All Chapters of Crave Me,Daddy's Good Girl: Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

chapter 130The medical suite had transformed into a high-stakes war room wrapped in sterile white.I was thirty-four weeks pregnant with our third daughter and sixteen weeks with our fourth. My body no longer felt like mine. It was a battlefield — skin stretched drum-tight over two growing lives, veins mapped in purple under translucent skin, constant low-grade contractions that kept the monitors screaming every few hours. The magnesium drip made me feel like I was underwater. My vision blurred at the edges. Every breath required effort.Damien had not slept in forty-eight hours.He sat in the reinforced recliner beside my bed like a king guarding his greatest treasure, laptop open on one thigh, phone in hand, issuing rapid-fire orders. His hair was disheveled, jaw shadowed with stubble, but his gray eyes burned with unrelenting fire. The files Lilith had given us were spread across the side table — weapons we were finally ready to use.“Stock is dropping another four percent,” Kane

**Chapter 133: The Letter** I sat on the wide window seat in the nursery, the late afternoon light spilling across the pale oak floors like spilled cream. One hand rested on the swell of my belly—our third child, already so active it felt like a tiny warrior training inside me—while the other held the thick cream envelope. Elena’s handwriting was elegant even in death, the loops precise and unyielding, just like the woman herself had been. Damien stood by the door, watching me. He leaned against the frame in that way of his, arms crossed, the faint pull of his healing scar visible beneath the open collar of his black shirt. House arrest monitors still blinked quietly on his ankle, but the man inside the cage had never been more free. Or more mine. “You don’t have to read it today, little girl,” he said, voice low. “It can wait.” I shook my head. “She’s gone, Damien. If I don’t do this now, her words will haunt me longer than she ever could.” He crossed the room in three strid

**Chapter 135: Freedom**The penthouse felt different the next morning.Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, brighter somehow, as if the city itself had decided to celebrate. No ankle monitor. No restrictions on movement. No hovering threat of prison bars waiting to snatch Damien back. He was officially free.I stood in the kitchen with Sera nestled against my chest in a soft wrap, watching him move. He wore a crisp black button-down with the sleeves rolled up, exposing those powerful forearms, and tailored charcoal trousers. No more house-arrest casual. This was Damien Voss fully unleashed.He crossed the room in that predatory stride I loved and hated in equal measure, sliding his arms around me from behind. One hand cupped the underside of my breast, the other resting possessively over my still-soft belly.“Morning, little girl,” he murmured, lips brushing my neck. “How do you feel?”“Sore. Happy. Terrified it’s not real.” I leaned back into him, inhaling the scent

**Chapter 137: Co-Parenting with the Past**Damien’s study still smelled faintly of smoke and burnt secrets. I tightened the silk robe around my body, heart hammering as his words echoed.“Stay here, little girl. Daddy will handle this.”But I couldn’t. Not this time.I followed him down the hallway, bare feet silent on the marble. My body protested—three days postpartum, breasts heavy and leaking, core still tender from Sera’s birth—but adrenaline pushed me forward. Alex was here. The man who had let me drown. The man whose father now owned every shattered piece of me.Victor Kane met us at the private elevator. “He’s in the ground-floor reception. Security is holding him. He’s… emotional. And drunk.”Damien’s jaw tightened. “Keep the twins and Sera upstairs with the nanny. Isla, go back to bed.”“No.” I slipped my hand into his, squeezing. “This involves me too. They’re my children as well.”His eyes flashed with that familiar possessive storm, but he nodded once. “You stay behind m

**Chapter 139: Fractured Visits** The third supervised visit with Alex was supposed to be routine. Instead, it cracked something open we couldn’t easily close. I stood in the sunlit playroom wearing a soft lavender lounge dress, Sera asleep in the bassinet beside me. Luca and Liora were building a towering block castle with Alex on the thick carpet. Damien sat in the corner armchair like a king on his throne—legs spread, one ankle resting on his knee, fingers steepled under his chin. His presence filled the entire room without him saying a word. Alex looked better than last time. Clear eyes, fresh haircut, designer shirt that reminded me too much of the old days. He laughed when Luca smashed the tower on purpose, the sound almost genuine. But every few minutes his gaze drifted to me, heavy with memories and resentment. “Daddy, look!” Liora held up a bright red block for Alex. The word “Daddy” still made my stomach twist. Damien’s jaw flexed, but his expression remained unread