All Chapters of Crave Me,Daddy's Good Girl: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Chapter 23: The USBThe penthouse was quiet except for the low hum of the city far below.Damien had stepped into his office to take an urgent call from his legal team about the escalating scandal. He’d kissed my forehead before leaving, telling me to rest. But rest was impossible.The small black USB drive Elena had left on the coffee table seemed to pulse with malevolent energy. It sat there like a dare. A warning. A loaded gun pointed straight at the fragile trust I had built with Damien.I stared at it for nearly twenty minutes, heart hammering.*Don’t do it,* one voice whispered. *You need to know,* another answered.In the end, curiosity — and fear — won.I picked up the drive with shaking fingers and slipped into the guest bedroom, closing the door softly behind me. I didn’t want Damien to catch me. Not yet.I plugged the USB into my laptop and held my breath as the folder opened.There wer

Chapter 25: The LieI couldn’t breathe.The hospital report glowed on my phone screen like evidence from a crime scene. Multiple pages. Official stamps. Doctor signatures. All confirming what I had suspected but never fully believed.Bianca Lang’s “heart condition” was fake.Completely fabricated for years.I read the final note again, my hands shaking so badly the screen blurred:**“Patient admits fabricating cardiac symptoms for emotional leverage and attention in personal relationships. No underlying condition found.”**All those times Alex had dropped everything to run to her. All the canceled dates. All the moments I had felt invisible because “Bianca might have an episode.” Every tear, every dramatic cough, every guilt trip — it was all a lie.And I had nearly drowned because of it.Rage, hot and blinding, surged through me. I grabbed my bag and headed for the door before I could talk myself

Chapter 28: PositiveThree pink lines stared back at me.I sat on the cold tile floor of Mia’s bathroom, surrounded by five different pregnancy tests — all positive. The cheap ones, the expensive digital ones, even the early detection strips. Every single one screamed the same truth.I was pregnant.My hands shook so violently I dropped the last test. It clattered on the floor beside the others, the word “Pregnant” glowing mockingly on the digital screen.“Oh God…” I whispered, pressing a hand to my mouth.The timing was a nightmare.I had been with Alex the night before the pool party — quick, unsatisfying sex that I’d regretted immediately. Then Damien… multiple times, raw, deep, claiming me over and over again after the gala. There was no way to know for sure whose baby this was.Tears blurred my vision. I hugged my knees to my chest, rocking slightly as panic crashed over me in waves.What if i

Chapter 29: The QuestionDamien’s hand never left my stomach.Even in sleep, his large palm stayed protectively spread across my lower belly, as if he could already shield the tiny life growing inside me. I lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling while his steady breathing warmed my neck.The pregnancy tests were still scattered on the nightstand like tiny white accusations. Positive. Positive. Positive.I should have felt joy. Or at least some version of it. Instead, I felt a crushing mixture of terror and guilt. What if this baby was Alex’s? What if I was bringing an innocent child into this toxic web of manipulation, obsession, and blood money?Damien stirred behind me. His arm tightened, pulling my back flush against his chest. His lips brushed the shell of my ear.“You’re thinking too loud, little one,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.I turned in his arms to face him. In the soft morning light filtering thr

Chapter 31:Only choice The penthouse was silent except for the low hum of the city far below. I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window, wrapped in Damien’s black silk robe, staring at the glittering lights of the metropolis that had once felt so far out of reach. Now it felt like a cage I never wanted to leave. Three weeks had passed since the pool party. Three weeks since Alex chose Bianca. Three weeks since Damien Voss pulled me from the water and claimed the first real breath I’d taken in years. My fingers traced the faint bruise on my collarbone — a mark he’d left last night when he reminded me exactly who I belonged to. Heat pooled low in my belly at the memory. I should have felt shame. I should have felt guilt. Instead, I felt *alive*. The soft click of the door made my pulse jump. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to. I could feel him the second he entered a room. That heavy, commanding presence that wrapped around me like smoke.