Home / Romance / Yours, Please #1 / Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

All Chapters of Yours, Please #1: Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

136 Chapters

121. Poison in the Steam

The steam in the bathroom had become a thick, opaque shroud, trapping the heat and the scent of wet skin and arousal. Michele’s fingers had just finished popping the first button of her shirt, his ocean-blue eyes locked onto Anny’s grey ones with a predatory intensity that made her knees tremble. The water continued to hammer down on them, a rhythmic drumming that drowned out the rest of the world, leaving only the two of them in this humid, white sanctuary of suspicion and lust. Michele didn’t wait for her to respond to his riddles. He finished shrugging off her shirt in one fluid motion, the fabric hitting the wet tiles with a soft thud. He stepped fully into the shower, the water soaking through his trousers, clinging to the powerful lines of his thighs. He crowded her against the cold marble wall, the contrast of the freezing stone against her back and his searing heat a

122. Torn Between Brothers

The silk sheets were tangled around Anny's legs when she woke, the morning light painting pale gold stripes across the bedroom floor. Her body ached in ways that were becoming familiar, the deep soreness between her thighs, the faint tenderness at her throat where Michele had gripped her, the lingering heat of his seed still damp against her skin. She should feel satisfied. Sated. But all she felt was the cold tendril of doubt that Michele had planted, wrapping around her heart like ivy strangling a tree. “Do you think Adriano sees you like this? Or does he just see a little doll to play with?” The words echoed in her mind, refusing to fade. She had thought she knew Adriano, his passion, his possessiveness, his love. But Michele had a way of making her question e

123. Torn Between Trust and Doubt

The library had gone quiet except for the sound of their breathing and the rain beginning to tap against the tall windows. Adriano's forehead rested against Anny's, his hands still cupping her face and for a long moment neither of them spoke. Then he pulled back and the tenderness in his expression hardened into something else. "You need to tell me what he said to you," he said quietly. "Not what you think I want to hear. What he actually said." Anny hesitated. The words were right there, burning on her tongue. ‘Do you think Adriano sees you like this, or does he just see a little doll to play with?’ But saying them out loud would mean admitting she'd been listening to Michele in the first place. It would mean admitting that Michele's poison had worked, even a little.

124. Write It All Down

The week leading up to Anny's birthday passed in a strange, suspended blur, like the days themselves were holding their breath, waiting for something to break. She watched them both. That was the only thing she was certain of anymore. She watched Adriano take his calls in the study with the door closed. She watched Michele leave for hours and return with the same hollow look he always wore. She watched the way the staff moved around both of them, careful and quiet, as if they too sensed that the mansion had become a stage for something they didn't understand. The only relief came in fragments. Detective Harris called twice more that week. Both times, the news was the same. The phone's purchase location had been narrowed to a cluster of shops within a three-mile radius

125. Reading the First Fantasy

The clock on the mantelpiece chimed midnight and Anny felt the shift in the room before either of them spoke. Adriano's arm tightened around her shoulders and Michele's hand stilled on her knee. The fire crackled, casting dancing shadows across the walls and outside the tall windows, the valley stretched into darkness, utterly silent and utterly private. "Happy birthday, darling," Adriano murmured, his lips brushing her temple. "Happy birthday, babygirl," Michele echoed, his voice a low, velvet rumble. Anny's heart swelled. She turned to look at each of them, her grey eyes glistening in the firelight. "Thanks a lot." Michele rose from the sofa and walked to the sideboard, where a small, elegant cake sat on a silver

126. Reading the Filthiest Fantasy

The aftermath of the first fantasy left Anny in a state of suspended animation. She lay sprawled across the silk sheets, her body a map of the brothers' possessiveness, bruised hips, swollen lips and the heavy, warm sensation of their combined seed leaking slowly from her pussy and ass. The room was silent, save for the ragged synchronization of their breathing. The amber light of the lamps seemed to pulse, mirroring the throbbing heat still radiating from her core. She felt utterly conquered, a broken doll put back together by the very hands that had dismantled her. Adriano remained draped over her, his heavy chest pressing her into the mattress, while Michele leaned against her side, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw with a predatory slowness. The air was thick with the scent of musk, sex and the lingering sweetness of

127. Someone Knew the Plan

The farmhouse had been a dream, a perfect, suspended moment of peace that Anny had clung to like a life raft. But dreams always ended and this one ended the moment the sun set on the second day and the convoy of black SUVs lined up on the gravel drive to take them home. The drive back to the mansion started under a clear sky, the kind of night that made the valley look like a painting, moonlight silvering the fields, the road a dark ribbon winding through the hills. Anny sat in the passenger seat, her birthday notebook tucked into her bag, the taste of the farmhouse's celebratory dinner still lingering on her tongue and her body still warm from the fantasies. They had spent the whole day at the farmhouse with breakfast on the terrace, a walk through the orchards, dinne

128. Who Knew the Plan?

The mansion had never felt so quiet. It was the kind of silence that pressed against the walls, that filled the lungs like water, that made every creak of the old house sound like a gunshot. Anny sat alone in the study, the fire long since burned down to ash, the phone still warm in her hand from the call to Detective Harris. He had promised to be there within the hour. That had been forty-five minutes ago. She hadn't moved. The clock on the mantel ticked. The rain had started again, soft and steady against the windows and somewhere in the east wing, a door opened and closed. She didn't know which brother it was. She didn't care. The gates opened. Headlights swept the courtyard. Harris stepped out of his car with two officers behind him, his face set in the grim lines of a m

129. Someone in Your Circle

The number stared back at her, unfamiliar and cold. Anny's thumb hovered over the message, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. The words burned into her mind, each syllable a fresh wound. "The birthday trip is the perfect opportunity. We can take her on the road. No witnesses. No escape. Make sure Adriano plans it." Someone had planned this. Someone had known about the farmhouse before Adriano had even announced it. And the message had been sent to her. She read it again. Then a third time. Her hands were shaking so badly she nearly dropped the phone. ‘Make sure Adriano plans it.’ The implication was clear. Whoever had sent this message wanted Adriano to be the one to arrange the trip. They w

130. Torn Between Truth and Lies

The silence that followed Harris's question stretched like a wire pulled too tight. Anny sat across from him in the dining room, her coffee cold and forgotten, her hands folded on the table to keep them from shaking. "Who?" she repeated. Harris didn't answer immediately. He reached into his folder and pulled out a single photograph, a grainy image pulled from a security camera. It showed a figure in a dark coat, hood up, moving toward a parked car in the dead of night. The same figure from the store footage. The same build. The same posture. "We ran the partial plate from the ridge. It matched a vehicle registered to a shell company. The same shell company that purchased the tracking device and the same shell company that the burner phone was messaging."

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