Chapter 128 Boring sex
Chapter 128 Boring sex
Chapter 128: Boring sex
Roy smiled at Inna but he wasn’t seeing Inna, he saw Coco.
Suddenly he dipped his fingers into Inna’s pussy and Inna let out a loud mourn.
“Yes Roy…please.” Inna cried out.
Roy took charge and lowered Inna’s pussy to his mouth, softly biting her clit and kissing it. Inna was moaning loudly.
Meanwhile Claudia and Tems were at the door outside, smiling as they heard moans. Slowly, they walked out.
Roy opened Inna’s legs wider and buried his face in her pussy. He was eating her pussy with precision, muttering Coco’s name.
Inna pulled away, tears rolling down her cheeks.
Her mind betrayed her. She saw Coco’s face instead. Not angry, not sharp, calm, controlled.
The Coco who used to move through rooms like she owned the future. The Coco who treated Inna kindly when she didn’t have to. Who corrected staff gently. Who spoke to Roy with confidence and familiarity, not fear.
Inna swallowed.
She saw Roy and Coco together, standing shoulder to shoulder at events, moving like one unit. The way Roy listened when Coco spoke. The way he softened around her. The way their arguments still carried warmth underneath the tension. They looked like something finished, something complete.
She remembered Coco laughing once, handing her a cup of tea, telling her not to be nervous in the house. “You’re safe here,” Coco had said. “This place doesn’t bite.”
Inna’s chest tightened.
She looked back at Roy. Even now, his face was drawn toward that memory, not toward her. She knew it. She felt it. Whatever this was supposed to be, it wasn’t love. It wasn’t even real. It was just her desire.
Her hands trembled.
“This isn’t me,” she whispered to the empty room. “What am I doing?”
Her cheeks burned with shame. Not just for what she was about to do, but for allowing herself to be convinced it was necessary. For letting Claudia’s voice echo louder than her own conscience. For standing in a space that belonged to another woman and pretending she fit there.
She stood abruptly.
Her movements were rushed now, panicked. She pulled her clothes back on with shaking hands, buttons missed, fabric crooked. She didn’t look back at Roy again. She couldn’t.
She grabbed the door handle and paused, breathing hard.
“I’m sorry, Roy,” she whispered, though she wasn’t sure who it was meant for. “I’m sorry, Coco.”
Then she ran. The door opened and closed softly behind her, leaving Roy alone on the bed, weak, unmoving, unaware of how close the night had come to changing everything.
Georgiana stepped out of the office building with her phone pressed to her ear, her heels clicking sharply against the concrete. Her expression was tight, annoyed, her mind still replaying her father’s last words from earlier the other day. Disappointment. Distance. Control.
“Call me back,” she said into the phone and ended the call abruptly.
“Still trying to impress him?”
Georgiana stopped cold.
Vill stood a few steps away, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed, like he had nowhere else to be. His presence alone felt invasive.
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice clipped.
He smiled faintly. “Relax. I’m not here to fight you.”
She scoffed. “Then you’re wasting my time.”
“I can help you win your father’s heart,” Vill said calmly.
That stopped her. She turned fully toward him. “How?”
He shrugged. “That’s the easy part.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And why would you help me?”
Vill stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Think of it as a loan.”
“A loan?” she repeated.
“I give you something valuable now,” he said. “Later, I collect a favor.”
Georgiana hesitated. “What kind of favor?”
He smiled again, wider this time. “We’ll talk about that when the time comes.”
She studied him carefully. “You expect me to trust you?”
“No,” Vill replied. “I expect you to want power more than certainty.”
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, she said, “Okay. I’m listening.”
Vill leaned in slightly. “Your father never got over Angel.”
Georgiana stiffened. “Angel is dead.”
Vill shook his head slowly. “She was hiding.”
Her breath caught. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying Angel Kaave wasn’t as dead as everyone thought,” Vill said. “And I’m saying someone discovered that.”
Georgiana’s pulse quickened. “Who?”
Vill met her eyes. “You.”
She laughed sharply. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” Vill asked. “Imagine how your father would look at you if he believed you uncovered the truth. If he believed you did what no one else could.”
Georgiana’s throat went dry. “And Angel?”
Vill didn’t flinch. “Taken care of.”
Her stomach twisted. “You killed her?”
He shrugged again. “Yes.”
She stared at him, shaken. “And you want me to take credit.”
“Yes,” Vill said simply. “I’m willing to give you all of it.”
Her knees felt weak.
“My father would never forgive me if he knew the truth,” she whispered.
“That’s why he won’t,” Vill replied. “He’ll only know what you show him.”
Georgiana’s hands trembled. “And what do you get?”
“Later,” Vill said. “Much later.”
She looked up at him, fear and ambition colliding in her chest.
Slowly, she lowered herself to her knees in front of him.
“Please,” she said, her voice breaking. “Don’t change your mind. I’ll do anything. Anything you want.”
Vill looked down at her, satisfied. He said nothing.