All Chapters of Love Me Not, Mr. Snow: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Rima’s POV“At the time, I believed his plan was too dangerous and would risk too many lives. In our quest for revenge, many of our own men and Patrick’s men were going to die. So that night, I infiltrated his house without alerting anyone and silently killed him in his home office. It was the first and last time I ever killed someone. I had thought it would be hard for me, but it wasn’t. I didn’t even hesitate as I shot him three times without blinking. I thought that I would feel something then – remorse for taking a life, even one who deserved it, or relief for ending the life of the man who had destroyed our family. But I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. I left his office planning to return the way I had come when I was stopped dead in my tracks by the sight of Jenny outside her room"He fell silent then, unable to continue. I could see the battle raging within him, the struggle to put into words the emotions that were evidently

Rima's POVI was roused from my sleep by the soft cry of a baby echoing through the silence. Blinking against the morning light that filtered into the room, I stretched languidly, my gaze drifting towards my wristwatch. It read half-past seven. Despite the early hour, I felt the refreshing tendrils of a good night's sleep wrapping around me, leaving me feeling rejuvenated.Quickly, I slipped into the ensuite, letting the warm water of the shower wash away any lingering sleepiness. As I dried my hair, the baby's cries continued to echo in the background, a soft undertone to the morning's tranquility.I dressed simply, pulling on a pair of casual blue jeans and a comfortable white sweater with long sleeves. The outfit was simple yet chic, perfect for the morning ahead.The baby's cries, persistent yet soft, were now emanating from downstairs. As I descended the staircase, the sounds of an awakening household greeted me. The living room was alive with activi

Rima’s POV"Are you absolutely certain about this?" Jacob questioned, his tone laced with a hint of concern. He extended a gun towards me, his eyes reflecting an unspoken anxiety. He seemed to worry that I might recoil from the danger inherent in such an activity, that fear might overtake me and create a rift between us once more.With a tentative smile, I reached out and took the gun from him, my grip steady "Yes, Jacob. I'm a hundred percent sure. Just relax, and let's enjoy this moment together" I assured him.The competition hadn't started yet, and I was the only one scheduled for a practice session. They all surmised I was inexperienced with firearms and wanted to give me a fighting chance so that Jacob and I wouldn't embarrass ourselves in the upcoming competition. Jacob himself was considered rusty, having confessed that he hadn't held a gun in five years, but he chose not to join me in the training. Perhaps his years of experience had ingrained in

Rima’s POVWith only half an hour until our departure, we navigated the labyrinth of security checks and checkpoints with practiced ease. There was no time to relax in the lounge, as we were ushered directly onto the tarmac where the sleek private jet that brought us here awaited.The interior of the jet was bathed in a soft, ambient light, the plush seats beckoning invitingly. We slipped into the same seating arrangement as before - me by the window, Jacob beside me, his presence a comforting constant.As the cabin crew began their pre-flight checks, a wave of unease washed over me. My hand trembled slightly as I reached for my seatbelt, the cool metal clasp slipping through my fingers. A bead of sweat trickled down my forehead, my palms growing clammy.The all-too-familiar fear began to claw at my insides, my stomach churning ominously. It felt like a cruel puppeteer was tugging at my intestines, threatening to evacuate my earlier meal. My phobia

Jacob's POV In the realm of dreams, I was ensnared by visions of hazel eyes, gleaming with an intensity that sparked a fire within me. They were paired with lips, so full and hearty, they whispered promises of unspoken words and lingering touches. I dreamt of kissing her, the imagined taste of her lips intoxicating, making my heart pound with a rhythm that mirrored my yearning. My dreams were painted with images of touching her, tracing the contours of her form with a reverence that only heightened my desire. The sound of her voice, saying my name in the most sensual way, echoed in the depths of my subconscious, striking chords of longing that resonated throughout my being. I was like a teenager in the throes of puberty, unable to control the rush of newfound desires. The line between dream and reality blurred, the intensity of my longing for her manifesting in a physical response I couldn't ignore. My body reacted instinctively, growing more aroused as her i