Chapter 295
In Chapter 170 of “Dreams Folding Into Broken Time,” titled “Sleeping Beauty,” Reese wakes up to the soft chime of the clock at eight in the morning. He sits on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his messages while observing Penelope, who is still asleep and seemingly at peace. However, he is struck by a fleeting thought of her being lifeless, only to be reassured by a slight twitch of her shoulder. Despite her beauty, he reflects on the chaos they both experienced the previous night, feeling responsible for the emotional wreckage she now embodies.
As he prepares for the day, Reese acknowledges that Penelope, a talented attorney, is unprepared for an important hearing set to begin at nine o’clock. He recognizes her dedication to her work but also her inability to say no to him, which led to their reckless night together. The atmosphere in the room is thick with remnants of their intimacy, and he takes note of the marks on her body—evidence of their passionate encounter. For him, it was a form of payback and indulgence, while for her, it was a longing reunion.
Reese finds himself amused by the irony of Penelope’s situation. She is usually in control, especially in the courtroom, but he has discovered her vulnerabilities. As he watches her sleep, he feels no guilt for the chaos they created; instead, he relishes the power he holds over her. He recalls how their connection helped mend his relationship with his brother, who had reached out to him because of her.
As the clock ticks closer to eight-thirty, Reese decides it’s time to wake Penelope. He approaches the bed and gently tries to rouse her, but she remains oblivious. When he finally calls her name with a sharper tone, she awakens in a panic, realizing the time and the impending chaos she faces. Her confusion quickly turns to alarm as she scrambles to prepare for her crucial moment in court, highlighting the tension and urgency of the situation.
**TITLE: Dreams Folding Into Broken Time p>
**Chapter 170: Sleeping Beauty p>
**Reese p>
I was wide awake by the time the clock chimed eight, the sound echoing softly in the stillness of the room. Dressed and perched on the edge of the bed, I held my phone in one hand, scrolling through a mix of messages that blurred together in my mind. Every so often, my eyes would drift back to Penelope, still ensnared in the sheets, half-hidden beneath the covers. Her blonde hair spilled across the red pillow like sunlight caught in a storm.
In that moment, she looked so peaceful. Almost too peaceful.
For a fleeting instant, I was struck by the absurd thought that she might have slipped away in her sleep, her stillness so profound it seemed otherworldly. But then, as if sensing my gaze, her shoulder twitched slightly, and I couldn’t help but chuckle softly. Whether dead or alive, she looked like she had been through hell and back. Beautiful, yes, but utterly wrecked.
And I had played a significant role in that wreckage.
The curtains hung drawn, casting a muted light that softened the edges of the room. The air was thick with a heady mix of sex, coffee, and an intoxicating blend of two masculine fragrances that clung to the sheets. I glanced at the clock again—8:05 a.m.
The hearing was set to commence at nine.
A grin crept onto my lips as I tossed my phone aside, leaning back against the headboard, my elbows resting on my knees. I wasn’t the one who had to defend a senator’s son today. No, that responsibility fell squarely on Penelope’s shoulders—the shining star of the state bar, a woman who had meticulously crafted her reputation on a foundation of flawless victories and ruthless precision.
Except today.
Today, she would arrive late, unprepared, and utterly deprived of sleep—all because she couldn’t bring herself to say no to me.
Not that I had twisted her arm. I never had to. All it took was my presence at her door, and she was drawn in like a moth to a flame.
I stole another glance at her, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest, each breath a reminder of her vulnerability. The sheet had slipped from one shoulder, revealing a constellation of bruises and red marks that traced a path along her collarbone—my marks.
Last night had been a chaotic masterpiece of self-destruction. After years of separation, she had seen me again, and her body had betrayed her principles in ways she could hardly comprehend. It was as if she had thrown herself at me, and I had seized the opportunity like a predator, all instincts and desires. Before she could articulate a single thought, I had pulled her down to the floor, shattering every plan she had meticulously laid out for the evening.
She hadn’t even glanced at the case files for today.
We had lost ourselves in each other on the bed, the floor, the couch, the wall, and even the dining table. Every available surface in her stylish apartment had become a canvas for our reckless abandon. She kept whispering my name, the syllables tumbling from her lips like a prayer she wished she could hate.
To her, it was passion. To her, it was a reunion.
To me, it was a form of payback, perhaps a bit of fun mixed in. After all, a free encounter had never hurt anyone, had it?
Penelope was never one to wear the mask of innocence; she was no fragile victim. She was a viper, the kind of woman who concealed sharp blades behind her charming smile. Yet, she was also the reason my brother had picked up the phone and called me. It was almost comical.
She was the one who had bridged the chasm between us, allowing us to speak without threats or animosity.
Thank goodness my brother still recognized that I was the only one capable of reaching her.
I rubbed my hand over my jaw, a smirk playing on my lips as I savored the irony of the situation. “Looks like you won’t be showing up bright and early for justice today, sweetheart p>
She remained still, lost in her dreams.
8:15.
If I were a better man, perhaps guilt would have gnawed at me. But guilt and I had never been on friendly terms.
What fascinated me about Penelope was her unwavering belief that she was always in control—outside the bedroom, that is. She was the one who called the shots, orchestrating every move both in the courtroom and beyond. But I had uncovered her secret. I knew just how easy it was to pull the rug out from under her, to witness the cracks in her perfect facade.
She had exuded confidence last night at the bar, but that all changed the moment she kissed me with a desperate urgency. Those self-assured words had faltered, leaving her vulnerable.
I stood up, stretching my limbs lazily before wandering over to the window. The city had come alive—cars honking, distant chatter filling the air. It was the kind of morning noise that made the world feel vibrant, while she remained blissfully unaware, still lost in her slumber.
8:30 a.m.
Time to rouse Sleeping Beauty.
I crossed the room, halting at the edge of the bed. “Rise and shine, counselor,” I murmured, leaning in close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her.
She stirred, her brow furrowing slightly, but she didn’t wake.
I took a moment to admire her, noting the subtle twitch of her jaw, the crease that formed between her brows. Even in her half-asleep state, she exuded an energy that suggested she was ready to argue with anyone—and win, no less.
“Penelope,” I said, my voice sharper now, cutting through the haze of sleep. “It’s eight-thirty p>
That did the trick.
Her eyes flew open, confusion flickering across her features, quickly followed by realization and then pure panic.
“What—what time did you say p>
“Half past eight,” I replied, suppressing a grin that threatened to break free. “You’ve got, what, thirty minutes until your big moment? The senator’s kid isn’t going to save himself p>
She bolted upright, clutching the sheet tightly to her chest as if it could shield her from the impending chaos. “You—why didn’t you wake me up p>
In the quiet aftermath of the morning’s chaos, the weight of their shared history hung heavily in the air, a bittersweet reminder of the tumultuous path they had walked together. Reese’s playful teasing masked a deeper acknowledgment of the turmoil he had caused in Penelope’s life, a reckoning that stirred within him as he watched her scramble to regain control. The tender vulnerability he had glimpsed beneath her fierce exterior was both intoxicating and terrifying, revealing the cracks in the armor she had so carefully constructed. As Penelope rushed to prepare for the day ahead, he couldn’t shake the feeling that their reunion had set off a chain reaction, one that would force them both to confront the consequences of their choices and the undeniable chemistry that still crackled between them.
Yet, beneath the surface of their chaotic morning lay the promise of transformation. Penelope, though momentarily disheveled and unprepared, embodied resilience; she would rise to the occasion, as she always did, and perhaps this time, she would emerge not just as a formidable force in the courtroom but as a woman reclaiming her narrative. For Reese, the realization that he was not only a catalyst for her vulnerability but also a source of her strength ignited a flicker of hope within him. Their tangled emotions, once a source of pain, now hinted at the possibility of healing, of forging a new path together. As Penelope hurriedly gathered her composure, Reese silently vowed to support her—not just in the courtroom but in the unpredictable journey of their intertwined lives, where dreams might finally fold into a time unbroken.
In the upcoming chapter, readers can expect the tension to escalate as Penelope scrambles to prepare for her hearing, her mind racing against the clock. With only thirty minutes to go, the stakes have never been higher. Will she be able to shake off the remnants of last night’s chaos and summon the fierce confidence that has defined her career? As she grapples with the aftermath of their reckless night together, her emotions will clash with her professional obligations, leading to a dramatic confrontation that could alter the course of her case—and their relationship—forever.
Moreover, the chapter promises to delve deeper into the complexities of Reese and Penelope’s dynamic. As they navigate the fallout from their passionate encounter, old wounds may resurface, revealing the deeper motivations behind their actions. Will Reese’s playful demeanor mask a more profound understanding of Penelope’s vulnerabilities? As secrets unravel and hidden agendas come to light, the reader will be left on the edge of their seat, eager to discover whether Penelope can reclaim her composure in the courtroom or if the ghosts of their past will haunt her when she needs strength the most. Get ready for a whirlwind of emotions, revelations, and the tantalizing question of whether love can truly survive the storm of ambition and betrayal.
Sara Lili
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.