His After The Heartbreak (BL)-Chapter 153: Ooooh Fuck!!!

Chapter 153- Oooh Fuck!!!

Declan's POV

She blinked, clearly shocked at how fast I snapped.

Good. She needed to be shocked. She needed to understand that every action has a price.

If only she had never fallen for that bastard David... if she hadn't opened her legs for him... Tyler would still be here. He wouldn't have walked out that door.

Now everything is broken. And whose fault is it?

Hers.

I swallowed my pride and gave her words I didn't even mean. And she forgave me, thinking I've changed.

Thinking I've become a better man.

How stupid can one woman be?

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She thought I changed?

She thought I wanted peace?

No. I never changed. I never will.

Everything I did was just to get Tyler back. Because once she forgives me, Tyler will too. He'll think, "Wow, Dad is trying," and then he'll start bonding with me.

He'll come closer.

He'll call me Dad again.

He'll start listening to me.

I'll mold him into the perfect son—my son.

That was the plan.

But now, that plan is ruined.

All because of that bloody, useless bitch—Beatrice.

So now, Plan B.

We have to go look for Tyler.

At least there's a benefit to that—if I find him myself, he'll see how hard I looked for him. He'll see that I didn't sleep. He'll see that I didn't rest. He'll be proud of me.

That might be enough to pull him back in.

He'll come home.

Back to me.

Back to where he belongs.

I smiled to myself as the thoughts rolled in.

Time to go.

But first—there's something I have to do.

David.

That piece of trash.

He has to die.

But I can't just kill him anyhow. No. He needs to feel pain first.

I need a revenge that will make even the devil stop and blink.

Should I drown him?

Put a gun to his head and paint the walls with his brains?

Or maybe I'll keep him alive—just long enough to watch me kill his beautiful wife.

Yes...

That sounds perfect.

Let him feel what I feel.

Let him beg.

Let him break.

Then I'll kill him too.

That... that is the kind of revenge I deserve.

Let me make one thing very clear—this is not about Beatrice.

I'm not doing this for her. I don't care about her pain or her tears. Beatrice is the least of my worries.

The only reason I want to kill David—and anyone who helped him—is because he betrayed me. Not her. Me.

That bastard knew I gave her the money. He knew it was mine. And what did he do? He put on his stupid, fake mask of love, whispered sweet nothings in her ear, made her feel special... and then stabbed her in the back and ran off with my money.

That is betrayal.

And the thing about betrayal is this—it deserves punishment. Real punishment.

If David hadn't betrayed her, Tyler would still be here. That's the truth no one wants to say out loud. That's the truth Beatrice is too blind to see.

Tyler left because of the mess David created.

So yes, David caused this.

And because of that, I'm going to kill him. So in his next life—or in hell—he'll understand one thing:

The price for betrayal... is death.

With that thought in my head, I was about to open the door totally forgetting that Beatrice had even asked me where I was going. Her words meant nothing. Her voice was just noise in my ear.

She ran across the room and stood in front of it.

Blocking my path.

I stared at her. My jaw clenched.

"Move," I said. My voice was low but dangerous. "I have somewhere important to be. I have a task to carry out."

She didn't move.

"Beatrice, move the fuck out of my front before I lose my temper."

Still, she stood there—like a wall I didn't ask for.

Why is she like this?

Why does she act like a bitch every time?

Does she want me to choke her?

Because if I do it this time—God help her—she's not going to survive it.

I took a step closer to her.

"It seems you're not scared of dying, Beatrice," I said, staring straight into her eyes.

"I am scared of dying, Declan," she replied, voice shaking. "If that's what you want to hear, then yes, I'm scared. But I can't just let you go without me. We need to find Tyler together, please."

"Together?" I let out a short laugh. "And who told you I'm going to find Tyler?"

She blinked.

"Or were you deaf when I said I had people to deal with? And by deal, I mean kill. Or do you just enjoy stressing the little sanity I have left?"

She shook her head quickly, looking up at me like she was trying to read my next move.

"You told me to go my way," I said. "You said we should both look for Tyler in our own ways. Now I'm respecting that decision, and you should too."

But no—she wasn't letting it go. She was still standing there, still blocking the door like she had a right to stop me.

Isn't she supposed to be scared?

She should be shaking by now—after everything she's seen me do.

But no. Her mind was somewhere else. All she could think about was Tyler. Her sweet little son.

She didn't care about blood. She didn't care about death. All she cared about was getting to that boy.

"Declan, please," she begged. "Don't leave without me. I want to come with you, so we can find him together. So he can see that we both care. That we both want him back."

That part caught me.

Because it wasn't a bad idea.

If Tyler sees both of us looking for him, maybe he'll start to believe that I'm changing... that I care. Maybe he'll start to come back to me slowly. Maybe, just maybe, he'll call me Dad again.

I looked her up and down.

She was still in her robe.

"And this is how you plan to follow me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

She looked down at herself and shook her head quickly. "Give me a few minutes—I'll change now."

I didn't reply. I just stepped aside and watched her run toward the stairs.

But then she stopped.

"Why are you stopping?" I asked, confused.

She turned her head and looked back at me. "Because I feel like the moment I climb those stairs, you're going to disappear."

I didn't deny it. She wasn't wrong.

She bit her bottom lip, then made a decision right there in front of me.

"If that's the case, then I'll just change here," she said softly.

And before I could ask what the hell she meant, she dropped the robe.

Just like that.

She stood there, completely bare, with nothing on—just her skin, and her pink nipples staring at me like they wanted to be touched.