All Chapters of HIS CURVY OBSESSION : ABDSM CONTRACT : Chapter 271 - Chapter 280

To say I am not happy is an understatement. This is exactly what I wanted to happen, what I planned to happen, but instead of joy, I feel like I'm bring struck. As she said, I truly orchestrated their meeting. I knew Eleanor knowing Roland is sleeping with Catherine or anyone that's older than him, especially for money would get him too ashamed to face Eleanor or talk shit about me, so I intentionally invited Catherine to this luncheon and even told her to bring a partner. Now that it has happened as planned, I wish I had never started it.I could have gone further. I could have pushed Roland harder, made him understand exactly what happens when he sticks his nose where it doesn't belong. But I didn't want to go further. I knew going further is a risk to hurting Eliana, and somehow, that's exactly what I've done anyway.I look at her. She's sitting beside me, arms folded tightly across her chest, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond the window. The lights outside sweep across her face eve

BANKS POV "I don't care how busy you are, I am certainly paying you way more than any other client you have." As usual, my impatience doesn't anger her. I only hear the quiet rustle of papers over the line while I look toward the dining room. Eleanor is sitting right there. She hasn't taken a single bite. Not one. A wall and a heavy door separate the kitchen from the dining room, so I can't see her full facial expression, but I can feel the heavy, icy distance radiating off her. "I must have failed terribly as your therapist if you still haven't realized that money and respect are not synonymous, Mr Wellington" my shrink replies calmly. I take a deep breath. "She avoided me. My woman came out of her room, saw me in the kitchen, but walked straight past to the dining room instead of coming to me." "Maybe she's hungry." "She's not eating." "Okay. Considering everything you pulled over the last forty-eight hours, it is entirely understandable for her to feel unseen and dism

The silence in the penthouse suite feels less like peace and more like a penal sentence. Waking up to empty sheets where Eleanor’s warmth should be is a punishment severe enough to hollow out my entire day—which is precisely why I am headed to the office. A place where I can bury myself alive.Buying her something exorbitant won’t magically stitch together the fractures between us. I know that. But as my mind races over the wreckage of our last confrontation, a singular memory slices through the static: Her list. Her request and tasks I left unfinished in my arrogant blindness. It won’t cost me anything my empire can't absorb. And if it devours time, I will bend time to my will.I pull my Aston Martin into the subterranean executive lot, already mapping out the things needed to correct my mistakes. The moment my private elevator dings on the top floor, my personal assistant intercepts me, a tablet clutched against her tailored blazer. I don't break stride."Hold all non-critical brief

The cold morning air hits my skin as I remain seated in the front doorway of my apartment, staring at the man on my porch. My fingers tightens, my pulse thudding a slow, heavy rhythm in my ears. "Roland? How did..." My voice trails off, hollowed out by the sheer impossibility of his presence. "Zara gave me your address," he replies quietly. His voice lacks its usual light, effortless rhythm. It feels strange, deeply unsettling to see him look so utterly defeated. His posture that usually radiates relaxed confidence is slumped, his shoulders bowed as if carrying an invisible weight. "You can come in" He gulps, his eyes darting frantically across the floorboards, the doorway, the empty street—looking everywhere except at my face. "How are you?" I question, the words slipping out automatically despite the storm brewing in my chest..He swallows again, his throat bobbing hard. "I'm sorry." "What?" The sudden, unprompted apology catches me completely off-guard. I freeze, unable to do a

Anthony POV Let’s establish one undeniable truth before we proceed: I am an absolute, unadulterated genius. Add my sharp, lethal intellect to the fact that my physical aesthetics belong in a museum, and it becomes painfully obvious that I am a rare gem. Banks Wellington—a man whose social emotional intelligence usually mirrors a constipated block of granite, quite literally cannot survive without me.If he survives anything because of his brain, prestige and tenacity, he can't survive his love life, quote me on that. Wondering how then he got a love that eventually led to life? That will be a case study for another year. Case in point: three days of Eleanor demanding space had turned my beloved billionaire friend into a brooding, atmospheric nightmare. He was ready to buy a two-hundred-foot superyacht and drop a five-story commercial retail tower on her head just to force an apology. I stopped him. Why? Because while Eleanor appreciates high-end luxury, she values genuine, unscrip