All Chapters of Beneath the Whip: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

JUDY’S POVThat night, I replayed the conversation with Chris repeatedly in my head, dissecting every word. Was I too harsh? Did I let my emotions get the best of me? The questions swirled endlessly, but no matter how I tried to soften the edges, one truth remained clear: Chris needed to hear what I said. Every word, every accusation was justified. For far too long, I had been caught in the emotional chaos he created, subjected to his whims, his anger, and his misplaced guilt. It was about time he faced the consequences of his actions, just as I had.Yes, his actions against Katarina were bold, even commendable. Exposing her cruelty and taking her down was a victory for everyone she had tormented, myself included. But it didn’t erase the pain Chris caused me. It didn’t undo the humiliation of being dragged into the centre of a storm that wasn’t mine to begin with. Moreover, it certainly didn’t absolve him of the careless way he had treated me—vacillating between moments of kindness

JUDY’S POV“Judy… we need to talk.”The voice startled me. I turned to see Chris standing there, his usually stoic face softened by something I couldn’t quite place. We hadn’t exchanged more than a few scathing words in the last two weeks, and now here he was, standing in the library, speaking softly as if we were old friends.“We have nothing to say to each other, Chris,” I replied coldly, returning my attention to the bookshelves. My fingers traced the spines absent-mindedly as I tried to mask the anger bubbling beneath my calm façade.“I’m sorry for having hurt you, Judy.”I froze mid-motion, my hand hovering over a book. My heart skipped a beat. Was I hearing things, or had Chris Stanley actually apologised?I turned to face him, my expression carefully neutral, though my mind was racing. Chris didn’t apologise—not to anyone, and definitely not to me. And yet, here he was, standing in the quiet sanctuary of the library, offering a genuine apology.He took a step closer, his voic

JUDY’S POVOne evening, Chris approached me, his steps slow and weighted, as if he bore the burdens of his entire world. His usual composure and confidence were absent, replaced by an unfamiliar tension etched across his face.The air between us felt heavy, thick with unspoken emotions, like the charged silence before a storm. As he stood before me, his hesitance only heightened the sense of unease creeping into the space we shared.When he finally spoke, his voice was low, yet laden with an emotion I couldn’t immediately pinpoint—was it fear? Anger? Desperation? Or perhaps a mix of all three.“Are you really planning to leave me?” he asked, his words striking like a blunt force, resonating with a raw vulnerability I hadn’t expected.I froze. My heart hammered in my chest, and I felt as though his piercing gaze pinned me in place. How did he know? I had been meticulous, keeping my plans quiet, discreet. Was he stalking me? Had someone betrayed my confidence? Either way, I couldn’t le

CHRIS’ POVWhen I learned Judy was trying to leave me, it felt as though the ground had been yanked out from under me. A part of me wanted to believe it wasn’t true, that this was just my overthinking spiraling into paranoia, but deep down, I knew. The signs were there—the quiet distance in her gaze, the hesitation in her touch, the moments she slipped away, as if carrying a secret she couldn’t share.Rage ignited within me, fierce and blinding. How could she even think about leaving? After everything we had been through, after all I had sacrificed and all we had built together. Yet beneath the anger lurked something far more fragile—fear. Fear of losing her. Fear of being alone again. Fear of facing the darkest parts of myself without the one person who made them bearable.When I confronted her, I could feel the words clawing at my throat, raw and unfiltered. “Are you leaving me?” My voice had been low, yet very harsh, trembling with a mix of anger and desperation I couldn’t cont

JUDY’S POVThe days on the farm brought a surprising calm to our relationship, like the first signs of spring after a long, harsh winter. Out here, away from the noise and chaos of the city, we found a rhythm that felt natural. Chris seemed lighter, more at ease, and for the first time in a long while, I felt like we were beginning to understand each other again.One evening, as the sun dipped low and bathed the fields in a warm, golden light, we sat together on the porch, reminiscing. The memory came up naturally, an old story we had nearly forgotten; weekends spent on this very farm with Chris’ father when we were younger.“I can still see him,” Chris said softly, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “Standing by the barn, telling us how to hold the tools properly, even though we never got it right.”I chuckled, the memory vivid in my mind. “And how he would laugh when you would pretend to get it wrong just to make me feel better about messing up.”Chris smiled faintly, but the expressio