“Why did you do that?” Lowel thundered, pacing the room like a caged animal. His eyes burned with fury.“Do what?” Stephanie asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she raised a brow, feigning ignorance. Lowel stopped abruptly, his fists clenched at his sides as he glared at her. He was trembling, trying to contain the anger coursing through him.“Why did you manipulate your way into the firm and have them screen Rosealba off?” Stephanie tilted her head, feigning thought. “Oh. That.” A scoff escaped her lips. She reached for the glass of wine on the table, sipping leisurely before placing it back. Crossing one leg over the other, she shrugged. “She deserves it.”Lowel’s jaw tightened. His glare deepened, sharp enough to cut through steel. “You had no right,” he growled.Stephanie’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “No right? What do you care?”“I care,” Lowel snapped, his voice rising. As much as he hated Rosealba for her innocence he saw her work for that position. “I care because
Rosealba’s grip tightened on her phone as she struggled not to rip it off her ear and end the call. Her knuckles turned white, her breath caught in her throat, and her heart thudded painfully against her ribs.“Come home,” the receiver from the other end commanded. The voice carried an undercurrent of unspoken concern, but it felt to Rosealba like a cage waiting to trap her— to trap her into being Don’s sex toy.“Home?” Rosealba scoffed, batting her lashes and blinking back the unwelcome tears. They pricked the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill. But tears were a weakness she couldn’t afford. Not now.“Home,” she repeated, her voice brittle with disbelief. She let out a soft, bitter laugh that escaped her lips like shattered glass.“Where is home? The place in Poland that seems rather so distinct? The place in Poland that leaves no freedom? The place in Poland that steals the little peace I have? Is that what you call home?”Each word cracked like a whip, slicing through the ai
Chapter 17.Drystan walked into Rosealba’s store, his presence, like he was the freakking owner, his presence yielding and commanding. Of course, he was in charge—in charge of the owner of the store and the store itself. But there was something off. The warmth that the store exuded was missing. It was not covered in the usual feeling of peace and serenity, it felt cold and deprived of everything that made it peaceful, yet nothing was missing or absent from its position, aside from Rosealba of course. He took a step further, very cautious and of course scanning the entire room with his watchful eyes. Almost immediately. His eyes found his sunshine. On her white couch, she sat, her head bent. Her body didn't move, but her shoulders shook slightly, almost invisibly, but he could tell. Her fist tightened around her hair, squeezing and pulling on it the same way he desired to squeeze and fist on her hair when he would fit his cock into her beautiful and willing creamy self. The invisib
Chapter 18. Roselba’s body shuddered at the hardness of his palm against her cheeks. She bit on her lower lips, looking everywhere aside from his face. “Look at me.” His voice soft yet commanding directed her doe eyes to his, and every freaking nerve in his body jubilated at the spark that glistened through her blurry doe eyes. This obsession was daring— too daring that he feared he might lose himself to the voice in his head that was daring him to carry every freaking desire that boiled through him. Drystan leaned closer, so close that their face was barely inches away from each other. Rosealba’s breath hitched at the closeness of his face against hers. Her pussy throbbed at the whiff of his cologne, developing sudden breaths of its own as Drystan’s hot breath fanned her cheeks. “What…” her voice trailed off as Drystan pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her at once. She stood still, frozen by his action but her inner churned and her legs wobbled as his closeness stirred a h
Drystan sat on the couch by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse, the sprawling city beneath him illuminated by the night. The faint hum of the city of Rome couldn’t penetrate the glass, leaving him in an eerie silence that mirrored his thoughts. His gaze was distant, fixed on nothing in particular, but his mind was on her—Rosealba. The woman that haunted his thoughts day and night. Rocco entered the room cautiously, his footsteps barely audible on the polished marble floor. He held a dossier in his hand, but he knew better than to speak first.Without turning, Drystan’s voice sliced through the silence. “My lord.” Rocco bowed.“This is the information you requested.”Drystan forward slightly picking up the glass of cup that contained a wine, from the table in front of him. He leaned back into his chair, still giving Rocco his back. His voice was a low growl that commanded obedience. “Tell me everything you’ve learned about Nobel Write.”Rocco cleared his throat and opened
IN POLAND. The room was quiet, except for the faint ticking of an ornate clock on the mantelpiece. Roselba’s parents sat stiffly on the velvet armchairs, their faces pale under the weight of Don Vittoro’s imposing presence. He stood by the window, his silhouette framed by the golden glow of the setting sun. His tailored suit was immaculate, but it was the cold authority in his eyes that dominated the room—cold authority in his eyes yet he was no match for Drystan , if he ever has the opportunity to share the same space with Drystan. Without turning to face them, Don Vittorio spoke, his tone sharp and deliberate. “I am a man of agreements. And your agreement with me, signed and sealed, was very clear.”Roselba’s father shifted uneasily in his seat. “Don Vittoro, we… we needed time. Perhaps we can—”The Don turned sharply, his eyes narrowing. “Time?” he repeated, his voice a low, menacing drawl. “I do not deal in delays. I deal in absolutes. And the absolute truth is this—Roselba bel
Chapter 21. The call ended, with Roselba wearing a big smile on her face. Her eyes darted to the gift box that rested on the counter in her office store. The smile wore off, gently, replaced with a natural expression. Her heart melted at the sight of the thoughtful gift. “You do not sound like you got rejected. I like that for you Roselba.” “You look radiant today ma'am.” This was a remark from her best friend and a lady who came to purchase bunches of flowers. “Whatever picked you up and made you have faith I hope it keeps guilding you calmly at this stormy moment of your life.” As Lina’s words filled her mind, she took a seat on the stool. The man who is guilding her heart with shores of hope is her best friend’s brother. He has been there, like no other, and day by day he had become the solace she refused to admit that she lacked in her life. “I will come see you the moment I finish my meeting from the office.” It had been delivered to him by a person she could best refer
HIS DEADLY OBSESSION. Chapter 22. The world stood still, revolving around them. His words pounded in her ear and her pussy made that tiny tingle that had her it burning with untold desire. She swallowed, too stunned to say a word.His words came raw and dirty yet they filled her mind with nasty thoughts that left her pussy throbbing— nasty words that she never allowed, yet it felt so soothing coming from him.“I…” “You look pretty.” Drystan silenced, taking a step closer. Rosealba's legs stayed fixed, rooted to the floor. The one step he took was gentle, yet powerful that it covered the space between them. Her heart pounded at the closeness that left her feeling the heat that his body radiated. Her eyes trailed from his cheeks to his lips. They were soft and tempting yet they looked like the kind of lips that would capture hers and dive her into the world of the forbidden. Her eyes accentuated his hard jaws, his collar bone, and then to the revealed part of his sculptured chest
Drystan’s grip tightened on his phone and he stared down at the message that stared right back at him. “How do I look?” Rosealbe asked flinging her hair backward while descending the stairs. Drystan raised a gaze, but the sight of her was worth more than a single glance. He slid his phone into his pocket, so briefly like he was trying to hide sometning. Rosealbe's eyes followed the movement of his phone. She noticed the swift action but didn't press further. She could tell from the look in his eyes. The message was from Lina. Earlier in the car, she had asked Lina about Drystan, giving Lina details about Drystan’s appearance and how worried he had looked. Lina had assured her—in her words. “I will reach out to him when I get back to work. “How do I look?” she asked again, flipping her hair backward. Drystan exhaled, straightening his posture. His gaze lingered on her body for more than seconds. His eyes accentuated her body. Dressed in pink material pajamas. Long trousers and a
Drystan’s hand settled on Rosealba’s waist, guiding her through the walkway as they stepped into the beautiful penthouse. As the floor-to-ceiling glass door that stretched across the entire length of the main living room building opened, they stepped into the interior that offered an unbroken view of the beautiful interior. Welcoming Rosealba’s eyes. Her eyes delighted slightly as she took in the view of the living room. Dark leather furnishings and minimalist decor enhanced the living room, with a refined aura, their clean lines and luxurious textures exuding effortless opulence. Rosealba’s eyes wandered further, her legs moving towards the direction of the open-concept design that flowed seamlessly from the grand living room to a kitchen adorned with black marble countertops and state-of-the-art appliances, each surface catching the ambient glow of golden pendant lights, while Drystan just walked behind her, loving the amusement in her eyes at every step she took. “This Is beaut
Rocco walked behind Drystan, his steps hurried and brisk. “Stay back.” Drystan dismissed before getting into his car, not sparing him a glance. Rocco's frowns deepened. This was his 7th year of working with his boss. In all 7 years, he had seen all expressions aside from anxiety. The look that Drystan’s face held was of anxiety, and he hated to admit that his boss was anxious. But it was the reality. He was falling in love with Rosealba and a weakness has stepped in, whether being admitted or not. As usual, he made a bow, obeying his lordship’s command. He didn't dare to defy it, but he burned with rage. Drystan’s grip tightened on the wheel, his knuckles almost turning pale, as anxiety slithered through his vein, like a serpent, coiling tighter with every breath, squeezing the air from his lungs until every breath felt like luxury. His feet pressed harder onto the accelerator as he struggled to decipher every thought that crawled into him like trembling hands against the wall. F
Drystan sat in his dimly lit office. His sharp gaze fixed on the thick stack of mafia proposals before him but his mind wandered around with thoughts of Rosealba. The scent of leather and expensive whiskey lingered in the air, mixing with the faint trace of gunpowder—a reminder of the world he owned—and the world he ruled here in this unholy room and outside this unholy building.A golden lamp cast a low glow over the polished mahogany desk, highlighting the precise arrangement of documents that dictated the fate of incompeted men. Men who needed him to survive—men who needed his approval to carry on with life hacks. Across from him stood Rocco, silent and observant as always. He spoke when necessary, and his presence was a constant reminder that the world outside this office relied on Drystan’s command. The proposals lined up on the desk were all the same—offers of allegiance, desperate alliances, men begging for his approval to expand their illegal trades. Tonight, one proposal i
Rosealbe walked to the table like he had commanded, her legs wobbling under the protection of nothing. Drystan’s muscles pinched, elation spreading its wings across his body as he watched her carry his command delicately. Ass on the bed like it would be on his face, legs spread wide according to his command. His skin prickled and his balls tightened harder. He moved closer, every step, seething pleasure through Rosealba’s spine like heat. “You do well with carrying commands sunshine. Spread your legs wider.” His voice was firmer, hotter, and even more authoritative. Rosealbe hesitated a second, spreading her legs before he could notice. Delight plopped Drystan’s eyes. “Good girl.” He mumbled in a deep soothing voice. As he moved closer, his eyes darkened with untamed hunger—the hunger to taste, eat, feast, and drink from every inch of her.His hands moved to her nipples and he gripped them against his fingers, letting his eyes roam around her magnificent body. “I could worship
Rosealba’s pussy tingled as Drystan’s lips found hers, capturing it into a relentless kiss. Her pulse thundered as Drystan enclosed his hand against her neck, pulling her closer to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring and devouring her mouth like he was tasting himself from her lips. Every move of his lips against hers left her arching and yearning for more of what he desired to offer. His grip on her neck tightened and he tilted his head sideways, tasting every corner of her mouth. His cock hardened, almost painfully. He had been yearning for his day. For the day when he would kiss her hungrily and taste himself off her lips—that day was today and every ounch of him prayed gravely to be buried in her tight willing self. Drystan pulled away, his breath raging and heavy as he stared back at Rosealba with eyes that represented lust, needs, and desire. His grip on her neck remained, just like his gaze against hers. “How was your first taste of cum?”Rosealba’s stomach churned at the
Drystan gritted, his blood scalding with a mixture of rage and unbearable yarn.“Teasing me, huh?” His voice deep and compelling voice mirrored his untamed desire and desperation to be mercilessly sucked. Rosealba’s cheeks stretched into a smile, a soft seductive smile that deepened with a fraction of an inch. She paid no reply to his word. Her hand ran gently against his clothed tug, her eyes rooted on his, while she bit on her lower lips. “Urghhhh!” Drystan grunted, almost animalistically. If being touched could burn this deep—what would being sucked do?The thought of being sucked intensified his anticipation, and his stomach flipped as curiosity narrowed its claws against his body. Frustration spilled through him— And he grabbed Rosealba’s hair, yanking her head backward. “You little tease.” Drystan gritted, easing his neck, eagerly. Rosealba’s pussy tingled at the frustrated sight of him. She bit harder on her lower lips, wondering how he would look when she had his cock agai
Rosealba stilled in both actions and breath. Her eyes held Drystan’s face his words echoing in her head and melting through her heart. Rosealba swallowed forcing some air down her throat. “Being my obsession is enough to earn you anything free and I need you to take it without questions.”Obsession? The word resounded in her head, separately. Her eyes narrowed and she looked at Drystan's confusion etched on her face. She was his obsession? As the realization struck her, the confusion on her face wore off, replaced with something different. Butterflies swirled in her belle. She was his obsession? She was Drystan’s obsession. As toxic and scary as sounded, she loved and enjoyed it. Silence stretched and her eyes held properly onto his eyes, gazing into them like she was searching for the future. Gently, she reached her right hand to his cheeks. Drystan stiffened at the slow and deliberate soft touch, but he mended his height just so her hand didn't ache.Rosealba’s hand moved gently
As Drystan stepped into his masion, an unfathomable feeling of excitement clutched his chest and the excitement of arriving home followed. Home? The name resounded in his ear, familiar yet utterly strange. He had never looked further to coming home—he had never seen this mansion as home. To him? It was a tall vast building that sheltered his head and represented replica’s of building he had, in and across the world. But today, there was a feeling of longing to arrival in this house that he paid lesser attention to and he feared to accept that Rosealba was the home. In her, the home resided. As Drystan stepped out of the elevator with Rocco behind him. The familiar figure stood tall, her blouse tugged into her black skirt. “My lord.” She bowed, happy to finally be back. Drystan stared at her for some seconds. “How was your stay?” His question was covered to his weak interior. Lately compassion has been a part of him and he hated that he cared about people and their affairs to even o