All Chapters of Stalked By My Boyfriends Best Friend: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Dante POV I sit back and look at Alex’s lifeless body. Over the years, I’ve had women come from Brian, and Alex was always one of the men they mentioned. He caused psychological issues so deep within some of those women they won’t ever be the same. Now he’s dead, and it’s at my hands. But none of that feels like a victory—not with Luna’s blood still on the floor, not with the thought of what could have happened if I’d been just a little too late. I didn’t realize it was Alex over Luna until it was nearly too late, and now, his words won’t stop haunting me. Did she turn her darkest moments into fantasies? Into pleasure? Alex’s twisted games still have their claws in her, don’t they? The thought makes my stomach churn. Alex and I were always compared because we like the same things—the chase, the power—but I’m nothing like him. I would never enjoy it if the woman didn’t want it. In fact, the idea of someone hating what we did and us still doing it, sickens me. But Alex? He thrived o

Dante POV I make my way to the office, slamming the door shut behind me. Sitting down, I try to focus, but my mind is still spinning, still churning with everything that happened. I can’t stop thinking about her—about what she did, about how reckless she was. But more than that, I can’t stop thinking about how much I still need her, even now, even after everything. It’s fucking unbearable. A searing pain grips my chest, sharper than any knife, as the realization crashes over me—I have never truly loved anyone until her. Until Luna. And now, she’s ripped me apart, tearing at the very core of my being, piece by agonizing piece. The rawness of it, the unbearable weight of that truth, crushes me from the inside out. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. The agony is so consuming that I’m powerless to fight it. I try to push it down, to bury it beneath my anger, but the pain flares hotter, stronger, until there’s nothing left but a burning need to do something. Anything. With a primal scre

Luna POVAs we continue cleaning, Callum picks up a stack of files and tosses them on the desk. “You know, watching over the women here, it’s not just a job for me,” he says after a pause, his voice low but steady. “It gives me purpose, being second to Dante. It means something, especially after everything that happened with my sister.” I nod, feeling the weight of his words. “I’ve noticed how much you care,” I say softly. “You don’t just see it as protection. It’s more personal.” He offers me a small, appreciative smile, running a hand through his hair as he clears off more debris. “Yeah, it is. When Dante started this place, I knew it was where I needed to be. We built this together, with Heaven and Hell as the heart of it. The women here... they’ve been through hell, just like my sister. It feels right, making sure they don’t have to face that kind of horror ever again.” I nod, feeling a deeper connection to Callum now. There’s a strength in him, a quiet dedication to making sur

Dante POVI get to the spot where I usually find solace. My haven. But today, even this place feels hollow. As soon as I stop the bike, I collapse to the ground. My body feels heavy, weighed down by everything I’ve been carrying for so long. What would usually take hours of careful riding to reach felt like it came in minutes. But it doesn’t matter. Nothing feels right anymore. My life is crumbling around me. Jamie warned me. He told me Luna was an obsession, and that I needed to keep my distance. I didn’t listen. In fact, I fucking told him myself that she was my obsession. How stupid can I be? It feels like every part of me has been ripped apart, burned to ash, and scattered in the wind. I can’t figure out how to put the pieces of myself back together again. The careful, cool, and calculated person I used to be? He’s gone. Dead and buried. Now, it’s like emotions are driving every single thing I do. And that’s not me. I never let my emotions take the lead, yet here I am, letting

Luna POV I kick and squirm, but his grip is ironclad. “You can consider yourself getting three extra spanks for running. Even if it was fun to chase you,” he growls, his lips brushing against my ear. I swing my head back, trying to hit him, but he easily pushes me forward, keeping me pinned. My body bucks against him, but it’s useless. He’s too strong. As he bursts through another door, the room falls silent. I’m too busy fighting to notice the eyes turning toward us, too consumed by my desire to escape. But the click of metal cuffs around my wrists makes me pause. My arms are pulled up above my head, leaving me dangling helplessly in front of him. “Shit,” I mutter under my breath, glaring at him. I'm back in the same room again, the one with the spanking bench and bondage chair I've previously been tied to. The swingers club. Dante grins, amusement dancing in his eyes as he secures the restraints. “You wanted to be punished and fucked in front of everyone, right? Then you punch