Chapter 124 - Carston Williamson (1/2)

He shifted to his side, grabbing her waist in the process, and made her lie on his bare chest as both of them tried to catch their breaths.

Adam rubbed her bare back, his fingers drawing circles on her smooth, fair skin. He did not utter a single word, but listened to her breaths, which were becoming even as the seconds ticked by.

After a while, he shifted to his side, making Stella lie down on the mattress.

”I will be back in a minute or two.” He kissed her forehead before getting up. He grabbed his jeans which was lying on the floor and out it on and headed towards the bathroom.

He came back a couple of minutes later with a small wet towel in his hands. After sitting next to her, he wiped down her entire body. His every action was filled with tenderness.

He pressed a lingering kiss on her forehead. ”I am gonna go and take a quick shower. You must be tired, so you should sleep.” He spoke softly as he pulled up the duvet, covering her up to her neck.

”I will be back before you even know it.” He pressed a loud kiss against her swollen lips.

Stella hummed as she nodded her head. She was too tired to even say a yes. Her body didn't have an ounce of energy left.

Adam smiled at her and left the room.

When he returned after taking a shower, she was already asleep. Adam made his way towards the mattress and lied down quietly next to her. He moved under the covers and moved closer to her.

He kissed the crown of her head as he wrapped his hand around her waist.

”I don't know how I am going to keep myself in control now.” He muttered against her hair hair before closing his eyes.

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Back in Germany.

In Amsterdam, a man in his late forties or early fifties entered the quiet cemetery. He had a tall figure with broad build. Even though he was old, he had maintained himself and looked handsome.

His obsidian black eyes glinted under the dark sky. It was raining heavily, with thunder and lighting. He was holding a black umbrella above his head, while his other hand was holding a bouquet of red roses. He was clad in black from head to two, walking towards a certain tombstone with steady steps.

The man was none other than Carston Williamson, Taylor's father.

He stopped before the tombstone and kneeled before it, not bothering about his handmade suit. He took a handkerchief from the inside of his pocket and wiped the stone.