All Chapters of Pop My Cherry Daddy!: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

POP MY CHERRY DADDY. Chapter 82.Isabella's lashes fluttered and her eyes opened. Her hands gripped her head sharply and she grimaced at the sharp headache, winching slightly. Her lashes fluttered open and her eyes met with the familiar ceiling. She blinked back— an attempt to shove the blurry view away. When she opened her eyes again, her vision was finally clear but the ache in her head didn't reduce.Isabella groaned, sitting upright. She looked around, recognizing the room—she had recognized it at the first glance of it. This was her previous room. Her safe space. The only place she ran to when Annable picked on her, or her uncle found petty reasons to bully her. Isabella exhaled. Struggling to get out of bed, but her forehead pinched. “Ouch!” She winched, gripping her head at once. She breathed in, her right eye slightly closed as she massaged her forehead gently. Isabella remained in that position, holding onto her forehead and grimacing from the pain that slithered thro

POP MY CHERRY DADDY. Chapter 84. Ignazio’s grip on the wheel tightened, his knuckles turning pale. His jaws clenched—mind racing rapidly as he pushed the accelerator harder, speeding through the semi-empty road. If anything happened to Isabella then he would never forgive himself. As much as Ignazio tried to convince himself that Dylan was a coward and nothing could happen to Isabella under Amma’s watch, something in him had not been able to trust Amma completely. At the moment, everybody was a suspect to him. Ignazio pushed the worry behind his mind, venting all his energy and concentration into driving fast. As he sped through the lonely road, silence filled the air and the words of Dylan spilled into his head, stripping him of the little peaceful moment he had barely gotten. “Your father dared me when he barged into our house and pulled the fucking trigger.”His grip against the wheel tightened and he shut his eyes for a brief seconds, trying to push the thoughts away, but the

Isabella sat frozen on the chair, her heart hammering violently against her ribcage. A cold sweat slithered down her spine, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps. The room felt suffocating, the walls pressing in as if they conspired against her. Her hands trembled, not just from the tight ropes that had bitten into her skin but from the unbearable weight of her aunt’s words.“Whatever love Ignazio has for you is a fragment of the love that he had for your mother.”No. No, that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.She shook her head vigorously, her curls bouncing with the motion. Ignazio was not a pervert. He had never been. He loved her—deeply, possessively, fiercely. He would never do anything to hurt her. He would lay his life down for her if he had to. But her aunt’s voice, dripping with venom, slithered through her mind like a serpent, planting seeds of doubt where there had once never been unwavering certainty. She had known Ignazoo for a year—and he had never been caught with a lady

Chapter 88. “Are you surprised?” Her lips twitched further and she eased her neck. “I killed her, Nazio. I killed your lover and best friend I will still kill your lover then….” her voice lowered to a whispered, “I’ll let you rot in your own misery. Just like you freaking made me.”Anna’s world tilted.Her entire body froze and she glared at her mother under the possessive grip of Ignazio. Her heart clenched, shattering in one goal. This woman…This monster standing before her—she had never been the mother Anna thought she was.For years, Anna had painted a picture of a woman wronged by the world. A woman deprived of happiness. A woman broken by tragedy.But now?She saw the truth.Her mother wasn’t a victim.She was a psychopath one that didn't heal for years of pain, just in—her thoughts spiraled and realization dawned on her. Her lips trembled as she whispered, “Where… Where is my father?”Silence.Then—A slow, taunting smile curled at Amma’s lips.“Father?” she echoed, her to

CHAPTER 90. Ignazio sat on the chair next to Isabella’s bed, his fingers laced with hers as if letting go would mean losing her forever. The rhythmic beeping of the monitor echoed through the sterile hospital room, but he barely heard it. All he could hear was the agonizing silence—the silence of her unconsciousness, the silence of her absence, the silence of his own torment. “I am sorry,” he whispered, his voice trembling as a tear slid down his cheek, disappearing into the stubble along his jaw. His grip on her hand tightened, as if he could will his regret into her through touch alone. He should have been careful. He should have known better. He shouldn’t have hurt her. He shouldn’t have ignored the possibility that she would follow him. But he had, and now the consequences were suffocating him. If only he had done things differently… If only she hadn’t witnessed his fury toward Anita, hadn’t seen him for the monster he was, hadn’t walked away from him in anger… If only she had