บททั้งหมดของ Her Dark Obsessions:Claimed By The Plus-Size Ruthless Harem: บทที่ 11 - บทที่ 20

**Chapter 11: Public Echoes**The memorial service was held in a sleek, modern chapel attached to one of the city’s most prestigious country clubs. Sora stood before the large portrait of Melvin, dressed in a fitted black dress that accentuated her full figure rather than hiding it. The fabric hugged her generous breasts, wide hips, and soft belly with quiet elegance. For the first time in years, she hadn’t chosen something shapeless to disappear in.Jack stood beside her like a dark guardian, tall and imposing in his tailored suit. His hand rested possessively at the small of her back.“You don’t have to do this,” he had told her in the car.“I do,” she’d replied. “I need closure.”Now, as people offered stiff condolences, the whispers began.“…poor thing. He was always so handsome. Wonder what she did to make him want a divorce…”“…clearly let herself go. No wonder he was looking elsewhere…”Sora’s fingers tightened around the program in her hands. Old shame tried to rise, but somet

**Chapter 13: What Victor Wants** The study Victor Harrison kept at the back of the mansion had always intimidated George as a boy — dark mahogany shelves stretching to the ceiling, a desk large enough to seat six, portraits of Harrison patriarchs going back three generations glowering down from the walls. He hadn't been summoned here in years. He wheeled through the double doors with a steadiness he didn't entirely feel. Victor didn't look up from the papers on his desk. "Close the door." George did, the heavy oak swinging shut with a soft, final click. "You wanted to see me." "Sit." Victor gestured to the chair across from him, then seemed to catch himself, jaw tightening at the unnecessary instruction. George rolled to the space where the chair would have been anyway and said nothing about it. For a long moment, his father simply studied him — the way he always had, like George was a line item that refused to balance. "The Robbins woman is still in this house." "Her name is So

**Chapter 15: Melvin's Fragments**The physical therapy room at Mercy General smelled perpetually of rubbing alcohol and the particular sterile optimism of a place designed to convince broken bodies they could be whole again. Melvin sat on the edge of the parallel bars, sweat cooling on the back of his neck after twenty minutes of exercises that left his legs trembling in a way they never had before the accident, and stared at nothing in particular while his mind kept snagging on a face that didn't belong to the present.It had started three days ago. A flash, there and gone before he could hold it — a hotel room he didn't recognize, low lamplight, a woman's laugh he knew intimately without being able to place. He'd assumed it was some fragment of the coma, the kind of meaningless neural static Dr. Patel had warned him to expect during recovery. But it kept coming back, sharper each time, and last night it had resolved into something unmistakable.Cassie.

**Chapter 17: Two Kinds of Safety**Morning came slow and golden through the sunroom windows, the kind of light that made even the mundane feel gentle. Sora woke to the smell of coffee and the quiet rustle of George moving around the small kitchenette attached to his private wing of the mansion — a space he'd had renovated years ago, low counters and wide clearances built around the practical reality of his chair, functional in a way that had nothing to do with the grandeur of the rest of the house and everything to do with him simply being able to move through his own life without asking for help.She found him at the counter, sleeves rolled to his elbows, carefully plating something that smelled like the particular buttery sweetness of French toast."You're cooking," she said, leaning in the doorway, still in the oversized t-shirt she'd borrowed from his dresser the night before."I'm attempting to cook," George corrected, glancing up with a sma

**Chapter 19: Discharge**The assessment came back clean.Dr. Patel delivered the news on a bright Tuesday morning with the particular brisk satisfaction of a physician closing out a difficult case — cognitive function fully recovered, motor skills steadily improving, no lingering deficits that would require ongoing supervised care. "You've made a remarkable recovery, Mr. Robbins," he said, flipping through the chart. "Given the severity of the initial trauma, I'll admit I didn't expect to be having this conversation quite this soon. We can discuss formal discharge for the end of the week, contingent on a final physical therapy evaluation with Grace."Melvin sat very still on the edge of the exam table, feeling something loosen in his chest that had been wound tight for weeks — not relief exactly, not yet. Something more like the first breath before a plunge. "The end of the week," he repeated."Assuming everything holds steady, yes." Dr. Patel ma