All Chapters of Sinful Whispers: A Collection of Forbidden Tales: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The first week without a job felt almost free. Mira slept in. She made coffee slowly. She told herself she would start looking for something new on Monday. By the second week the freedom had thinned out. She checked her bank account twice a day. The number kept getting smaller. Rent was a fixed, ugly weight at the end of the month. By the third week she was eating cheaper food and turning the heat down at night. She applied for jobs she didn’t want and heard nothing back. One afternoon she sat on the kitchen floor with her back against the cupboard and cried without making much sound. When she finished she wiped her face and opened her laptop again. On the thirtieth day she put on the same black trousers and blouse she used to wear to the office. She did her hair. She put on lipstick and then wiped most of it off. The mirror showed someone who looked composed if you didn’t look too long at the eyes. She took the bus to the old building. The receptionist glanced up and then looke

Rae pulled up outside Mira’s building at ten to two. The car was clean and quiet, the kind that still smelled faintly of new leather. Mira climbed in and shut the door harder than she meant to. She hadn’t slept much. Her stomach had been tight since morning. Rae glanced at her once, then pulled into traffic. “You can still change your mind,” she said. “I know.” They didn’t talk much on the drive. The city moved past the windows in ordinary pieces — shops, bus stops, people standing around with phones. Mira kept her hands in her lap and watched none of it properly. She kept thinking about the number in her bank account and the way Harlan had looked at her when he listed his conditions. The studio was in an industrial part of town, a low building with no sign on the front. Rae parked and led her through a side door. Inside it was warmer than Mira expected. The walls were plain. Somewhere further in she could hear voices and the low hum of equipment. A woman at a small desk

Lila’s POV The fight got ugly fast. One second Nate was laughing with his cousins by the grill, the next he was in my face about how I always looked bored at his family stuff. I told him maybe if he spent more than five minutes with me instead of performing for everyone, I wouldn’t look bored. It got loud. People glanced over and then pretended they hadn’t. His mom actually walked up and told us to take it somewhere else. I didn’t. I left. I was halfway down the driveway before I realized I didn’t have my bag or a ride. I’d come with Nate. Of course I had. “Lila.” I turned around. Cole was standing by the side gate with his keys already in his hand. He always looked a little removed at these things, like he was only half present. Five years older than Nate. Quieter. The brother people sometimes forgot to introduce. “I’ll drive you,” he said. I should’ve said no. Called a car. Walked even. Instead I just nodded and followed him to his truck. We didn’t talk for a while

I waited until the next evening to confront Nate. I spent the whole day staring at the screenshots Cole had sent. Messages. Names. Timestamps. Photos that made my stomach turn. By the time Nate texted asking if we could talk, I was already on my way to his place with my hands shaking around my phone. He opened the door looking hopeful. That almost made it worse. “Hey,” he said. “I was starting to think you were done with me.” I stepped inside and held up my phone. “Who’s Jenna?” His face changed. Not all at once. Just enough. “What are you talking about?” I scrolled through the screenshots and turned the screen toward him. He went still. For a second I thought he might deny it outright. Instead he dragged a hand down his face and let out a short, ugly laugh. “Cole gave you those, didn’t he.” “Does it matter?” “Yeah, it matters. My brother’s been sniffing around you for months. Of course he’d try to poison this.” Nate stepped closer. “Whatever he told you, he’s twisting it.

I stayed in the bathroom with my clothes clutched to my chest and my heart trying to beat out of my body. Nate’s voice carried through the apartment. “I know she’s here, Cole. Her car’s outside. Just be a man and say it.” Cole’s reply was quiet. “You need to leave.” “Or what?” Silence stretched. Then footsteps moved closer to the hallway. I pressed myself against the wall and closed my eyes. The bathroom still smelled like sex. My thighs were sticky. There was no version of this where Nate walked in and didn’t know. The footsteps stopped right outside the bathroom door. Then Cole’s voice came, harder than before. “Enough. You’re done looking through my place. Get out.” A short, ugly laugh from Nate. “You’re protecting her. Jesus Christ. You’re actually fucking her, aren’t you?” More silence. I couldn’t take it anymore. I pulled my shirt on, yanked my jeans up without bothering with underwear, and opened the door. Both of them turned. Nate’s face went through three differ