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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: The Fake Son
Last Updated:
2024-03-06 21:56:36
Madel McDonoughWhat do you think of the story so far?
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My hand trembles as I pull away from Hugh's grasp, my eyes filled with defiance and desperation. I can’t bear the thought of returning home with him, can’t face the suffocating weight of everyone’s expectations and demands on him. "I'm not going with you," I declare, my voice steady than I expect it would. "I don't have a home, Hugh. And right now, I want to stay here." Hugh's jaw tightens further, his eyes no longer shy away from flashing his anger. "You can't stay here," he insists. I try not to falter as I reply, “Who are you to decide where I wanna stay?” Before Hugh could protest further, Dwight steps forward, his voice calm but firm as he intervenes. "If you're worried that I'll be spending the night here with Anastasia, then don't. I'll be at mom's house." Hugh's glare intensifies as he locks it with Dwight's in a silent battle of wills. But Dwight refuses to back down, his own stare unwavering as he meets Hugh's challenge head-on. As the tension between them escalate
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DWIGHT’S POV: I gaze at Anastasia who looks surprised and confused. The taste of her lips is still lingering in mine, still making my muscles tingle. But the part of our kiss that shouldn’t be ignored is the electrifying sensation that coursed through me, which means one thing - she’s my mate! My thoughts drift back to the heated confrontation I had with Hugh earlier. The words reverberate in my mind like a haunting refrain, ‘Don't you dare touch my mate! It’s a warning laden with possessiveness and a primal instinct to protect what is his. However, Anastasia is not just Hugh's mate; she’s mine too, in ways I’m only beginning to understand. This is the one thing I won’t let Hugh take from me.Despite the risk, I lean forward, my heart thrumming with anticipation. I reach out to touch Anastasia, to bridge the distance between us once more. But before my fingertips could brush against her smooth skin, Anastasia leans back, her movements graceful yet deliberate. Her beautiful hazel ey
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Anastasia shifts uneasily, her fingers twisting around the edge of her skirt. It’s as if the very atmosphere thickens, suffocating her with its intensity. Fortunately, after what feels like an eternity of silence, she finally speaks, her voice hesitant, her gaze flickering to my face."I... I'll do it.”"Excellent," I pur, my voice smooth as silk. "Thanks for not rejecting my request. That means a lot to me, really."Anastasia swallows hard, before countering, “I’m only agreeing to this to make amends for the troubles I’ve caused you. Don’t think of this as something more than that.”“Oh, believe me, I know,” I lean forward, my demeanor remains poised and composed. "I've already made some initial plans for the wedding from two years ago. Of course, I'll be making a few modifications and improvements."I gesture for Christy, who’s standing a few feet from me, to come closer. Christy hurries over, her eyes darting between me and Anastasia. Then I turn to Anastasia and say, "Christy wi
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ANASTASIA’S POV: The soft glow of the ceiling light bathes the condo’s bedroom in a warm ambiance. I sit alone amidst the quietude, my gaze fixed upon the open folder spread out before me. Papers are scattered haphazardly across the bed, photographs peeking out from beneath the clutter, each one a testament to Yvanna's meticulous wedding plans. My fingers idly trace the edges of the papers as I try to focus, to absorb the details of what I’m seeing and reading, but my brain feels like a tangled mess of wires, incapable of coherent thought. “What do I know about planning a wedding anyway?” I glance at the photographs scattered across the desk – images of Yvanna and Hugh, their smiles frozen in time, their happiness captured for eternity. A pang of longing pierces my heart as I study them, my gaze lingering on Hugh's face. Regret gnaws at me, a bitter taste rising in my throat.“How could I bear to plan his wedding to another woman? And why did I stupidly accept Yvanna's inconsidera
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