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Chapter 31 - Poetic Punishment
Last Updated:
2024-12-09 10:50:36
JanedoewritingsHere it is! The long-awaited face-off between V and A. Hope it lived up to your expectations! As always, I’m beyond grateful for your support. Your comments, votes, and reactions mean the world to me, so don’t hold back, tell me everything! XOXO 💋
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Alessandro ☩══♛══☩ The handcuffs were off, but I still felt the weight of them, pressing into my wrists like a phantom ache. It was as if she’d seared them into my skin, The paperwork had been signed. My lawyer—Goldstein, stood by the exit, flipping through the final documents, nodding along to some bullshit the desk agent mumbled. I barely heard any of it. My eyes were fixed on the sterile walls, the fluorescent lights above, and the goddamn FBI crest mounted on the far wall like it was something holy. Sanctimonious bastards. There was this roiling fury in my chest, burning like a furnace I couldn’t extinguish. All I could think about was her. Viviane Kane. Oh fuck, my bad... Special Agent Viviane Kane. I need to make sure I don’t forget that little title any time soon. A darkness washed over me, sinking into my thoughts, my heart, my very being. I could still see her face, those wide, desperate eyes staring back at me... pathetic. She wouldn’t get to haunt me, not
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Viviane ☩═✦═☩ The room was cold and too quiet, the kind of quiet that crawled under your skin and makes you shiver. The only sounds were the soft tapping of keys as the polygraph operator prepped the machine. My pulse thrummed in my ears, loud enough that I wondered if they could hear it too. The chair they had me in was straight-backed and uncomfortable, positioned dead center in the room like a bullseye. Wires and straps were secured to me: one around my chest, another on my arm, sensors on my fingertips. I felt like a lab rat, stripped of any dignity, every breath I took measured and recorded. Across from me, Special Agent Hanson sat, clipboard in hand. Fitz stood in the corner, arms crossed, his face a mask of disappointment and scrutiny. “You know how this works, Kane,” Hanson said, his voice clipped, “Answer with a simple yes or no. Any deviations will be noted. Understood?” “Yes,” I said, my voice was steady despite the storm brewing inside me. “Good.” He glance
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Lilianna »»»◈««« I had precisely one shot at this. If I told Marco under normal circumstances, he’d shut it down immediately. If I waited, he’d find out anyway—because he’s Marco. He’d outmaneuver me, corner me, and by the time I realized what he was doing, it would already be over. So I had to be strategic. Which is exactly why I waited until he was inside me. It wasn’t playing fair but I wasn’t playing. Marco had me on my hands and knees, my spine arched. His grip on my hips held me in place. One of his hands left my hip, sliding up the curve of my back, pressing between my shoulder blades, pushing me deeper into the mattress. I pressed my cheek against the mattress and whispered, "I started my own company." His movements slowed, uncertain like he wasn't sure he heard me right. I pressed my face harder into the mattress, "A rescue organization. Human trafficking, organ trafficking—" I rambled on and on. Marco’s fingers tightened bruisingly on my hips. And then he
