Page 19
Story: Shiver (Philia Players #4)
Chapter eighteen
Samara
Tuesday, July 14, 2026
I t’s late by the time I get home.
My feet ache as I kick my heels off at the door, wiggling my cramped, swollen toes on the hard floors.
I roll my head from side to side, stretching out the tension gathered in my neck and shoulders from the first day of what’s turning into a long string of days spent supporting Sierra, a client I’ve been meeting with for two months now.
She’s worked so damn hard to get her shit together for her son, but her ex has found an attorney who’s more than happy to stereotype my client, using harmful insinuations about her character to back up his claims.
There are very few things in this world that piss me off more than people with inherent privilege from the color of their skin and the dick and balls swinging between their legs to get further in life.
My muscles feel rigid, and my jaw has seemingly ceased to unclench since we finished up today.
I set my purse on the entryway table, grabbing my phone from the inside pocket and sorting through messages as I make my way to my room for a nice, hot bath.
My eyes land on a text from Luca, and my lips pinch together as I read the message.
Luca
Hey Samara, I just wanted to thank you again for everything you’ve done for Gia and me. I know we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, but I couldn’t have done this without you guiding me through the process. My little girl and I get to have many more nights like this one because of you, and I can’t thank you enough for that. Have a great rest of your night.
It doesn’t really feel like I did much of anything.
Frustrated tears well in my eyes as I click on the attached image. Luca and Gia are cuddled up on a couch with a fluffy pink blanket wrapped around them. Gia’s lids are barely open, but there’s no hiding those stunning eyes that mirror her father’s. One green and one blue.
For the rest of the night, I will myself to stop thinking about Luca. He’s done nothing but add stress to my already hectic life, and somehow, he’s an anomaly. I find myself repeatedly thinking about every way in which this man has surprised me since knowing him, and it frustrates me to no end that I’m starting to think far more of the good than I am the bad.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19 (Reading here)
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90