Beranda / Urban / The Price of Peace: Book 3 In The No More Regrets Series / Bab 41 - Bab 50

Semua Bab The Price of Peace: Book 3 In The No More Regrets Series: Bab 41 - Bab 50

110 Bab

I Want a Divorce

Shane’s POVThe knocking hits the window again.Sharp. Deliberate.I freeze.Not figuratively. Literally.I’m standing there like a damn mannequin, one foot braced against the floor mat, my pants half fixed, my brain completely offline. My junk is still out. Maya, meanwhile, is moving like she’s in the Olympics, hands everywhere, dress tugging down, purse open, zipper fighting for its life.From outside the truck, I hear a laugh.A woman’s laugh.“Girl,” a voice calls, amused as hell. “Are you still in there?”I close my eyes and exhale slowly through my nose. Get it together, Shane.I yank myself back into my pants, fumbling but managing, grabbing the towel, the condoms, the wrappers, everything gets shoved together like evidence in a bad crime scene cleanup. I zip up, straighten my shirt as best I can, and try to remember how to exist in public.Another knock.Maya squeals, panic sharp in her voice.“Stop, Sienna! What do you want?”Sienna laughs harder. “Well, it’s five o’clock. I

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A Divorce.... Uh Mmm

Isla’s POV I sit there stunned as Shane rises from the couch in front of me.“Yeah,” he says, his voice sharp, final. “I said it. I want a fucking divorce.”He looks at me for half a second, just long enough for it to land, then turns and walks toward the kitchen. Cabinet doors slam open and shut. I don’t move. I can’t.The girls come running to me.“Mommy,” Lily says, climbing into my lap, “what’s wrong with Daddy? He’s really, really upset.”I just sit there, frozen.Sophia tilts her head. “He’s really mad,” she says softly. “Like… really, really mad.”Lily looks up at me. “Mommy, are you okay?”I shake my head automatically. “Yeah. I’m fine. Daddy’s just upset.”“Yeah,” Sophia adds. “I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”I sigh. “He’ll be okay. He just heard some bad news. Especially dealing with Shane Jr.”Lily frowns. “Oh. You mean that big sore on his neck? I told him it looks bad.”Sophia nods. “Uh-huh. It looks like somebody hit him in the neck with a baseball.”I shake my hea

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Courtroom Clearance

Keisha’s POV By the time Thursday rolls around, I’m already irritated.We’re getting ready to head downtown to Daley Plaza because, apparently, Akisha decided to file an injunction to try and restart child support.How you restart child support when you never followed the damn rules in the first place, I don’t know.She never showed up for DNA testing.She never brought the child to court.Kole has never seen this kid.No pictures. No proof. Nothing.She is doing the absolute most.And at this point, I’m starting to believe there is no child.Maverick called Wednesday morning with the update. He’d done a full search through Illinois vital records and statistics and everything he had access to, and there is no record of a child named Urmajesty born in the last three to four years.None.Unless the child was born in another state, that name does not exist in Illinois.And the birth certificate she submitted? The number doesn’t match anything in the system.So here we are. Emergency he

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Hook Ups and Old Ghosts

Maya’s POV It’s been a whole week since that impromptu hookup with Shane in his truck.Since then?We’ve been fucking like rabbits.He doesn’t miss a beat. He goes home, makes sure his kids are good, handles dinner, bedtime, all of that… and then like clockwork, he shows up at my studio around nine o’clock.And we go at it.Three hours. Sometimes four.It’s insane.I can’t believe I’m doing this.Tonight was no different. After another long, breathless session of us having hot, butt naked sex with each other all over this studio, I fall back against the small bed in the back room after he released my hips and my legs gave out and start laughing.“What the fuck are we doing?” I ask.He laughs too, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. But I can’t get enough of you. I’m ready to go again.”I look up at him, exhausted. “No, Shane. We are not going again, because I am tired as shit plus we’re out of condoms.”He pauses. “Shit… we are.”I’m shocked we burned through that many,

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Lunch and Flashbacks

Crandon’s POV This week has actually been… good.Mentally, physically, and professionally.Since that whole mess in the office, I’ve stopped trying to avoid Carmen, and she’s stopped trying to avoid me. We give each other space, keep it professional, and it works. No tension. No walking on eggshells.I didn’t realize how exhausting that was until it stopped.I lean back in my chair, staring at my computer, thinking about how every single day this week I’ve had lunch with Tempest.Every day.Not the cafeteria either, the café. Just us. One-on-one.I like the trajectory of this little office-ship… that’s what I’m calling it for now. But I haven’t asked her out yet. I’m pacing myself. After the situation with Carmen, I need to be sure I’m ready.Today we’re switching it up. Tempest suggested the pizza place across the street. Thank God. I’m tired of deli sandwiches and salads.I check my watch, throw on my jacket, grab my phone, and head downstairs to the waiting area by the vending ma

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Drama At The Company

Crandon’s POV We step out of the pizza spot with our food packed in tote bags, heading back across the street toward the building when I see her.Tempest mutters, “She’s back again? What the hell?”I shake my head. “I don’t know what Kole did to this woman, but from what he told me the case got thrown out with prejudice. It can’t even be brought back. So I don’t know what she’s trying to do now.”I glance at the sign she’s holding.DEADBEAT DADDY WORKS HERE. HE’S A LAWYER AND WON’T PAY CHILD SUPPORT. THE COURT IS IN HIS BACK POCKET.I pull my phone out and snap a quick picture with our building logo clearly in the background. Bad publicity is bad publicity.I send it to Knox, Kole, our fathers, and both grandfathers.Kole calls immediately.“Is she downstairs right now?” he asks.“Yeah,” I say. “Posted up. Got a whole little pop-up setup like she’s selling cell phones. Lunch bag, big-ass Starbucks drink and everything.”“What the fuck does she want?” he groans. “She won’t produce the

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The Gall of Self Entitlement

Keisha’s POVI’m walking across the floor of the warehouse, clipboard in hand, phone vibrating nonstop in my pocket. Kole’s calling again. I can’t pick it up, can’t stop right now, but the screen lights up like it’s mocking me. I sigh and slide it onto silent. The men notice. Some chuckle. A few whistles. God, it’s exhausting being one of three women running this company and over a hundred men who act like puberty is still their full-time job.I turn, glare sharp enough to cut glass, and they all go back to work. Like that’s convincing. Whatever.I keep moving, scanning the floor, checking production, seeing who’s slacking, who’s actually trying. I find Fred, the shift manager, and pull him aside.“Fred, how’s it going? I heard we had some complaints today.”He groans like I just asked him to recite me some Shakespeare. “Yeah… Joel over there, he’s been complaining about the packing lines. Says his only job was to run the machine.”I raise an eyebrow. “And now?”Fred sighs, running a

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Stalker Syndrome

Isla’s POVI sigh as I stare at the little blinking dot on my phone. The tracker. The tracker I put on my husband’s truck because my intuition was screaming and I was tired of being ignored. Tired of the late nights. Tired of the distance. Tired of the fake smiles and the “I’m just tired, and leave me alone” excuses.My husband, yes my actual husband is out here having a full-blown affair.The dot has been sitting in the same place for over twenty minutes. Ten o’clock at night. My kids are asleep. The house is quiet. My chest feels like it’s caving in, but I grab my keys anyway because I need to see it with my own eyes. I need proof. I need the pain to be real so I can stop wondering if I’m crazy for staying here.I get in my van and drive.When I pull up, I see his truck immediately. His precious truck, parked like he owns the place. The building is an art studio in this artsy district in North Chicago, glass front, warm lights, sculptures in the window. Across the street there’s a s

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Great Sex and Addiction

Shane’s POV:“Damn, girl… you are so fucking amazing.”I grab Maya’s face and kiss her slow and deep, still trying to catch my breath. We’re laid out on that small twin bed in her studio, both of us exhausted and sticky with sweat, and I can’t stop looking at her.It’s crazy how this started.At first it was once, maybe twice a week. Four times tops in those first couple of weeks.The sex was casual and controlled.Something I could compartmentalize.But after that two month break, and that hookup in the parking lot at work, something in me shifted.Now I’m addicted.Every day I run the same routine. Wake up, take my vitamins, shower, get the kids up, make breakfast, make sure Shane Jr. has his lunch money, drop them off, go to work, grind all day. After work I pick up dinner, make sure the kids eat, kiss them, and leave. I don’t even sit down to eat anymore with my family.I don’t give a fuck about Isla.Seven o’clock hits and I’m here, in Maya’s world. We eat together. We talk. We l

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First Date, Real Date

Crandon’s POV I check my watch again as I lean against the car.6:59.I told her seven. Reservation at 7:15. I’m cutting it close, but not late. That matters. First real date—not a work lunch, not a “we both happened to be hungry at the same time” thing. A date date.I smooth my jacket, glance in the mirror one more time, and exhale.Why am I this nervous?Headlights pull up two minutes later. Uber. My stomach flips because I already know it’s her.When Tempest steps out, I forget how to breathe.At the office she’s glasses, cardigans, fandom tees on casual Fridays. At Comic-Con she was cosplay and confidence. Tonight? She’s… unreal. She's wearing short sleeve sleek black dress hugging curves I didn’t even know existed, hair up in this gorgeous wrap, makeup soft but sharp. No glasses. No armor.Men walking past do double takes and I feel this ridiculous, territorial instinct kick in. I push off the car, close the distance, take her hand before anyone else even thinks about speaking

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