Divorcing My Husband Over His Stepsister's Secret novel Chapter 220

Anna’s POV

er his stepsister’s Secret

The sound of running water from the bathroom kept me awake.

I stared at the ceiling, wondering why Blake insisted on sleeping in the same bed with me if he was just going to handle his needs alone in the bathroom

Was it the novelty? The thrill of experiencing something new with me that kept him so possessive yet distant?

I couldn’t figure out why he refused to have sex with me now. Was it another power play? Another way to make me feel unwanted?

My body was so exhausted that my brain had finally stopped churning. I was done thinking about it–whatever, fine, I didn’t care anymore.

I must have dozed off because I was startled half–awake when the mattress dipped.

Blake slid under the covers, his body still slightly damp from his shower. He pulled me against his chest, the cool moisture from his skin seeping through my nightgown.

“Darling, he whispered, his breath warm against my ear, I’m going to give you a gift soon. You’ll love it.”

“Another villa?” I mumbled, barely conscious.

He chuckled, then gently bit the skin between my shoulder blades. “Not exactly.”

“Great, thanks,” I muttered, already drifting back to sleep. “Bedtime…”

Even in my half–conscious state, something bothered me about our situation. It felt wrong–unofficial, improper. Just more empty gestures.

I was sure his “gift” would be some expensive trinket, the kind men buy to pacify women. Not a real commitment to rebuilding what we’d lost.

As I slipped further into sleep, I didn’t catch what he whispered next.

Sunlight blazed across my face the next morning. I squinted, realizing we hadn’t even closed the curtains last night.

No wonder Blake had been so eager to move to the window–the sneaky bastard had planned this.

I turned over, surprised to find Blake still asleep beside me. He never slept in.

His profile was half–shadowed where the sunlight carved across his face, making him frown slightly in his sleep.

I raised my hand to shield his eyes from the light.

His fingers instantly wrapped around my wrist. “Good morning, darling,” he said, eyes still closed. “Feeling sorry for me? Wanted to let me sleep a little longer?”

I tried to pull away. “No, I was about to slap you. Just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”

Blake laughed, using my captured hand to pat his own cheek. “Like this?”

I yanked my hand back like I’d been shocked. This casual intimacy–I couldn’t handle it.

Something in Blake’s eyes dimmed. He sighed, then leaned over me, his lips brushing mine in a soft kiss that quickly deepened.

His hands moved down my body, remembering exactly where to touch, how to make me respond. My body betrayed me, arching better judgment.

Then he stopped. Just fucking stopped.,

d him despite my

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Chapter 220

**I can wait for you, he said, his voice mough. But don’t make me wait too long. He pulled back, plating down at me You Kinng YA WA

I stared at the ceiling, my heart racing. There had been a time when I’d done everything possible to get close to him,

When I’d been the one teasing, tempting, driving him crazy. I’d been more forward than any proper socialite should be With Blake, I’d ne restraint.

“Blake, you don’t need to torture yourself like this,” I said quietly.

He sighed. “Anna, you’ve never understood me.” He got out of bed and left.

Maybe I didn’t understand him. Or maybe I just didn’t care to try anymore.

How long would this attentive version of Blake last? Certainly not forever. Nothing between us ever seemed to last.

I used to dream about growing old with him. Now I didn’t dare imagine it–it wasn’t realistic.

Eventually, he’d realize he didn’t need me specifically. He’d find

omeone else, someone easier to control.

I needed to protect my heart, be ready to walk away when the

time came.

The door opened again. Blake returned carrying a tray loaded with food–toast, eggs, and a bowl of soup.

“Still in bed? Try my cooking,” he said proudly.

I sat up, staring. “You cooked this yourself?”

Instead of answering, he set the tray down and scooped me into his arms.

“Put me down!” I protested as he carried me to the chair by the window, then sat down with me in his lap.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, ignoring my squirming. “Martha doesn’t need to come while you’re here. I’ll cook for you, and when you’re out, I’ll grab

something quick.”

I was speechless. Martha had always cooked for Blake. He’d never so much as boiled water as far as I knew.

And what did “grab something quick” even mean for someone with his standards?

“No way!” I finally managed.

‘Why not?‘ He looked genuinely puzzled.

“I’m used to Martha’s cooking. Yours is probably awful-”

Before I could finish, Blake picked up the soup bowl, took a large sip, then kissed me.

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