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
Rosealba ran into the changing room. She shut the door and leaned into it, panting and trying to restore her heavy breath. “Gosh!” She exclaimed, thinking about everything that happened out there. Rosealba rested on the closed door, her heart pounding as the image of the moment outside clouded her head. She settled into it. Subconsciously, her lips stretched into a smile as she recalled the look in his eyes. The bulge of his cock, and the gentle throb against her back. Her pussy tingled and wetness coated her thighs as she envisioned the image of his cock. She settled into the thoughts, wondering how it would feel to have his cock in her hands while she stroke gently on it like the porn ladies she has grown to watch.“Are you hungry? I will serve you some cock.” His previous statement resonated through her ear. Her heart pounded at the rawness of his words and her nipples hardened from the thoughts of being served his cock. “What would it feel like to be served his cock? Will. Will
Chapter 129. Rosealba’s delicate fingers moved against his belt, her touch featherlight yet deliberate. Drystan leaned back against the pillow, his body tense with anticipation as she unbuckled the leather strap and pulled it away with a slow, teasing motion.Their eyes remained locked, a silent challenge passing between them. With measured grace, she slid his pants from his waist, and he instinctively lifted his hips, granting her full access to remove them along with his briefs.His semi-hard member sprang free, thick and proud, and Rosealba’s eyes gleamed with delight—like it was the first time she was seeing him.Three days.Three days without him. Three days without the aching stretch of him inside her. Three days without the connection made her body feel utterly complete.Still holding his gaze, she moved her slender fingers to his waiting cock, wrapping them around him, her grip warm and possessive.Drystan’s muscles tensed at her touch. Slowly, deliberately, she began to stro
Chapter 128. Drystan walked them into the dimly lit room, the air thick with tension and unspoken desire. Rosealba stood before him, her breath shallow, her body aching for his touch. His eyes, dark and possessive, traced every curve of her figures as if memorizing the landscape of his next sin. “You are trembling,” Drystan murmured, stepping closer, his fingers grazing the straps of her silk dress. “Is it fear of anticipation?”Rosealba's lips parted, but no words came out. A ghost of a smirk played on his lips as he reached for the delicate fabric, pulling it down, inch by agonizing inch. The material pooled at her feet, leaving her bare under his heated gaze. “Perfection,” he whispered his breath fanning against her neck as she tailed slowly, open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. Rosealba stiffened, his kiss sending a wild sensation across her spine. “Every inch of you... Is mine.” His hand roamed around her body, worshiping, teasing, claiming her with every touch. His
Chapter 127. The gentle evening breeze curled around Rosealba’s skin the moment she stepped outside, its crisp touch carrying the faint scent of rain and roses.Slowly, Drystan’s hands moved away from her eyes.Rosealba blinked, her lashes fluttering as she adjusted to the dim golden glow of the driveway. The air around her seemed to be still, thick with something unspoken, something that coiled around her chest and stole her breath.And then she saw it.The car.Sleek, dark, and devastatingly perfect.The Bugatti La Voiture Noire stood like a beast waiting to be tamed, its midnight-black body gleaming under the soft wash of the golden moonset. Its curves were pure temptation, an art piece sculpted by the gods of speed and power.But that wasn’t what made her breath hitch.It was the roses.A sea of crimson roses spilled from the open doors onto the pristine leather seats. Hundreds—maybe thousands—of delicate petals, each one whispering of something deeper. Something unspoken.Roseal
Chapter 126. The dim glow of the chandelier cast a soft, golden hue over Rosealba, illuminating the torment carved into her delicate features.She sat still on the vast king-size bed, knees pressed tightly against her chest, arms wrapped around herself as if holding her own fragile pieces together.Three days.Three days of aching silence.Three days of relentless thoughts clawing at her mind.Three days of Drystan’s undying love suffocating her like a vice—gentle, yet inescapable.And in these three days, she had felt it deeper than ever. Deeper than the heated passion they had shared in the past.She had once believed their intimacy was the peak of their connection. The way he worshiped her body, how he made her tremble and unravel beneath his touch. She thought that was the height of their love.But she had been wrong.It was in this moment of darkness, in the silent war within her soul, that she realized the truth.It wasn’t their bodies colliding in desperate need that defined t
Chapter 125. Drystan walked into the cold damp dungeon. The air wreaked of power and deceased body. The body he had made sure they faced their doom after betrayal. The air was thick with the stench of sweat, blood, and piss. The dungeon was cold, the stone walls stained with the ghosts of past lessons.The overhead bulb flickered, casting erratic shadows across the stone floor, where dark stains told a thousand gruesome stories.Drystan stepped forward, boots echoing against the concrete floor The dungeon was silent. Too silent and the incompetent men knelt on the cold stone floor, wrists bound behind them, heads bowed. The air was thick—heavy with the scent of old blood, damp walls, and something worse. Fear. It clung to them, seeped into their skin, settled in their bones.Their bodies trembled. Not from the cold of the dungeon but from the weight of the presence standing before them. Alactor Merikh Drystan. A man who didn't know mercy. A man who never allowed things to slide.
Chapter 124. Rosealba’s heart slammed against her ribcage, each thump echoing like a war drum inside her chest.Her hands trembled, fingers curling so tightly around her phone that her knuckles turned an eerie shade of white.Her stomach twisted. Her pulse drummed erratically.Lowel.The name alone was acid on her tongue. Bitter. Disgusting.The bastard had done this?A low growl rumbled in her throat, her stomach churning with sheer, unfiltered rage. Her grip on the phone remained ironclad as another message buzzed against her palm, vibrating with mockery.She inhaled sharply, dread coiling inside her ribs as she lowered her gaze.“More of this surprise is coming, Sunshine. And I am not going to stop until you come back crawling at my feet to take you back.”Her breath hitched. A sickening wave of nausea crashed into her. Sunshine. The word drummed against her ear. He had called her sunshine. Only Ignazio called her by that. No other person called her that name.Had he found o
Chapter 123.Drystan’s fingers twitched. Anger hummed beneath his skin, scorching every layer like wildfire.His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, trying to suppress the acrid taste of rage against his tongue.Silence stretched between them, hanging by a fragile thread of self-restraint. Fury burned through the deepest parts of him, but he couldn’t afford to unleash it. Not here. Not in front of her.Yet inside, he was raging. The fury howled like a beast clawing at the walls of his restraint. He wanted nothing more than to disappear to Rome, to hunt down every last incompetent fool he had entrusted with her safety. What the fuck had they been doing while her store was being attacked? Why hadn’t he been informed?His grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles paling with the force.Then his gaze lowered—only to meet hers.Rosealba was already staring up at him, her big, beautiful doe eyes demanding answers. She had heard her name, heard her store being mentioned, but the rest of the
Chapter 122. Drytan’s brows knitted, furrowing slightly as Rosealba ran into his arms. His strong arms curled around her body, wrapping her in a warm embrace and stroking her hair between his fingers. Drystan lowered his chin dropping it at the middle of her head. That one action was anchoring. It was an action far better than millions of soothing words. His hand ran against her hair, stroking gently while letting her bask in the peace that his arms could offer. But he was triggered. Triggered to push forward. To ask questions— what had happened to her? Did she get a panic attack again? His heart skipped at just the thought of that. Could she have gotten a panic attack that he didn't know about? Anxiety slithered through his veins, rasping fearful fangs across his jaws. Drystan throat bobbled into a swallow. He ran his arm around her body, pulling her deeper. He would ask, but for now—he allowed her to settle. Rosealba’s heartbeat reduced gradually until there
Chapter 121 Rosealba glared at the screen of her phone, brows knitted in confusion as the unknown number displayed big and bright. For all she knew, she had a routine of people who called her. If Lina wasn’t calling, then it was her mother. But today, someone else was calling. Her fingers curled around the phone. A cringing feeling twisted in her stomach, and worry settled in. Could it be Lowel? Her breath hitched in her throat. The thought unsettled her. He didn’t have a reason to call her. She dropped the phone on the side table, looking into space. As soon as the call ended, the phone began to vibrate again. Rosealba picked up the phone, glaring at the screen—heart pounding like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. It could be someone entirely different, a voice in her head echoed. Someone from the writer’s firm. That was all it took for her hand to glide against the screen. She placed the phone to her ear, heart beating against her chest as she anticipated the voice f