All Chapters of Billionaire Daddy and Son’s Nun Maid: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

IRIS The pressure of Liam’s teeth sinking into the soft flesh of my inner thigh left a distinct, dark brand.I gasped out loud, my fingers instantly tangling in his thick hair as my head thrashed against the flat pillow. The bite wasn't cruel or painful, but it was deep, arousing, and burning hot against my tender skin.Just an hour ago, I had drifted off to sleep wrapped in the warm circle of his arms on my narrow bed, my head resting against his bare chest while the quiet room kept us hidden from the world. I had woken up to the softest, sweetest sensation—his lips gently trailing over my eyelids, kissing the tip of my nose, and whispering sweet, flirty words against my forehead."Wake up, little nurse," Liam had whispered into my ear, his voice soft and thick with sleep. "I have to leave soon before the sun comes up, but I can't bring myself to let you go just yet."That sweet wake-up call had quickly dissolved into a slow, intoxicating exercise. Now, I was undone again, lying on

IRIS Agatha held the engraved 'L.H.' silver link up to the light, her eyes narrowing as I approached the counter.The metal caught the cold fluorescent beam of the kitchen light, throwing a tiny, sharp reflection across the stainless-steel counter. My tongue suddenly felt heavy in my mouth. My heart was beating very fast like it wanted out, but I forced my legs to keep moving, stepping forward into the kitchen as if my knees weren't about to buckle beneath me."Good morning, Agatha," I said smoothly, forcing my voice into a steady, flat tone. I grabbed a clean dishtowel from the rack and stepped up to the sink, reaching for a stack of coffee mugs left over from the night before. I had to keep my hands moving. If I stopped working for even one second, she would see the uncontrollable shaking in my fingers.Agatha didn't return the greeting. She stood her ground by the coffee station, her glaring gaze tracking my every movement as I turned on the tap and let the warm water run over my

ELII stopped dead in my tracks at the end of the grand corridor. The heavy stack of business ledgers tucked beneath my arm suddenly felt way much heavier than they were, but my grip on them tightened until my knuckles turned stark white.My eyes locked onto Iris standing right on the threshold of my son's private room.It was barely past sunrise. She was in her blue servant uniform, her hair pinned back, looking small and fragile in the morning light—yet she was standing less than an inch away from Liam. He had his hand wrapped firmly around her wrist. His silk robe was loose across his chest, his hair tousled, and he was leaning down toward her with a look I had never seen on his face before.A dark, violent surge of heat slammed straight into my chest, hot and uninvited.I had spent my entire life controlling everything around me—my company, my estate, my family, my own emotions. I was a man of logic, a man who never let personal desire cloud his judgment. But looking at her standi

IRIS The door handle turned, and the doors pushed open without a single knock.Liam stood in the threshold. His eyes dropped instantly to his father's broad, calloused hand still heavily cupping my bare breast, my blue uniform unbuttoned to reveal my thin cotton bra. My head was tilted back against Eli's shoulder, my chest heaving in tiny gasps as the lingering heat of his rough touch burned across my skin.A chilling, eerie stillness filled the room.I gasped, my hands flying up to pull the edges of my open shirt together, every drop of blood draining from my face. I tried to twist away from the desk, but Eli didn't move. His hand remained firmly pressed over my tits for one long, deliberate second, his storm-grey eyes meeting his son's blue ones across the expanse of the dark study without a single hint of surprise or guilt.Liam didn't shout. He didn't rush forward or throw a punch.Instead, a slow, fascinated smile spread across his handsome face. He stepped fully into the study,

IRIS The expensive, linen texture of the letter resting between my trembling fingers felt like an impossible piece of a fairy tale.I slipped quietly into the dim privacy of my small servant’s quarters, locking the wooden door behind me with a faint click. My heart was thumping wildly against my ribs, a nervous beat that made my breath come in short, shallow gasps. I looked down at the blood-red wax seal pressed into the back flap of the envelope. A coiled viper wrapped around a crown. It looked grand, luxurious, and completely out of place against the faded, threadbare fabric of my bedsheet.Carefully, using the sharp tip of my small pocket knife, I sliced through the thick wax and unfolded the soft cream paper.The handwriting inside was unmistakably Joseph’s. The round, neat loops of my younger brother’s penmanship filled the page, but the spirit behind the words was transformed. The sad, hopeless tone that usually soaked through his letters from the damp, freezing walls of Saint