Todos los capítulos de His Father's Claim.: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Richard told me on a Tuesday night, after he’d finished inside me and we were still lying in the dark with the sheets pushed down around our hips. “Friday,” he said. “Family dinner at the house. Time you were properly welcomed.” No question mark. No room to say no. His fingers kept tracing lazy circles on the inside of my thigh like the decision had already been made days ago. I stared at the ceiling and felt the familiar drop in my stomach. Family dinner. All of them. At the same table. The days in between stretched, or rather blurred. I changed clothes three times on Friday. Everything either felt too revealing or like I was trying too hard to look like I belonged. In the end I settled on a dark dress that hit just above the knee, simple enough for dinner, fitted enough that I still felt exposed. No stockings. I told myself it was because of the heat. It wasn’t. Richard sent a car. The driver didn’t speak. Didn't even glance at me. I watched the neighborhoods get larger

Richard stood in the doorway and looked at us for a long moment. And time stopped doing it's thing. Adrian was still buried inside me to the hilt, cock throbbing so hard I could feel every pulse against my walls. One more thrust and he would have come. My dress was shoved up around my waist, one breast still out, his hand locked on my hip hard enough to leave marks. Neither of us moved. The bright bathroom light made everything look worse: raw, obvious, impossible to explain away. Richard’s expression didn’t change much. He stepped fully inside, closed the door behind him with a quiet click, and reached for his belt. “Don’t stop on my account.” His words were calm. Almost conversational. He pulled the belt free, then undid the button and zipper of his trousers with the same unhurried precision he used in meetings. Adrian’s grip on my hip flexed. I felt him twitch inside me, still right on the edge, caught between the urge to finish and the fact that his father was now watchi

Richard noticed first. He had left her in the guest room after the conversation, certain the matter was settled. But when he walked past the door an hour later and found it open, the bed empty, and her bag gone, he simply stood there for a moment. No raised voice. No alarm. He checked the front entrance, then the side door that led toward the garage. Her shoes were missing. The night air was cool and quiet. He returned to the main hallway and spoke in a normal tone. “She’s gone.” Grant appeared at the top of the stairs first, still in the shirt he’d worn at dinner, sleeves rolled. Cole came from the opposite direction a few seconds later. Neither of them looked surprised for long. They had felt the shift in the house all evening. They knew something was coming - The argument between Richard and Adrian. The way Eve had looked when she left the study. Something had been coming. Richard gave them the only information that mattered. “She left on foot or called a car. Her

Eve arrived at the office the next morning with the same tight feeling in her chest she had carried out of Richard’s house. The executive floor already hummed with low conversation and keyboard noise. She kept her eyes forward and walked to her desk. Sloane was already there. She sat at the neighboring station with a coffee in one hand and a file open in front of her, looking like she had been settled for a while. When Eve pulled out her chair, Sloane glanced over and gave a small nod, nothing dramatic. “Morning.” Eve returned the nod and sat down. She expected the usual wall of polite distance that most people on the floor kept around her now. Instead Sloane slid a second coffee across the short space between their desks without comment. Eve looked at it, then at her. “You looked like you could use it,” Sloane said. “Floor’s been weird the last couple of days.” That was all. No probing. No fake concern. Eve wrapped her hands around the cup and felt some of the morning t

Eve stayed in the office another twenty minutes after Sloane left, staring at nothing. Grant’s hand still felt like it was on her thigh. Sloane’s admission sat in her head and refused to move. She wanted them. Or at least wanted the heat enough to say it out loud. She finally shut down her computer and took the elevator to the parking level. Cole was leaning against her car. He didn’t explain how he knew she was still upstairs. He just pushed off the vehicle when she got close and opened the passenger door of his own car without speaking. Eve looked at him for a second, then got in. Fighting it had stopped feeling useful days ago. Grant was already at the apartment they had used the night they brought her back from the diner. Same sparse, expensive place. Same low lighting. He opened the door like he had been waiting and stepped aside so she could walk in. Cole followed and locked it. No long conversation. Grant took her bag out of her hand and dropped it by the wall. Cole’s