Divorcing My Husband Over His Stepsister's Secret novel Chapter 122

Chapter 122

Anna’s POV:

Liss–it was punishment. The metallic ta

my split lip.

if it was from his wounds or

I struggled to breathe as Blake held me captive in what had to be the worst kits wed shared in four years of

I felt a sudden, terrifying tralization wash over me: flake was using last ounce of strength to control me. Even injured, even vulnerable, he couldn’t let go of his need for dominance.

Somewhere in the suffocating silence of his luxury car, I understood what had happened to me. I’d been trained by Blake Wright- conditioned like a pet to respond to his touch, his voice, his commands

Every “first” we’d shared–out first dinner, first dance, first kiss, first fight in his private plane–had slowly rewritten my understanding of love. He’d taught me that love meant meeting halficay, a mutual journey toward each other.

And now, I didn’t know how to refuse him anymore..

I stopped fighting back but couldn’t stop the thoughts racing through my mind. “Does he not realize I know about him and Scarlett? How can he have the audacity to say he won’t divorce me?”

wanted to confront him, throw the truth in his face, but the fever burning through my body made everything hazy. Every ton cruel to speak aloud. I didn’t yet understand that my silence was the loudest expression of my rage.

word felt

1 pushed Blake away and continued cleaning his wounds with cold detachment. The first aid kit from his car contained enough supplies to patch him up temporarily, but he’d need proper medical intention soon. Not that I cared much about that right now

“Save your strength,” I said flatly. “You need to be alive to keep up your act

I’d reached my conclusion: he was lying to me, again.

I wasn’t a good actress–every emotion I’d shown Blake over these months had been painfully genuine. But he was a master manipulator. The way he could switch between tender husband and calculating businessman had once impressed me. Now it just

As I pressed a bandage against the gash on his side, I must have pushed too hard. Blake let out a pained grunt, his breath catching,

“Sorry, did that hurt? I didn’t mean to, I said, my voice hollow even to my own ears.

Blake actually laughed, though it came out strained. Even now, he was calculating his next move. The predatory look in his eyes hadn’t diminished despite his injuries.

He captured my hand that was pressing against his wound and leaned closer. The interior of the car suddenly felt smaller, the air between us charged with something dangerous.

| did mean it,” he said, his voice dropping to that low register that used to make my heart race.

His body radiated feverish heat, burning against my ice–cold heart. He kissed my forehead, my eyelids, finding all he’d mapped over years of intimacy.

nsitive spots

His hands moved with practiced precision, brushing against my neck in that way that always made me shiver,

I knew his kisses by heart–every pattern, every pressure point. But now they felt wrong, tainted by guilt and betrayal.

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Chapter 122

Seth’s words echoed in my mild: Blake was planning to have children with another woman. With thought made bile rise in my throat,

His own stepsister. The

1 felt helpless, unable to push Ben away or refuse him. My body responded to his touch even as my mind recoiled. Four years of mariage had created pathways of desire that my anger couldn’t completely override

Was this the price of loving first? Was I doomed to always be the one who cared more, hurt more? I remembered how I’d fallen fe Blake at first sight, how I’d lifealized him, put him on a pedestal. I’d given him all the power in our relationship from the very beginning.

Tears escaped my eyes before I could stop theni.

They felt like volcanic magn against my skin, burning with the heat of accumulated rage. I hadn’t know I could contain this much anger, this much pain, until it started spilling out of m

“I truly hate you,” I whispered, my voice cracking under the weight of truth

1 had lost completely. In the game of love and power that had defined our marriage, Blake Wright had beaten me at every turn. Even now, knowing what I knew, feeling what I felt, my body still betrayed me by responding to him.

Blake froze at my tears, a

tears, a rough cough escaping his throat.

Something flickered in his eyes–surprise, perhaps, or even hurt. He seemed about to speak when his phone rang, shattering moment. The ringtone cut through the heavy atmosphere like a knife.