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Cierra's POV
“Mom, you have to be kidding me…” I stood in the middle of my bedroom, staring down at my phone like it had personally betrayed me. Mom was on FaceTime, newly applied bridal makeup still perfect despite the chaos she was dealing with in court. “I am not kidding. It’s just for an hour,” she insisted, voice too calm for the madness she was asking for. I scoffed. “What if George comes in?” “George doesn’t need to know,” she said. “Cierra, can’t you do one tiny thing for your mother?” “It’s not tiny,” I muttered. “He’s going to know.” “There’s no way he will. We both work out, same body shape…” she waved her hand casually. “My boobs are fuller,” I cut in. She laughed. “That is why I love you, my baby.” “Mom, don’t fucking try to bribe me with love.” “Oh, I wasn’t talking about love,” she said, smirking. “I was going to bribe you with something better.” I narrowed my eyes. “Get the vibrator after your court case.” “Cierra Monroe! What the hell?” “That’s the only bribe my soul recognizes.” We both burst into laughter, the kind that made my chest tighten from the knowledge that none of this was actually funny. “Thank you so much, sweetie,” she said genuinely. “Thank goodness veil removal is optional. He’ll just see the… mini you,” I teased. She snorted. “Exactly. The perfect decoy bride.” I sobered and looked at her carefully. “Mom… you will win this case, right?” She hesitated for half a second... too long. “I always win. Trust your mother.” “I do. But why would they withhold your flight ticket if the situation isn’t serious?” She sighed. “Well, your mom is a...” My doorbell rang loudly, cutting her off. “Duty calls,” I said with a groan. “Sure,” she said. “But remember...” “I know, I know. A secret between a mother and daughter stays between a mother and daughter.” “That’s my girl.” She blew a kiss and the call cut. I dropped the phone on my bed. “Oh, fuck. This week is going to be a crazy-ass week.” I opened the door...and froze. My boyfriend. No, not my boyfriend. My ex. George Don. Looking like he’d forgotten how to breathe, let alone speak. “Um… hello?” I forced out. “Cierra…” he breathed, like my name still belonged on his tongue. I stepped aside. “Come in.” The moment the door clicked shut behind him, I grabbed the nearest cigarette and lit it. His eyes followed every move, hunger dripping from his stare. “So… why are you here?” I asked, exhaling smoke toward him. “Call me an obsessed ex,” he said with a half-smirk. “Oh, right,” I said. “So you walked the earth searching for better coochie and discovered they could never beat mine?" He chuckled. “Nice guess.” My eyes narrowed. “Shut up, motherfucker.” He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, I shoved the cigarette between his lips and pushed him backward onto my couch, climbing onto his lap like instinct had taken over. He lifted me effortlessly, carried me into the bathroom, pressing me against the wet tiles, water splashing over both of us. His jeans dropped to the floor, his cock hard and heavy against my thigh. “Say you want it,” he growled against my lips. I gasped. “I want it.” He didn’t wait. His hand shoved up my gown, ripping my panties down. My legs wrapped around his waist, he rubbed his cock as he slammed into me, deep, hard, brutal. “Ohhh fuck...” I cried, biting into his shoulder as he fucked me against the wall, water pouring down on us. He grunted, his hand choking me lightly, eyes dark and wild. “You like that, don’t you? Being ruined by someone you know shouldn't be in your life anymore..” “Yes...oh god yes,” I moaned, nails digging into his back. He flipped me, bending me over the sink, slamming into me harder, faster. My reflection in the mirror showed me: messy hair, parted lips, eyes gone wild with lust. I didn’t even recognize myself. He spanked me, the sound echoing in the steam. “Take it.” I screamed his name...no...I screamed nonsense, screamed pleasure, screamed everything I’d been holding in.. He sighed. "Fuck." "You love it, don't you?" He turned me, grabbing my waist as he kissed me deeply, passionately but I was never a girl of passion as he dragged my shirt down to my bare breast. I took his hands and traced them to my nipples as he bit my tongue, kissing me like this could be our last make out. "Fuck, you must be starving..." He said as i moaned 'mhmm' under my breath. I raised my legs, spreading them wide open for easy penetration as he adjusted and pulled out his cock. "C'mon, slide it all in." I said, rubbing his cock. "Fuck fuck, do it however you please, princess." He whispered, feeling the warmth of my hand on his cock. I stroked his cock profusely before inserting it... He felt my tight pussy compressed as he began moving in slowly. "Fast, please." I moaned out as he held my neck and began thrusting fast. He ploughed non-stop as i gave out sounds of pleasure, He held my legs tightly, as he kept fucking me deep, hitting every corner of my pussy. He leaned closer, kissing and fumbling my breast...Just as his hands slid up my back.. A knock. He frozed. “No. No, ignore it,” I hissed. Again...Knock. Knock. Insistent. Sharp. Then, a white envelope slid under my door, gliding across the floor like a threat. George sat back. “Is it bad?” I picked up the envelope...thick paper, gold seal, expensive trouble. My name handwritten across the front. I ripped it open. Read. And felt my stomach drop into hell itself. “Oh… what the actual fuck…” “Worse than bad?” George asked carefully. I swallowed hard, fingers trembling as I stared at the shocking words stamped inside. “Much worse,” I said… because the universe had officially lost its mind.The soft glow of the bedside lamp filled the quiet hotel room with warm, golden light.After the long and exhausting day, peace had finally settled over them.Cierra sat gently on the edge of the large bed, looking down at her son with eyes full of love and quiet strength.Greg lay tucked under the clean white sheets, his small body finally relaxing after weeks of fear and pain.Diego had kindly stepped out to give them this special private moment.The curtains were drawn, and the world outside felt distant. Only the faint hum of the air conditioner and the soft ticking of the wall clock could be heard.Cierra gently stroked Greg’s hair, her fingers moving in slow, soothing motions. “Are you comfortable, my love?” she asked softly.Greg nodded, blinking up at her with tired but peaceful blue eyes. “Yes, Mommy. I still feel like I’m dreaming. Like I’ll wake up and you won’t be here.”Cierra’s heart tightened with emotion. She took his small hand in hers and held it warmly. “I’m here, G
The courtroom sat in heavy silence, thick with anticipation and unspoken questions.Every eye was fixed on the tall, commanding figure who had just walked down the aisle.He stopped beside Greg’s table, standing like a shield between the broken boy and the rest of the world. The man carried an air of quiet strength and unshakable truth.Ms. Rivera, Greg’s defense lawyer, turned to him with sharp curiosity. “The court is in session. May we know who you are and what connection you have to this boy?”The man looked directly at the judge, his voice steady and clear. “My name is Dr. Diego Morales. I am the adoptive father of Greg Monroe.”The entire courtroom erupted into chaos. Gasps, loud murmurs, and shocked whispers exploded across the benches.Reporters leaned forward. Keisha’s mother shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her composed mask cracking for the first time.“Order! Order in the court!” Judge Thompson banged his gavel repeatedly. “Quiet down immediately!”Mr. Hayes, the prosecu
The grand courtroom was packed to capacity, filled with a heavy, suffocating tension that hung in the air like thick smoke.Sunlight filtered through tall, narrow windows, casting long dramatic shadows across the polished wooden floors and dark oak benches.Reporters sat in the back rows, scribbling notes furiously, while curious spectators whispered among themselves.Family members, police officers, and social workers filled the remaining seats.The atmosphere felt electric...a mixture of sorrow, outrage, and cold curiosity. This was no ordinary case, a child stood accused of murder.Two burly officers escorted a small figure through a side door.Greg walked slowly, his thin wrists bound in metal handcuffs that looked far too heavy for his small frame.The bright orange juvenile detention jumpsuit swallowed him, making the eleven-year-old appear even smaller and more fragile.His blue eyes were swollen and red from endless nights of crying. His head hung low, shoulders slumped in def
The world around Greg blurred into chaos and darkness.His small legs pumped furiously as he sprinted toward the wrecked car, branches whipping against his face and arms.His heart thundered in his chest like a war drum, each beat echoing the terror that consumed him.Tears streamed down his cheeks, hot and endless, mixing with the dust and sweat on his skin.The cool night air stung his lungs as he gasped for breath, but nothing could stop him.“Keisha!” he screamed, his voice raw and desperate, cracking under the weight of pure panic. “Keisha, where are you?! Please, answer me!”He stumbled over debris from the crash, sharp pieces of metal cutting into his shoes, but the pain barely registered. “Your mom begged me to protect you! She trusted me, Keisha, please don’t do this to me. I’m sorry for everything I said earlier. I’m so sorry!”His cries echoed into the empty night, mixing with the distant, fading music from the prom hall.It felt like a cruel joke now, all that laughter and
Greg froze in place, his arms still slightly open from the hug.The peaceful garden atmosphere shattered instantly as Keisha’s sharp, furious voice rang out through the flowers and lanterns. “How dare you, Greg!”The words dripped with bitterness and raw hurt.Keisha stood there under the soft glow of the garden lights, her small body shaking with anger.Her fists were clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned pale. Tears shimmered in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall, blinking hard to push them back.Her pretty prom dress suddenly looked out of place on her trembling frame as jealousy burned across her face like fire.She looked betrayed, disappointed, and deeply wounded all at once.Amaya pulled away from Greg quickly, her cheeks flushing bright red with embarrassment. She looked down at the ground, her ponytail falling slightly over one shoulder.The sweet, confident girl from moments earlier now seemed small and uncomfortable. “I… I think I need to go back inside,” she
Greg leaned heavily against the rough stone wall in the quiet garden, his small chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.His heart pounded wildly, like a drum in his ears. Sweat trickled down his forehead despite the cool night breeze.He kept whispering to himself, trying to calm down. Breathe. Just breathe. No one saw me. I’m safe here.His fingers tightened around his mother’s hairpin, the only thing that made him feel even a little bit strong.Shadows from the tall flowers danced around him under the soft lantern lights, but every rustle made him flinch.Then a gentle voice broke through the silence. "Are you okay?”The voice was incredibly soft, almost like a whisper carried by the wind. It came from behind a cluster of tall, blooming bushes heavy with white and purple flowers.Greg whipped around, raising the hairpin in front of him. His eyes widened in shock as a little girl slowly stepped out into the open.She looked about nine years old, with a neat ponytail tied w
Chelsea's POV I spun around at the noise and almost lost it when I saw Cierra cuffed up like some criminal. My heart dropped, my blood boiling. “Yo! Let me tell you something, let her go, now!” I yelled, striding toward her, heels clicking sharp on the pavement.One of the officers gave me a long
Blinky's POV I kept my expression unreadable as Mr. Dominic towered over me, his eyes sharp enough to cut straight through every lie I had ever told.“No, sir. I have no idea who you’re speaking about,” I said calmly.A clean lie.A necessary lie.Because even though Cierra and I had drifted apart
Cierra's POVThe moment I saw Blinky standing with Dominic, my breath caught in my throat. My stepdad’s cold, unreadable expression mixed with Blinky’s tense posture sent dread crawling slowly down my spine. I barely had time to comprehend what they were discussing when a firm hand clamped around
Cierra's POV I kept my eyes glued to the window, watching cars slice through the night like they had no problems in the world. People walked past the club...laughing, shouting, drunk, excited, living their lives with a freedom I couldn’t even pretend to have. My mind was a tight knot of panic, sh







