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Beg For Me, My Love

Chapter 4 

Word Count: 711    |    Released on: 09/07/2025

rained from her eyes, replaced by a confusion so profound it looked like a physical injury. Then

whispered, her voice breakin

ering with every lie I told. "I'm tired of being

as the most difficult, and most despicable, thing I had ever done. I walked

lly understood that my act of "saving" her was the ultimate act of arrogance. I had denied her a

it. It buzzed again. And again. With a groan, I picked it up. Unknown number.

ered.

voice, frantic and familiar. Not

What's

"She's... she's had too much to drink. We're at The Blue Note, and she won't leave.

ld. The Blue No

g. "No, not asking. She's demanding. She keeps saying,

ed. All I could hear was t

keys and jacket. "Don't let her out of your

against my ribs. It didn't matter what she called me.

I spotted them immediately. In a corner booth, Sophia was slumped against the leather seat, arguing with Sarah. Surrounding

, primal rage w

think. I

g strides and shoved the guy's

irked when he saw me. "Who th

to walk away," I said, my

what?" one of them chal

k against the wall. The second guy threw a clumsy punch, which I ducked easily, driving my fist into his

" I repeated, my e

ed his friends and practicall

my focus was entirely on her. I turned back to the booth. Sophia was staring at me, her

trange, mocking smile on her

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Beg For Me, My Love
Beg For Me, My Love
“The steady hum of my tattoo gun was usually my sanctuary, but today, it couldn't drown out the screaming numbers on Olivia' s medical bill-a crushing reminder that my artistic integrity wouldn't save my sister. Then the bell above the door chimed, and she walked back into my life, a ghost from a past I' d desperately tried to outrun. Sophia Davis, the woman I' d chosen to brutally abandon five years ago to protect her from my "unworthy" existence, now stood in my humble studio, elegant and cold, looking like she' d stepped straight off a magazine cover. She didn't come to reminisce; she came to collect, dropping a blank check on Olivia's bill and declaring, "I want to see you beg, Ethan." My pride demanded I refuse, but the image of Olivia's frail face forced the humiliating words from my lips: "Please, Sophia, I need this job. I... I'll do anything." She watched, her eyes gleaming with triumph, before labeling me her "trophy artist," a personal possession to be controlled. I thought I understood her cold, calculated revenge-until a late-night call from her best friend led me to Sophia, drunk and vulnerable, muttering, "Get Ethan. He's my dog. He has to come when I call." As I carried her home, the ice queen slipped, hinting at a pain just as deep as mine, and a lingering desire to see me.”
1 Introduction2 Chapter 13 Chapter 24 Chapter 35 Chapter 46 Chapter 57 Chapter 68 Chapter 79 Chapter 810 Chapter 911 Chapter 1012 Chapter 1113 Chapter 1214 Chapter 13