in my stomach. I opened the thread, my eyes scanning the carefully massaged, overly polite sentences of the message he had sent.“Hello, Kendra. I trust you’ve

Professor Reed’s POVFor ten solid seconds, I sat frozen behind my heavy desk, staring blankly at the polished wood as if the device itself had somehow betrayed me.She hung up on me again.Not only had she hung up—she had systematically dismantled every shred of authority I possessed, screaming down the line like an absolute radical, threatening me with ethics committees and public exposés over text messages that had merely expressed a professional desire to unwind.A hot, prickling wave of humiliation surged up from my collar, flushing my face a dull, mottled red.I stood up abruptly, knocking my ergonomic office chair back against the wall with a sharp thud, and began pacing the narrow perimeter of my office. My chest was tight, my breathing coming in shallow, jagged gasps. For months, I had operated with absolute impunity. In this department, I was a senior figure, a man whose favor students courted, whose signature unlocked doors, and whose protection was treated as a rare privil