Hello readers, What is coming to the next? Can you guess?
Abigail's pov - I scoff, unable to contain my disbelief at her theatrical performance. This is not a time for her to play the victim. I didn't say anything to warrant her tears. The weight of her betrayal sits heavily upon my shoulders, and her attempt to shift the blame infuriates me further. Before I can respond to her feeble excuses, the call abruptly ends. Panic sets in as I repeatedly dial her number, desperate to continue the confrontation, but it goes straight to voicemail. The number is switched off. I am left screaming into the void, my grief and pain echoing through the empty room. In the depths of my anguish, I unleash a primal scream that reverberates through the room. It tears through the air, an anguished cry escaping from the depths of my soul. The sound that erupts from me is raw, unfiltered, and filled with a torrent of emotions that words alone cannot express. "AAAAHHHH!" The scream tears through my throat, carrying with it the weight of betrayal, hurt, and shatte
Ema's pov - My heart skips a beat as Abigail's name flashes on my phone screen. Fear clenches my chest, but I quickly compose myself and answer the call. Just as I start speaking, I notice Michael passing by my desk, a perfect opportunity to put my plan into motion. I fake a sob, hoping to grab his attention. And it works. With a concerned expression, Michael approaches me, and I abruptly end the call and switch off my phone, feigning distress. "Hey, Ema. What's wrong?" His voice is laced with worry, and I have to keep up the act. "Nothing," I responded, pretending to wipe away tears from my eyes. I need to make him believe that something terrible has happened and that Abigail's friendship is my top priority. It's crucial that he falls into my trap. "Tell me, please," he insists, his voice gentle but persistent. I take a deep breath, steadying myself. I need to convince him of my innocence and loyalty. "Please, stay away from me," I say, my voice trembling as I pretend to sob. "Ab
Michael's pov - I find myself locked in a difficult conversation with Ema, her words hanging heavily in the air. She seems determined to question the strength of my commitment to Abby, my wife. I take a moment to collect my thoughts, searching for the right words to convey my unwavering devotion. "Ema, I apologize if my words sound harsh, but I am deeply committed to Abigail," I say, my voice filled with sincerity. "Despite her insecurities and the claim of being Tuberose, I cannot betray her trust. You hold a special place in my heart, and I respect you greatly. But Abby is my life partner, and I would never even entertain the thought of hurting her. We may be facing conflicts, but I am fully dedicated to working through them and restoring the strength of our relationship." Ema looks visibly uncomfortable, her eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and disappointment. I reach out and gently pat her cheek, a gesture meant to convey reassurance. "I know it might be hard for your hear
Michael's pov - "I know," she scowls, her tone tinged with hurt and resignation. "There's no need to share the details with me. It's fine. After all, it's your life, and I don't have any right to ask you anything, Mick. Oh, sorry, Mr. Pattinson." The sarcasm in her words stings, each syllable an arrow piercing my already wounded heart. I reach out to hold her hand, hoping to bridge the emotional chasm that has grown between us. "Abby, please, let me explain," I plead, my voice cracking with raw emotion. But she pulls away, her hand slipping from my grasp, leaving behind an emptiness that mirrors the void in my soul. She turns away, her gaze fixed on the rain-soaked window, her voice barely a whisper. "You've hurt me in so many ways, Mick," she says, her words laden with sorrow and resignation. At that moment, I realize the magnitude of my mistakes, the devastating consequences of my actions. A wave of regret washes over me, the weight of my choices crashing down upon me. With tears
Michael's POV - "Okay, then. If you guys want to solve it by yourself. I am not saying anything. However, I am just a knock away from you, my child." Dad pats her shoulder and leaves by giving me a gaze of rage. I take baby steps toward her. She changes her direction so I take faster steps and hold her right hand. "Listen to me, please." I plead, feeling the weight of the situation. I don't know why she is so stubborn. She clenches her fist, her eyes burning with stubbornness. "I have no interest in listening to your intimacy with another girl," she retorts, her words hitting me like a punch to the gut. It's clear that convincing her won't be easy. I steel myself, determined to make her hear me out. "Won't you at least hear me out?" I ask, my determination solidifying. She forcefully pulls her hand from my grip, her voice laced with defiance. "No, you can't force me, Mr. Pattinson," she states, uttering my last name with a touch of venom. It stings to hear her say it with such disd
***Mature Content Alert Michael's pov - "I am sorry for asking you to call me, Mr. Pattinson," I mumbled as I grazed my lips against hers, slightly teasing her. Her lips trembled, and her breath hitched when I licked her lips. It surprises me when she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me closer. God! Why did you make her so attractive? Those soft lips graze mine, and I find myself biting them. She moans and that makes me craze to do more. I lift her to my hips and slam her against the wall. She groans as her center ground on my crotch. My hands travel on her behind and squeeze them, making her moan loudly, and she drowns her center more aggressively. I turn left to lay her down on the table, keeping her legs wrapped around my waist. Her arms are still wrapped around my neck, and I pull away to look at her. Her eyes are calling me closer. We captured each other's lips again, my right hand started to squeeze her breast while my other hand supported her waist. She moans again wh
Michael's pov - As Abigail rests peacefully in my arms, her gentle breaths creating a soothing rhythm, I can't help but find myself lost in admiration of her beauty. The soft glow of moonlight spills into the room, casting a delicate illumination upon her features. It's moments like these when I am reminded of the incredible fortune I have to call her mine. I study her face, tracing the contours with my gaze, taking in every delicate detail. Her eyes closed in peaceful slumber, holding a captivating depth that never fails to draw me in. The curve of her lips, slightly upturned, reveals a hint of a smile, an indication of the happiness that resides within her even in her dreams. With the gentlest touch, I graze my knuckles along her smooth skin, savoring the warmth and softness that lies beneath. A slight tickle elicits a barely perceptible smile, a small reflection of the joy she brings to my life. It's moments like these that make me realize how truly lucky I am to have her by my s
Michael's pov - I rush to the balcony, my heart pounding in my chest as I answer the call. The voice on the other end sends a chill down my spine. "Hello..." I manage to utter, my voice betraying my fear and uncertainty. "How important is she to you?" The question hangs in the air, heavy with an underlying threat that I can't quite decipher. I quickly gather my thoughts, searching for the right words to respond. "She is my wife's best friend," I answer, trying to downplay the significance of Ema's role in my life. I sense there's more to this conversation, a hidden motive behind the caller's inquiries. "And?" the voice presses, leaving me feeling even more unsettled. "She is also my employee," I reply, my mind racing to understand the intent behind these probing questions. Why is this person so interested in Ema's importance to me? What do they want? "Don't make me freak out, man," the caller warns, their tone dripping with an unsettling mix of menace and frustration. My anxiety