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Black SUV Arrival
Last Updated:
2025-04-03 23:06:40
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The next morning, I woke up with this weird feeling. Not dread exactly. Not courage either. Something else. My throat was dry as hell, and I had to pee so bad my eyes were watering, but I just lay there, staring at the ceiling.Fuck running. Fuck hiding. That's all I kept thinking. I'd spent my whole damn life doing both—with Mami Lulu in these mountains, in my joke of a marriage to Daniel, from everything I'd learned about my past. Just... done. Completely fucking done.I made coffee, burnt the shit out of my tongue on the first sip—always too impatient—and carried it to the porch. The sun was just breaking over the trees, turning the morning mist this weird golden color that reminded me of the glass pieces Mami Lulu used to make when she'd had an extra glass of wine with dinner. "Happy accidents," she'd called them.The SUV from last night had turned out to be nothing more sinister than the local vet making a house call to a neighbor I didn't even know I had. False alarm. But the adr
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A chill ran down my spine as he took another step toward me. I glanced toward the cabin, gauging whether I could make it inside and lock the door before he reached me. There were knives in the kitchen. My phone."Don't even think about it," he warned, following my gaze. "You're coming with me. We're going to fix this—fix everything you've broken.""I'm not going anywhere with you." I took a step backward, my heel catching on a rock. I stumbled slightly.He lunged forward, grabbing my arm with bruising force. "You don't get to decide anymore. I'm taking back control."I twisted, trying to break his grip, but his fingers dug deeper into my flesh. "Let go of me!""Or what?" he hissed, dragging me toward the path that led to the driveway. "You'll slap me like you slapped your sister? Make a scene? There's no audience here, Maya."I struggled with him, kicking at his shins, twisting to get my arm free. Something in him just... snapped. He grabbed both my arms so hard I knew they'd bruise, a
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AlexI watched the taillights of the police cruiser disappear around the bend, taking Daniel with it. My hands wouldn't stop fucking shaking. Knuckles raw, blood dried in the creases. The cotton of my shirt clung to my back, cold sweat making me shiver despite the warm evening.That moment kept replaying—Daniel holding Maya at the cliff edge, rocks crumbling beneath her feet, her eyes wide with terror. One second later and she would've been gone. Just gone.My stomach heaved suddenly. I lurched toward the bushes and threw up, acid burning my throat. Hadn't eaten since breakfast. Nothing but bile to give.When the spasms stopped, I straightened, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. The taste of copper—cut my lip somewhere in the struggle with Daniel. Hadn't even noticed.I spat, then reached for my phone, leaning against my car's hood. The metal had gone cold. How long had I been standing here? The sunset had faded to dusk, shadows stretching across the clearing.I dialed my securi
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I hung up and stared at the cabin. Warm light, dark outside. Maya moved around in there, her shadow crossing windows. What was she thinking? How much did she hate me right now? I wanted to go to her. Explain everything. Make her understand.I popped the trunk instead. Grabbed my overnight bag. Underneath sat that fucking folder. Years of Maya's life. News clippings, surveillance photos, background checks. All the shit I'd told myself was necessary. Protection. Due diligence.Opened it. Looked different tonight. Not thorough research anymore. Just—stalking. Obsession.Dr. Winters' voice in my head: "Where were you most afraid as a child, Alex?""Not knowing what was coming. When Victoria would be waiting after school, but I wouldn't know what for this time.""So you learned information means safety.""Knowledge is control.""Or just the illusion of it?"I slammed the folder shut. Maya's words echoed: "Everyone in my life has tried to own me." Had I been different? Really? I'd told mysel
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DanielBlood on my hands. Not a metaphor. Actual fucking blood.I stared at the red-brown stains embedded in my cuticles, tracing the lines in my palms. Whose blood? Mine? Hers? Or that son of a bitch who tackled me? Didn't matter. The concrete cell walls kept shifting if I looked at them too long, so I focused on my hands instead."This isn't happening," I whispered. My voice sounded wrong in the empty cell. Too small. Too tight. I was Daniel Russo. I didn't belong in places like this.Four concrete walls. A metal toilet with no seat. A slab they called a bed. Bright lights that never went off. The holding cell at the county sheriff's station wasn't meant for people like me. For Russo men.The blood under my nails bothered me. I rubbed my thumb over my fingertips, trying to dislodge the dried flakes. When had I last scrubbed under my nails? Yesterday. Before driving up to the mountains. Before finding her cabin. Before..."She pushed me to this," I muttered, digging harder at the blo
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Aldridge was waiting in a small interview room, his normally immaculate appearance slightly disheveled. He'd clearly rushed here directly from dinner—a faint wine stain marked his otherwise perfect tie."Daniel." He nodded curtly, opening his briefcase. "I've reviewed the preliminary charges. This is serious.""It's a misunderstanding," I repeated. "Maya became hysterical. We argued. I was trying to keep her from hurting herself."Aldridge's expression didn't change. "The responding officers report that they witnessed you holding Ms. Russo at the edge of a cliff while she struggled to break free. They further state that Alexander Thorne intervened to prevent her from falling when the ground began to give way beneath her feet.""Thorne," I spat. "He's turned her against me. Been working his way into her life for months. This is all his doing.""Daniel." Aldridge's voice sharpened. "I need you to listen carefully. You're being charged with attempted murder and violating a restraining or
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The rest of the day passed in a haze. Aldridge returned briefly to inform me that bail had been denied due to the severity of the charges and the risk that I might attempt to contact Maya again. I barely registered his words. All I could hear was Grandfather's voice: unworthy of the Russo name.That evening, I was allowed to shower again. In the metal panel that served as a mirror, I caught sight of a stranger—hollow-eyed, stubbled, hair lank and unwashed. I stared, momentarily confused about whose reflection I was seeing."That's me," I whispered, touching the cool metal surface. "That's... me."Something about the disconnection between my self-image and the reality in the mirror triggered a cascade of unwelcome thoughts. Had Maya ever loved me? Or had she merely tolerated me as the price for her career? Had Grandfather ever been proud of me? Or had I always been a disappointment he was waiting to replace?"Finish up, Russo," a deputy called. "Other inmates need to shower too."Back
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MayaI couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the ground giving way beneath my feet again. The rocks crumbling. Daniel's fingers digging into my arm as he pushed me closer to the edge. His eyes—empty, unrecognizable—as he said, "If I can't have you, no one will."Dawn broke through the cabin windows, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. I'd been pacing for hours, my body running on pure adrenaline that refused to subside. My shoulder throbbed where Daniel had grabbed me, and I knew without looking that his fingerprints were tattooed in purple across my skin.I made coffee in the battered percolator, the familiar ritual steadying my shaking hands. Through the kitchen window, I could see Alex outside on the porch, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He'd slept there all night. Or tried to, at least.As much as I hated how Alex always found a way to be there when things went to shit, I was grateful. If he hadn't shown up yesterday... I glanced toward the window
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"Maya," Father said, setting down his fork. "Let's be direct. The foundation you've established is creating a narrative that directly threatens our company's standing. Your use of the Vega name, your public statements about design appropriation—it's being interpreted as an attack on us.""It's not an attack," Maya replied. "It's the truth.""Truth is subjective in business," Father countered. "Perception is what matters. And the perception you're creating could do real damage.""To your profits," Maya said flatly."To our legacy," Mother corrected. "Everything we built—everything that would have been yours one day—is at risk because of this... crusade."Maya laughed, the sound startlingly everyone in the roo
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We moved to the dining room, a procession of expensive clothes and cold fury. I hung back, retrieving my phone, before moving to join them..The dining room looked like a spread from Architectural Digest—crystal chandeliers reflecting off polished silver, white roses arranged in perfect symmetry down the center of the mahogany table. It was the same setting Mother had used for every important dinner since I was a child.Maya paused in the doorway, her eyes scanning the familiar opulence. I could see the familiar expression that passed her face—recognition, remembrance, then it gave way to revulsion. Then it was gone, replaced by the careful mask she'd worn since arriving."You've redecorated," she observed, taking her seat. Alex sat beside her, his presence altering the careful balance of the table. Wher
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“Come here.”"I've been thinking about this for the last hour," he admitted, fingers already working at the button of my jeans. "You, just like this."I rocked against his hardened cock already evident beneath me. "You were supposed to be working.""Not with you biting your lip every time you read something challenging." His hands slipped inside my jeans, panties giving way, immediately finding my pussy like it was normal. "It's distracting.""Sorry," I said, with a slight shiver, but I wasn’t sorry at all."No, you're not." He squeezed, fingers digging into flesh in a way that made me gasp. "But you will be. Maya"The Mention of my name made something break loos
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The rest of the morning passed in a strangely comfortable rhythm. I showered while he took calls in the living room. When I came out, hair still damp, he was back in full CEO mode—laptop open, phone pressed to his ear, focused and professional.I settled at the dining table with my own laptop, diving into the foundation emails. Across from me, Alex argued with someone about supply chain issues, his voice firm but reasonable. It should have been awkward, this domesticity. Instead, it felt oddly natural.Around noon, he closed his laptop and stretched. I tried not to stare at the strip of skin exposed as his shirt rode up, but failed miserably. He caught me looking and smiled, slow and deliberate."Are you hungry?" he asked."Starving." I hadn't eaten since Troy&rsqu
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I woke to the smell of coffee and unfamiliar sounds in my kitchen. For a disorienting second, panic flared—someone was in my house—until the memory returned. Alex. Beach. Car. Couch. Bed. Floor at some point. Then bed again.My body ached in ways both foreign and familiar. My pussy was raw and swollen from fucking all night. It felt good. We had fucked again even after Alex came in me. I stopped at that thought. Alex had cummed in me multiple times last night. The thought of it somehow made my pussy ache again, I could feel it getting moist again. I snapped. Shit. I would need to sort that out later —getting backup.I stretched, taking inventory of what Alex had done to me. Purple marks dotted my inner thighs. Finger-shaped bruises colored my hips w
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He pushed inside, one long, slow thrust that made me gasp. The sensation was different without the condom—It was warm. The feeling of his warm cock against the wall of my pussy made me squirm. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on."Fuck, Maya," he groaned, holding still for a moment. "You feel—""I know," I cut him off. "Move."“Fuck me!”He did, setting a pace that had me digging my nails into his shoulders. He wasn’t holding back this time like he had done initially on the beach. Each thrust hit somehow hit that sweet spot inside me that made the pleasure build up.“Go harder Alex!” I moaned, “Please don’t stop. Fuck me!”
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The drive back to my apartment was torture. Good torture, but torture nonetheless. Every red light felt like it lasted an hour. Alex's hand rested high on my thigh, his thumb tracing small circles that made it nearly impossible to focus on the road."You're going to make me crash," I muttered as his fingers inched higher, slipping beneath the edge of my underwear."Then drive faster," he replied, voice rough in a way I'd never heard from him before.He didn't stop. His fingers slid lower, finding me still wet from the beach. I gasped, my foot instinctively pressing harder on the accelerator as he stroked me."Alex," I warned, gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles went white. "This isn't—""Keep your eyes on the road," he instructed, his other hand moving to my breast, thumb circling my nipple through my shirt.The speedometer crept higher as his fingers moved faster between my legs. My vision blurred at the edges, body torn between focusing on driving and surrendering to th
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He kissed me with an urgency that matched my own, hands moving beneath my t-shirt to find skin. His palms were callused and warm against my ribs as they moved upward, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts. I arched into the touch, impatient for more.We were still awkwardly positioned against the post, and my shoulder blade dug painfully into the weathered wood. "Not here," I said against his mouth.He immediately stepped back, misunderstanding. "We can go—""No, I mean, not against this post. It's digging into my back." I took his hand, led him away from the post to where a dune created some shelter from the wind. I pulled him down with me onto the sand.The cold immediately seeped through my jeans, but the discomfort seemed irrelevant compared to the heat
