All Chapters of REBEL : THE DEADLY HIERESS: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

REBEL I folded my legs, arms wrapped around me, perched in the quiet corner of the hospital corridor as white walls closed in with a cold clinicalness I could not help but be trapped by. The antiseptic burned at my nostrils, but it was nothing compared to the storm inside me. Michael and Mex. My twins. My boys. Twins, and the world would never mistake one for the other. Michael, my seven-minute firstborn, had always ruled. Conscious. Sharp as a honed blade. There was something about his presence that deflated people—a deportment not acquired, a power not usurped. He did not walk; he made way. And his speech? Calculated. Pinpoint. Like his dad. And then there was Mex. Authoritative in his own right, but with a gentleness that disarmed more deeply. Where Michael cut through silence, Mex drifted into it. He smiled more broadly, laughed more easily, held the gaze longer. He didn't need to claim anything—he just was in a place of peace I never understood. Until this moment. When pea

DANIEL She resists for while but I'm too far gone to listen. She whispers "Stop" but I don't stop. My fingers finds their way to her clit, stroking her till she climaxes before slamming into her continously, leaving her no room for rejection, like a starved beast raging into her with no breaks, going at it for hours continously, orgasm after orgasm, like life would end if I wasn't in her because truly for me life ended without her. The silence in the suite isn't peaceful—it's tempestuous, the kind that's waiting for it to burst all over again. She won't speak. Not even look at me. Her back is facing me now, the elegant shape of her spine stiffening in defiance. I can still feel her lips on mine, the memory of her heat pressed against my face. And she's already elsewhere. Rebel. It was like existing in a world of grayscale without Rebel. The days blurred together—meetings, deals, conversations faceless—but each instant felt empty. I had power, riches, control. but it was all me

KLAUS It was a still night, but still had never been quiet for me. Not anymore. Not since the day Rebel went missing from his life, not since the day her scent went missing from every corner of his universe. And now, seven years later, silence fell heavy with ghosts. My ghosts. Our ghosts. I stayed at the balcony, clutching a glass of whiskey that I did not drink. I no longer drank it—the bitter liquor had ceased to sear the day she died. But the glass was still in my hand, out of habit. As with the stump-like ache of a lost limb so many years before, I kept holding things I could not let go of. When I next heard her name, I thought my brain was pulling its most vicious trick yet. But Daniel had sworn to it. Rebel was alive. Rebel had been alive all this while. And she had sons. Michael and Mex. Twins. I wasn't their father, but the way those boys stood in front of me, guarding and snapping, gave me all I needed to know. They belonged to them. She'd raised them into miniatu

REBEL After leaving Mex and Michael back home with Klaus, there was no conversation about the ordeal that didn't catch my attention The rain started before the lie did. Daniel had been calling incessantly but I just didn't pick up. I stood in the shade of the awning on the old café where I was to meet my mother and see the downpour cut the street into halves. The air had a strong smell of asphalt and forgotten memories. My phone tingled in my hand for the fifth time in two minutes or less. Unknown Number. I did not answer. I didn't need to because I know who the caller is. But then a shadow fell over me, dark and high enough to strike a hard pang twisting into my chest. Daniel. Suit crisp, tie loose, and eyes softer than I was expecting. "You weren't going to call me," he said, not a question. I shrugged. "I didn't think I had to." He stood there, jaw working, rain dripping off his hair. "You do now." A black SUV skidded to a stop across the street. Doors slammed o

ROBERT I shouldn't have left her like that. The second the door slammed behind Mia and me, the house felt thicker, as if her crying had soaked into the walls. I heard it even after we passed the midpoint on the block. Hell, I could even feel it. But I walked on anyway. That's just the sort of thing I always used to do with my messes: walk away, especially from ones that didn't involve bloodshed where they landed on the floor. Mia glared at me from the passenger seat, biting her split lip, looking at me that funny way of hers, like a cat holding herself in check waiting for the right moment to spring. She never said anything. She didn't need to. She'd won. Again. And I? I wasn't quite sure whether I'd lost or if I'd just cemented Louisa's suspicions. Eight years ago, I took her out of a rehab center, half dead, skin hanging off bone, eyes dead, no glint. I didn't question her why. I recognized that broken. I'd worn it myself more times than I was willing to admit. Rescuing