All Chapters of Stalked By My Boyfriends Best Friend: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Luna POVThe trees seem to close in around me, suffocating, and my chest tightens as I realize there’s no clear path ahead. “You’re mine, Luna,” his voice growls from behind me, sending shivers down my spine. “You always were.” No. My heart slams against my ribs, my body begging for a break, for rest, but I can’t stop. The woods are a blur now, and my mind is spinning with fear, confusion, and something darker, something primal. Something that makes me want him to catch me, even though every instinct is screaming for me to keep running. But I won’t make it much longer. I know that. Suddenly, I’m thrown to the ground, my body hitting the forest floor. A rush of adrenaline, fear, and excitement surges through me as I flip onto my back. My breath catches when I see him—the mask, the one he always wears, he's now wearing for this. His hand moves swiftly, tearing my top open, exposing my chest to the cool night air. I barely have time to react before the knife appears, slicing through

Dante POVOnce inside, I sit on the bed and begin untying her. I lay her on the bed and begin to pull off my shirt that I’d wrapped around her waist, then the jacket, tossing them aside. She doesn’t stir, her breathing soft and even, still deep in sleep. But her appearance is a mess—beyond a mess. Luna lies sprawled out on the bed, her wild hair tangled and full of leaves, twigs sticking out in every direction like she just crawled through the underbrush. Dirt and mud streak across her body, smeared over her arms and legs. Scratches crisscross her skin, some shallow, some deeper, a few of them oozing faint lines of blood. Her knees and elbows are scraped raw, covered in a mix of mud and grime from the forest floor. There’s even a small cut on her cheek, just below her eye, and dried blood trails down from it. She looks like she’s been through a warzone, her once pale skin now smeared with the evidence of the night’s chase. Her clothes—or what’s left of them—are torn and ragged, bare

Luna POV We stand in silence, carefully picking out the twigs, leaves, and dirt from each other’s hair. Once we’ve gotten rid of everything—or at least what we can see—Dante pulls me into the shower. I watch the water as it runs down our bodies, the color shifting from clear to a muddy mix of blood and grime. The sight reminds me of the chaos we’ve just gone through. My whole body aches, every muscle reminding me of the intensity of the night. Yet, despite the pain, a small smile pulls at my lips. I wasn’t sure what would happen when I ran—I just wanted him to chase me, to claim me. I knew he would. It became more than that, though—like a game of cat and mouse, the thrill of fight or flight surging through both of us. By the end, I was spent, too exhausted to even keep my eyes open. Now, as Dante works the shampoo into my hair, a quiet moan slips from my lips. His fingers move with purpose, massaging my scalp, but his eyes—those hungry, intense eyes—stay locked on my body. The way

Luna POVI don’t bother changing out of my chemise, rushing to the door, but Dante stops me, handing me my bag. “Call her,” he says, his voice calm but commanding. “Will she answer if she's working?” I don’t know. I start dialing her number, my hands trembling as I wait. No answer. I try again. Still nothing. “She’s not answering,” I whisper, panic creeping back in. Dante guides me into the car, and I keep trying, over and over, but still, there’s no response. “Stay in the car. This is too public,” he warns, stepping out. I try the doors, but they’re locked. He locked me in the fucking car. Minutes later, he returns, his face grim. “She’s not at work,” he says. “We’re heading to her apartment. Give me the keys.” I grip the keys tightly, unwilling to let him go in alone. “No,” I snap. “You’re not going in there and scaring her!” He sighs, reaching for the keys. I fight back, kicking at him, determined to go with him. “You’re going to get hurt,” he warns, his voice sharp. “Just g

Dante POVSasha’s eyes flare with frustration. ”So while she stays, and you continue to obsess over her, what? We just keep working with no real leadership? Just running at risk?” I glare at her. “Risk? Are you joking? Name one fucking time you’ve been at risk, Sasha! Once! Tell me when you’ve been in danger here. The guys are still here, watching over everything like they always do.” “That’s not the point!” she shouts, her frustration palpable. “People have noticed, Dante. They know you’re distracted. They know your mind is somewhere else. You’re not as untouchable as you think. Anyone could make a move now because they see you’re occupied. You’re vulnerable. Jamie’s right—you need to stop this obsession before it destroys everything you’ve built.” My patience snaps. I slam my hands down on the desk, standing up. ”Luna is not an obsession,” I growl, my voice low and dangerous. She’s more than that. She’s a fucking addiction. She’s part of me, fused into my very being. There’s no s