Debby Khimberly 的作品

Nella’s POVMaybe if Elena had been the one to bring his child into the world, he would have burned the city down to see her.The thought arrived quietly and landed like a stone in still water.I felt the rings spreading.I was not Elena. I had never been Elena. I was the replacement that wasn't a replacement, the collateral that had somehow become the mother of his child.Quiet sobs slipped out of me before I could stop them.I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth.I was so tired. So deeply, completely tired —not just from the labor, though that was a tiredness unlike anything I had experienced before, a tiredness that lived in the bones rather than the muscles —but from everything that had preceded it. It's been months of grief, suspicion, careful watchfulness, it's been learning to read silences and file things away, holding myself together with the specific discipline of a woman who had decided that falling apart was not an option she could afford.Tonight I was too exhausted

Nella’s POVThe baby had finally opened her eyes.I had been waiting for it without knowing I was waiting for her to open them, through the feeds, the quiet, long, strange hours of hospital night and when it happened it was so sudden and so complete that I simply stopped breathing for a moment.Golden-brown. Exactly like his. An adorable replica.Just like the saying that goes: blood is thicker than water and genes are the strongest you'd find in humans.Her eyes are the vague, unfocused blue that newborns sometimes arrive with, it wasn't that indeterminate colour that resolved into something else over weeks. Hers were already decided — warm, deep and sharp, carrying that particular cub-like intensity in miniature, in a face so small I could cup it entirely in one hand. She looked up at me with the specific gravity of someone who had arrived somewhere important and was already taking inventory.My heart made a sound I did not have a name for.I pressed my lips together and held her t

Rico’s POVNella was the variable I had not fully accounted for.I had known about her for years: pretty little Vito’s daughter, the pampered artist, the girl who was kept so carefully behind the walls of her father’s world that she had never developed the sharp instincts that world demanded.From a distance, she had seemed entirely manageable. A soft pawn. Useful collateral.But I had been watching her more closely since she moved into Giovanni’s villa. Since she began painting again. Since Antonio quietly reported to Lucas that she was asking questions and filing away the answers instead of acting on them immediately.That last detail had given me my first genuine pause.Most people, when they stumbled across something they did not understand, reacted too quickly. Fear made them reckless. Curiosity made them careless. They confronted, accused, and exposed themselves.Nella had done neither.She had observed.And that made her dangerous.The paintings had been useful, almost poetic i

Rico’s POVThe message arrived at 2:47 a.m. I was always awake at 2:47 a.m. An honest saying goes; Dangerous men don’t sleep.” Sleep, for me, had always been a negotiation rather than a surrender, it was something I permitted myself in controlled intervals rather than something that happened. Men in my position could not afford the vulnerability of deep sleep. The world did not pause its arrangements out of courtesy.I was sitting at my desk in the dark when the phone lit up. No overhead light — I had always preferred to work by the glow of screens and the city outside the window. Darkness kept the mind sharp. It removed the clutter of visible things and left only what mattered.I picked up the phone.Three words from a number that would dissolve within the hour.“The time is coming.”I read it once. I set the phone down. I looked out at the city for a long moment, its lights, its indifferent enormousness, its complete unawareness of the mechanisms operating within it.Then I picked

Brenda’s POVDevastating in its simplicity.I had not hated Nella when I wrote it. That was the complicated part — the part I did not discuss with Lucas, who would not have understood it, or with Rico, who would have found it irrelevant. I had not hated her. I had watched her grow up in this house, had packed her school lunches and soothed her nightmares and I had known the exact pitch of her cry before she could speak. There was something real in that. Something that existed alongside everything else, it was inconvenient and persistent.But Nella was her father's daughter in every way that mattered. She had his face, his stubbornness, his absolute certainty that the world owed him just like she thinks the world owes her something. She had grown up inside the proof of everything I had been denied. Every time I looked at her I saw the life that had continued around me as though I were furniture. As though I were part of the walls.But now, I was not part of the walls.I had decided

Brenda’s POV"Any news?" I sucked my teeth."She just put to bed." The voice from the phone came slowly, cautiously like the voice of someone trying to manage my temper from a safe distance.I hung up without responding.Of course, I wouldn't be angry that she gave birth. Why would I be? A baby changed nothing about what was coming. If anything, it complicated things for them — another vulnerability, another thing to protect, another reason to be distracted.I set the phone down on the kitchen counter of Vito's mansion and looked around the room.My room. My kitchen. My mansion.Almost.I called Lucas."The Don has an heiress," I said, cutting him off before he could open with any pleasantries. I was not in the mood to be called *mi amor* tonight.Silence.Good. He was paying attention."My source also confirmed that Giovanni is battling an undiagnosed health condition." I kept my voice even, and factual, the way I had learned to deliver information to men who needed it clean and simp

She shook her head slightly, trying to get rid of the image of Julian’s biceps. Her brain did a quick, silly imagination: he is on top of you, flexing those arms on your body.Serena stopped abruptly, trying not to lose control.“You can go on, I need to use the restroom,” Serena announced, excusing herself. Not because she was pressed, but because she had started to blush uncontrollably, and her brain was doing her dirty by replaying what she had just seen. She got into the restroom and closed the door slowly, pressing her back against it. This isn’t even supposed to be sexual. What is wrong with me? She looked blankly into the mirror. “I can’t believe he almost made me wet by just flexing those arms,” she tried to deny the signals her body was giving because of him.She slipped her fingers underneath her skirt, reaching for her pussy. She gasped. “Uugghh”Subconsciously, she covered her mouth with her free hand. “Serena, you are dripping!” She whispered like she was reprimanding

The words hit like a slap. Serena’s eyes flashed with fury, but she forced herself to stay composed.“Fine,” she said coldly. “Let’s talk venues. I want the Grand Ballroom at The Sterling. It’s the largest and most prestigious hall in the city. It’s big enough to accommodate five hundred guests, perfect acoustics, and the kind of elegance my wedding deserves.”Julian raised an eyebrow. “The Sterling is a glorified conference center with overpriced chandeliers. It has no soul. No romance. For someone who claims to want a once-in-a-lifetime wedding, you’re thinking very… safely.”Serena crossed her arms. “And what would you suggest, Mr. Visionary?”“Outdoor,” he replied without hesitation. “The Evergreen Estate at sunset. You get an open sky, natural light, and gardens that actually feel alive. It’s intimate, breathtaking, and far more memorable than some stuffy ballroom.”Serena laughed bitterly. “Outdoor? In this city? With the weather being completely unpredictable? You want me to ri

STORY 9. I swear, if one more person suggests pastel pink for my wedding, I’m going to scream.”Serena Vale sat cross-legged on her cream-colored sofa, scrolling through yet another Pinterest board with growing irritation. Her best friend, Lila, lounged opposite her with a glass of rosé, looking far too amused.“You’re being dramatic,” Lila said. “You’ve rejected every planner I’ve recommended. At this rate, you’ll be walking down the aisle in sweatpants.”Serena shot her a glare. “I am not being dramatic. This is my wedding. It has to be perfect. Flawless. The kind of wedding people talk about for years.”Lila raised an eyebrow. “And what does Richard think about all this perfectionism?”“He thinks whatever I tell him to think,” Serena replied smoothly. “He’s busy with the merger, and he trusts me to handle everything well.Doesn’t it suck enough that this is an arranged marriage? I’m not getting married to Richard because I love him or because I’m sexually attracted to him. My Dad

Isabella’s POV I drove back to my apartment. I’m sure Catherine was still getting ready; she did everything at her own pace, and Mum never saw anything wrong in it.As a 27-year-old model who had built her own successful career, I had long since moved out of Mum’s house, leaving her favorite daughter with her.Tonight, even if we’ll be cheering for a successful marriage, I’m glad I’ve got a toy that drips for me.At Mr Jude’s mansion, I stepped in with a strange mix of excitement and nerves twisting in my stomach. Jack’s father was one of the influential men in the city; he’s in his late fifties, but he looks more like a hot sugar daddy.A nice physique, a toned body, a calm face, and, most importantly, assets…The mansion was breathtaking: it was a sprawling three-story estate with marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and walls adorned with expensive artwork. The dining hall alone could seat forty people comfortably. Long tables were covered with an extravagant spread: roasted rose

Isabella’s POVI quietly closed the door and walked toward the sound of his voice. Jack was standing by the large floor-to-ceiling window, one hand in his pocket, looking every bit the successful, charming fiancé. I made a small sound that made him turn slightly, when he saw me, his eyes widened in pure shock.Isabella?!” he hissed under his breath, covering the phone slightly. “What the fuck are you doing here?”I didn’t answer. I simply smiled sweetly and walked past him, heading straight for his bedroom like I owned the place. I could feel his glare burning into my back.“Catherine, hold on, the delivery guy is at the door,” he lied smoothly, voice strained. “I’ll call you right back, okay? Love you.”He hung up quickly and stormed after me into the bedroom.“Are you insane?!” he whisper-yelled, closing the door behind him. “Catherine could have heard you! What if she decides to come over?”“She’s getting ready for dinner, but she might feel bored very soon.”I made him more agita

Isabella’s POV “Oh fuck! Jack. Go deeper, Jaaaackk! Oh….yes, just like that, Daddy.” When I finally came, it was explosive, my pussy gushed around the dildo, my thighs shook uncontrollably while my loud cries echoed through the room as Jack watched helplessly, wrists pulling desperately against the handcuffs. He glared at me, but he couldn’t lay a finger on me. I collapsed back on the bed, breathing hard, and a satisfied smile found my lips as I looked at his aching, leaking cock. “Welcome to day one, pup.” I stayed on the bed for a moment longer, catching my breath, my body still tingling from the intense orgasm. After I broke up with George, my toys had been my best friends and I don’t intend to drop them now that I have found a new pup. Jack was still handcuffed to the chair, his thick cock standing painfully hard, the head dark red and leaking a steady stream of pre-cum down his shaft. His sharp jaws clenched hard, his grey eyes burning with frustration and desperate need