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Please continue reading if you’ve read the story starter – a very long Chapter 1 – and you’re ready to dive into the story with me.

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About the story: (short description. Click here for longer)

“Let Me Love You” is a tale of love and sacrifice and a poignant story of self-discovery, celebrating the human capacity to find love in the most unlikely of circumstances.

Please enjoy the current WIP of Iris and El. This will be published freely up to a point, like in the old days, and then the entire book will be posted for full download. I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. And don’t forget to check out the companion stories. (Wicked Chances, Dreams of Reality, The Convenient Wife, The Other Side of Love, She Works Hard for the Money & Ravenous)

Enjoy, Your Author, Sylvia Hubbard

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Read more: Let Me Love You – Chapter 38✍🏾📚❤️ #SylLit #WIP #livestory 📖💓 #marriedwife #demandedconsensual #darkromance

Like I said, I don’t know how to explain Blaque, but her father’s mental sickness possesses her. Someone asked about the Heart family tree cause there are cousins, siblings, etc. If you want to know what happened in Chicago that Salacious and El are talking about, please read Emperor’s Heart /Addiction.

Now I hope the timeline in El’s POV makes sense to you. I was not going to relieve 3 chapters again, but you needed to know what prompted him to call and then all then things he found out to open himself up to Iris as such.

Passion like that needed a reason, in my book.

Click here for the partial Family tree. A reader put this together a long while ago, and then I updated another one. If you guys know more than me, please fill me in. I’d love to get help filling all this in.

Currently, we’re at 88k and we still have a lot to figure out. Another reader also asked was I bringing King Heart in this one. I say let’s not get ahead of ourselves. That’s asking a lot and we’ll have to see. Or I’ll Have to see if I wanna stress myself out.

You’ll have to keep reading to find the answer to that question. Thank you for all the reads, this is so much fun!

Your author, Sylvia Hubbard

The old man’s voice was harsh and cruel. “You begged me for help raising the kid after Violet died, and I asked you for one thing in return. One thing, and you couldn’t do it.”

“I never wanted your bastard. You got it because you needed something to hold Iris.”

“How the fuck else was I supposed to keep her? When Violet couldn’t get pregnant, I had to do something – ANYTHING! And you know we tried everything, but even Violet’s mother barely carried her. Once I didn’t have Violet to manipulate her, we still needed Iris to continue to get the money to fund the research, you idiot! You promised me the one thing I desired, and you failed! You’re worthless like the chlamydia whore who birthed you. By the way, did you find Violet’s books? She wrote all the shit down?”

“I tore up the whole damn house,” Dwayne responded with incredible frustration. “I couldn’t find one damn book or journal.”

“I’ll search my house again. Violet could’ve left it there somewhere. Fuck! Why the fuck she have to die?! This makes it so damn hard for me. Violet took down all my notes so I could concentrate on the science! I can’t start back up again.” 

El wanted to shoot the old narcissist in the face. This man used people like a game. 

Wretchedly, Dwayne said, “Knowing what we know, it’s understandable. Even Violet said before she died, you ask for too much. Iris is-“

The old man growled, “Get your balls untucked, Dwayne, and stop sounding like a bitch. Go to Iris and get her ass pregnant. I don’t care if you have to rape her every night. I want a real grandson.”

“What if it comes out a girl?”

“I’ll kill it and bury them where we did the other ones. I don’t need another girl.” He slammed his fist on the table. “I want a damn boy. And hopefully, one with a damn backbone.”

El needed to rest his hands somewhere so they wouldn’t touch the table, enabling him to lean back some more without people seeing the tight, white-knuckled fist he was making. Jamming his hands in his coat, he felt a winter hat that must’ve been left in there since he’d last worn the coat. After putting it on his head to further conceal his identity, he continued to listen.

Desperately, Dwayne suggested, “Can’t it be someone else who gets her pregnant? That boss? We’ll get Iris to seduce him and get a baby from him, and then-“

“I don’t want no light-skinned baby. They are weaker than you. That boy is rich because he knows which side of the aisle to stay on. Fuck that. Get her! Fuck her, but make sure you get to that big money the half-white boy got so we can finish the research up.”

“Please don’t make me. I have to pretend she’s Violet just to get near her. I get sick touching her.” Dwayne sounded like he was about to throw up, mixed with a large sob. “I can’t fuck her! I haven’t fucked her in months! Whenever I look at her… please don’t ask that of me, Pops. Honestly, I’ve been faking like I finish in her so she wouldn’t tell you, but you should-“

There was jostling in the booth as if the old man had physically lashed out at Dwayne. “So you’re going to make me do it myself?” the old man hissed. 

El was starting to get sick from this conversation. 

Maniacally, the old man sneered, “I’ll get the baby whether you’re on board or not, but if you ain’t on board, I’ll make your life a living hell, and after I get what I want from her, I’ll do her in. I could give a fuck that she’s my daughter.”

“I’m out,” Dwayne announced. “I ain’t doing this shit no more.”

“That debt is much as yours as it is mine.”

“That half-cracker boss promised to pay it off,” Dwayne announced triumphantly.

“Didn’t you hear? King doesn’t want any money. He wants my research. All of it, and he plans on holding Iris hostage to get it. We need to grab her and the boy before he does and find those damn journals. Otherwise, he’ll have us by the balls, and I sure as hell not trying to be under his thumb, and you don’t want to either.” 

Dwayne gurgled a curse dejectedly.

El didn’t need to hear anymore. Slipping out of the bar, he quickly made his way back to his car and drove away from the dive like hell on fire was on his ass. 

Once he arrived at the hotel, stripping off all the clothes to throw away, he thought he’d call Iris to warn her, but just thinking about her being clean from Dwayne for so long and knowing she was prime and ready to be touched, what came out of his mouth was not what he meant to say. 

And then the minx invited him over. Damn! He just wanted to smell her. He never meant for it to go that far, but damn, he didn’t regret one moment. Knowing where she came from and what she had to deal with, El wanted to wipe every horrible moment off her memory and give her at least one night of pleasure.

There was so much to unpack with her, but he would wait until Chicago to speak to her about everything. Having her away from the city would be best so she couldn’t run out of hysteria and end up being captured, or she could have time to soak up everything and help him plan a safe living environment for her and the boy.

When he’d gotten in the car after leaving Iris, it was his habit to reach over to get his vapor rub, but El stopped himself because he still had the scent of Iris over his lip, and he didn’t want to wipe it away or cover it up. The whole ride home, his member had been at full attention, remembering the entire night. 

As he headed to the hotel, he sent an audio message to Salacious. His negotiation skills would be handy on the street better than they ever were in the board room. 

“You don’t owe me shit, but tell your cousin I know what he wants. I’ll keep it safe if he protects it at all costs.” El saw Clem’s map and added, “I believe I can also get him the research if he gives me a week.”

When he returned to his hotel room, El immediately knew someone had been in there. To the normal eye, nothing was out of place, and whoever had been in the room had been careful to return things to their spots, but El had specifically left things in certain areas to make sure he would know things had been moved. 

“You can come out now,” he ordered. “I can smell your leather a mile away.”

Nothing moved for a long moment before a lean, built black woman in a brown leather skin-tight outfit with ankle-length boots walked out of the bedroom as if he were in the wrong hotel room. Her midnight eyes were slits because that was the only way she always looked at people, and the permanent snarl on her lips never wavered. After all these years, she kept her hair short or with a fake long black ponytail. Today, she wore it short, straight in a slight bob with a sharp middle part. 

At five foot nine, being an inch below El, Blaque Heart was a force to be reckoned with. Her body was a weapon, but she was also skilled in hand-to-hand combat. She had eight black belts and was an ace long-distance shooter, but she wanted to be on every continent in the world for her mercenary work. 

Yet no one alive had ever seen her up close in the past fifteen years. El was an exception. The black-hearted vixen liked to fuck with his things or “borrow’ some bullets when she was in town. And even though her entire family wanted to kill her because she decided to continue her deceased father’s patricide mission, nothing seemed to bother her. 

What always bothered her was what was hers, which stayed hers, and El had a feeling Blaque was there because of Iris. He’d thought he felt Blaque’s presence when he awoke in the morning in the converted shed with Iris, but when Clem walked in, pushed that gnawing feeling aside. 

“She’ll be dead by midnight,” Blaque sneered.

“Don’t you touch a hair on her head,” El ordered. 

The woman snorted. “As if you can stop me.”

“I know who can.”

Those black opals narrowed more. “I’m not scared of her.”

“But I bet King Heart wants to wring your fucking neck once I tell Salacious you’re in town.”

Blaque was across the room in a second with a small knife against his neck. Although she wore booted heels, he hadn’t heard a sound, and she moved like lightning. “You keep my family’s names out of your mouth, El.”

He stepped back from the blade and touched his neck where she had drawn blood. “Why? They are already dead to you, according to your cousin. So leave who I associate with alone.”

“She isn’t like others. I can hear it in your voice,” Blaque sneered and stepped closer. Immediately, those eyes showed what she had discovered. “You don’t get nasty with just anyone, El.”

Throwing her off a little, El accused, “You were there! I knew it. Did the boy see you? Was it that important that you exposed yourself to a child?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, the villainous woman said coolly, “I’ll kill him with her.”

“Dammit, Blaque, what’s this going to accomplish? I covered for your ass in New York. I told you I’m done after Chicago, which goes for everyone else helping you. Get out!” he ordered.

For the first time, her look softened. “She is THAT important to you. How? Even your sister never was.” She stepped up to him, looking under his nose. “You can tolerate her?!” This was said in shock. 

Looking at him from head to toe and back again, she seemed to see something odd. Then Blaque stepped back and put away her knife. “I make no promises.”

“I don’t care. Stay away from me.”

“I make no promises,” she repeated. 

Blaque never repeated herself EVER. This worried him as she walked around him, paused at the hotel door, and then left. 

He didn’t turn around to see her leave; El only listened to her departure. Not looking was the best thing. 

Of course, she could have killed him. He’d seen her kill a lot of people without breaking a sweat. 

Yet, he knew if he looked at her, it would give her more fuel for her vengeful fire. Blaque would think there was a little bit there to fuck with him about. 

His resolve was firm. He chose Iris and would do anything for her above everything. 

Blaque Heart needed to know that. 

End of This Chapter | Post your thoughts in the comment | Let the author know what’s going on in your head

Let Me Love You (c) 2024 Sylvia Hubbard All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual person, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
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