In Love With My Bully-Chapter 72: Shattered Truths

The moment the door clicked shut, the world outside ceased to exist. There was no past, no future; only the burning present between us.

I pressed Nita against the door, my lips moving over hers with a hunger I couldn’t suppress. Her fingers curled into my hair, pulling me closer, as if she needed this as much as I did. My hands roamed beneath her dress, sliding over her warm skin, mapping out the curves I knew by heart.

She gasped into my mouth as I lifted her, her legs wrapping around my waist. I carried her across the room, laying her down on the bed without breaking our kiss. Her dress rode up as I settled between her thighs, my lips trailing down her jaw, her throat, savoring the way her breath hitched with every touch.

"Richard," she whispered, her fingers tracing over my shoulders, down my chest. The way she said my name—it was my undoing.

I groaned against her skin, pressing my body against hers. "I need you," I murmured, my voice rough with emotion. "Tonight, I just need you."

Her hands trembled as they slid beneath my shirt, her touch sending heat spiraling through me. I pulled the fabric over my head, tossing it aside, before reaching for the delicate straps of her dress. She arched beneath me as I slowly peeled it from her body, revealing smooth, golden skin that glowed in the dim light.

For a moment, I just looked at her. The woman who had been my greatest love and my salvation. I trailed my fingers down her side, committing her to memory, because I knew this might be the last time I could have her like this.

"You’re beautiful," I murmured, pressing a kiss to her collarbone, then lower.

She exhaled shakily, her nails biting into my skin as I worshipped every inch of her, drawing out soft moans and whispered pleas. My hands and lips explored her, learning her all over again, while she undid me with every sigh, every touch, every desperate grasp to pull me closer.

And when I finally entered into her, it wasn’t just about passion; it was about love. A love that had survived betrayal. A love that had broken us and rebuilt us, over and over again.

She clung to me, her body moving with mine in a rhythm that felt like home. Every movement, every kiss, every breath between us was filled with unspoken words: apologies, promises, the raw truth neither of us dared to voice.

I held her tighter, knowing that in a few days, she would hate me. But tonight, she was still mine. And I would make sure she never forgot it. freewёbnoνel.com

*****

The moment I saw him shuffle into the visiting area in that orange jumpsuit, a new kind of rage bubbled inside of me. For the first time since our final showdown, I finally came to see the man who had once been my closest friend. The man who had tried to destroy my wife. The man whose actions were still tearing my world apart even from behind bars.

He smirked as he took a seat across from me, his shackled hands resting on the table like this was some kind of casual meeting between old friends.

"Looks like someone has regained his memories," he mused, his tone laced with amusement.

"Prison looks good on you," I shot back, my voice cold.

"Well, what can I say? At least I fit in here and not with the almighty Numero clan." He leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing with something that almost looked like satisfaction. "I see Nita convinced you to come see me. Oh, and congratulations on the birth of your first child."

A sharp chill ran through me. My first child. Something about the way he said it made my stomach tighten with unease.

"You contacted Nita?" I demanded. "Wait... what do you mean, first child?"

He chuckled darkly, shaking his head as if he found my confusion amusing. "She didn’t tell you... That’s so Nita. Always trying to protect you, always making sure you never see the full picture. She did say she couldn’t break your heart."

"Sam, you better tell me what the fuck is going on, or I swear to God, I will make it my personal mission that you spend the rest of your days in agony in here. I will pay every single inmate to make your life a living hell."

He exhaled slowly, as if savoring the moment, then tilted his head. "I wish for death, Richard. But the only reason I stay alive is to know my daughter, Chayara." His lips curled into a smirk. "What the hell kind of bloody name is Chayara anyway?"

My pulse pounded in my ears as my mind struggled to process his words.

"Sam... don’t tell me."

He shrugged, feigning indifference. "Do you want to know, or do you not? Make up your mind, you bumbling idiot."

I swallowed, my throat dry, my hands clenched into fists. "Chayara is yours?"

His expression didn’t change, but the amusement in his eyes increased. "Well, we were fucking the same woman."

The words hit like a sledgehammer to my chest.

"I thought, initially, that you liked her. I didn’t know you were just maintaining your legend as a fuck boy." He continued, his voice laced with mockery. "And I wanted to do the same thing you did to me in high school—staking your claim on Nita when you knew I liked her. It doesn’t feel as good as I thought it would, though."

I barely heard him. My entire body felt numb.

"Chayara is yours," I whispered again, my mind unwilling to accept the truth.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Hello... broken record."

My vision blurred with rage. The chair beneath me screeched as I shot to my feet, slamming my fists onto the table so hard that it rattled.

"You slimy bastard!" I roared. "How much more will you take away from me? What more do you want from me?"

The guards immediately snapped to attention, moving toward us. I forced myself to step back, breathing heavily, lifting my hands in surrender. But my entire body trembled with fury.

Sam simply leaned back in his chair, watching me with satisfaction. "It’s nice to see you in pain," he said softly, his voice dripping with malice. "Welcome to my world."

I turned to leave, but his voice stopped me.

"You’ll be hearing from my mother’s lawyers soon," he called after me. "My daughter will not be raised in your toxic household, especially now that you’ve got your Queen."

I froze for half a second, my fists clenching again. But I refused to turn back.

"Welcome to hell, Sam," I said over my shoulder. "You just ensured the rest of your time here will be a miserable one."

And with that, I walked out, refusing to let him see the way my entire world had just shattered.

The second I stepped outside, the cold air hit me, and the weight of it all crashed down.

I staggered forward, gripping the nearest wall for support as my chest heaved.

Then, finally, I broke.

A ragged sob tore from my throat, followed by another and another. The world blurred as the truth settled deep into my bones.

Chayara wasn’t mine.

*****

Today was a day of prison visits.

Martin had advised against it. He always did when he knew I was about to dig deeper into a wound that was still bleeding. But I had to. I had to hear it from her. I needed to hear the truth from Chayara’s mother, needed to know for certain that she wasn’t mine. Because despite everything, despite the betrayal, despite the lies, I still loved that child.

"Boss, you don’t have to do this," Martin said as he pulled into the parking lot of the female penitentiary. He had been with me through everything, through every storm, every moment of madness. And he knew, maybe better than I did, just how much this was going to wreck me.

"Martin... I have to." I sighed, running a hand over my face, exhaustion settling deep in my bones. "Nothing is going right for me. I thought I would leave with Chayara to keep Nita and Queen safe from the madness that surrounds me. I thought taking Chayara with me would help lessen the pain of leaving them behind."

Martin scoffed, shaking his head. "You don’t have to leave either. You don’t give Mrs. Numero a lot of credit. I’ve watched that woman fight battles for you without expecting anything in return."

"Well, she shouldn’t have to fight any battles," I muttered, pushing the car door open.

Martin didn’t argue. He knew me well enough to know I had already made up my mind.

The usual search was thorough, twice in one day, but I barely registered it. My mind was elsewhere. My heart was pounding in my chest, anticipation curling in my stomach like a sickness.