His Deadly Obsession.
Chapter 4. “Gether every detail about her,” Drystan commanded in his usual stern voice, dropping the picture of Rosealba that he had gotten from Lina’s shelf, on the table. Rocco reached out for it with a bow. He stared at the picture for not longer than 2 seconds before deeping it into his back pocket. He stood still, his both hands behind his back as he waited for Drystan’s next reply. Behind the black desk, Drystan sat comfortably and leaned into it, with a wrapped weed to his lips while he stared into space, alternating between killing the scumbag that tried to fake a deal with him. The thought of it sent his blood gushing in rage. With dark haunting narrowed eyes, he drew out a drag from his weed and offered it to the air before getting to his feet. “Have the stacked weapons arranged and sent to the warehouse I will handle the rest. “As you wish, my lord.” ****** Rosealba walked through Lowel’s hallway, wearing her big beautiful smile. In her right hand was a packed food that she had prepared for Lowel. After he stood her up at the airport for three hours. He had apologized and came up with excuses that had Rosealba blaming herself for getting mad at him. When she got to the front of his kitchen. Her legs halted and her big bright smile slowly vanished, replaced with an expression of shock. Stellina, the one Lady that Lowel had always referred to as ‘just a sister’ was bending over the kitchen cabinet while Lowel made heavy thrust into her, spanking and grunting hotly, his body sweating profoundly from the pleasure the moment was offering him. The nylon in her hand dropped, and the food that she spent over two hours cooking with excitement came pouring onto the floor, littering the ground with its contents. Lowell turned to meet Rosealba’s shock-filled face. He pulled out of Stella immediately. Shame flushed through him as he reached out for his dress that lay helplessly on the counter, trying to cover his naked self up with it. “Rosealba.” He called but before he could say anything she stormed to her heels, heading out of his house, with tears in her eyes. Her muscles clenched as she struggled to digest the image of Lowel in Stellina. The spank! His hot grunt. Her heart sank, deep into the depth of the oceans his actions created in her heart. “Rosealba” Lowel called, finally catching up with her. He gripped her by the wrist and swirled her to face him. “I am sorry,” He whispered in a soft tone that sent a split across Rosealba’s heart, breaking it into tiny bits. Her breath hitched and her eyes stung with many more tears. She stood still unsure of what to say. “I am sorry. I didn't mean to.” his words came out in a whisper. “That's what you tell me every time Lowel! You are always sorry.” she sobbed, thinking of how stupid she had been to always forgive him. Lowel groaned. A low frustrating groan. “It's not my fault that I cheated, Rose. You…. You just would not let me touch you and I am a man. I desire the feel of you.” Rosealba felt a muscle in her body clenched. A feeling of guilt clutched her. How could she expect him to stay loyal when she never allowed him to touch her? ‘This is all your fault.” She concluded within herself and sniffed back the tears. She had been dating him for a year plus and they had only ever kissed twice. “I am sorry,” Rosealba whispered. Guilt slithers through her like the painful edge of a knife. “It's not about being sorry.” The flare from Lowel had Rosealba flinching. She stared at him with utter shock. “You never allowed me to touch you. You never got wet for me! Yet you hate that I cheat? The table had suddenly turned around and Rosealba was back to being gaslighted. She bit down on her lips, feeling guilt in every inch of her body. It was wrong that she never had sex with him and she expected him not to keep cheating on her. She blinked back her tears. “I'm sorry.” her stupid self apologized. This was not the first time this was happening and she always ended up apologizing. “I am sorry I don't give you sex or I don't get wet for you, but… Stellina is your sister and… Lowel exhaled, cutting Roselaba’s words off. He took Rosealba’s palm into it. “You can't keep being sorry, Rosealba, at this moment I think we have to break up.” A muscle in Rosealba’s body pinched as his words struck her like a truck to a wall. She stood gobsmack, with a heavy heart, stinging eyes, and trembling lips. “What do you mean?” something finally made it out of her void throat. “I mean that I can no longer continue this relationship. I mean, look at you. You don't get wet, you have never allowed me to touch you for more than three minutes and you get mad when you see me with another? I can't take it. I really can't.” Rosealba’s eyes narrowed and she stared at Lowel. How did she go from being the victim to the villain? He should be pleading. She should be the one desiring a breakup, not his lying cheating ass. A lump settled against her throat as she swallowed in, trying to hold onto her wobbling legs with every inbuilt power but they failed her. “My advice is for you to stay clear of any relationship. You can barely get wet, and I would be lying if I said I still need you. I don't, but I will keep you if you desire, under the circumstances that I date you and Stellina.” Rosealba’s heart clamped and fresh tears stung the back of her eyes. Every other time that Lowel had cheated, she had felt the pain, but never as much as she was feeling now and the pain only amplified when he turned around and walked away from her, his retreating figure, breaking her into millions of pieces. All the time he had cheated, it never hurt, but this time it did because he had cheated on her with a lady she trusted was his sister and his words had not stopped slicing through her. ***** The rustling sounds of the Polyalthia tree that decorated the road and made it as narrow as a valley were as scary as the lonely road that she walked helplessly on with bare legs, rain pouring down heavily on her and wetting her body in ways that her stupid ex never did. “Scumbag!” She kicked her legs in the air, angrily. She didn't even know what she was having. The fear of this road that has the blood of over 300 hundred people on its path, the fact that Lowel had watched her leave this without caring about her safety, or the pain of knowing that she broke up with a man she never wanted to date yet it hurt this much. Her naive helpless self had only dated him because of an incident that had their path crossing for the best and then to the very worst. He had saved her from some gang men after she arrived in Italy and that has been a lead for him to manipulate his way into her soft heart. He had cheated countless times and manipulated her into believing that all men were like her father. Liers from the pit of hell, cheaters like Solomon, and of course gaslighters like their pathetic disgusting creatures! “Fuck You!” Rosealba muffled, casting a stone into the dark end of the dark empty road, her tears mixed with the rain. She slumped onto the floor pain shutting through her body, at this point, she was not worried about her safety. The road was dark and no one would take this lonely path, only cars moved around this area so she was already doomed. Rosealba picked another little pebble throwing it into the roadside, her heart aching like it had been pierced with a dagger. ************ Drystan was speeding down the narrow road with his pulse thumping hard against his ear when he suddenly heard the crash of a pebble against his car. His jaws tightened as he stared at the damaging effect that the pebbles had caused on the left side glass of his car. His leg pressed hard on break and his car came to a rough halt. His grip tightened against the wheel and his knuckles almost turned white as anger slitted through him. Today is not so a good day for him, so the mother fucker was wrong to think that he would not die a ruthless death today. He had a very bad day, judging that he didn't kill his traitor the way he desired, so this random person who has walked into his trap would pay for it, and heavens be damned if he didn't drive a stake into the heart of the person and rip him open like leaked secrets. Well, heaven was indeed damned when he stepped down from his car and slammed the door roughly only to be caught with the sight of his rose sitting on the cold wet floor with her body drenched, quivering and writhing but certainly not the way he desired to see her writhe. His brows knitted and his face tightened into a deep hard confused line. Her blond hair was a call for alarm and it was what informed him of her. She looked so innocent and helpless sitting on the cold floor of this dangerous road. A muscle in his jaws pinched and he felt the rage from before amplified. His blood roared in anger, with so much quest to taste the blood of whoever had done this to his rose. Some seconds back, he had sworn to butcher whoever had dared to damage his car with a pebble and watch the blood of that person flow down the road in competition with the pouring rain but this moment, he was not just going to watch the blood of the bastard that dared his little rose, flow like river, he was going to drive a stake into the heart of that person, split him open and chop him off till he was nothing but tiny million pieces of skin against the floor.His Deadly obsession. Chapter 5. The distance between Rosealba and Drystan closed gradually as he took steady yet powerful steps closer to her. Why she was on the floor and crying under the cold rain bothered him. Rage burned through him. Whoever was responsible would pay the price he would wish he never had to hurt her. That is if the person lived to rethink his fucking actions. “Sunshine.” The words slid out of his mouth before he could even control it. He didn't know if it was too early to call her by that name but that was the name he had prepared for her and it soothed so well because of how delicate her presence brightened the room, no matter how dark the moment was. “Go away.” Rosealba was going to scream and yell and tell the person admist her sobs that she knew this street was dangerous and it was none of his fucking business but she recalled the voice and that left her frozen for some seconds. Slowly, she raised her gaze and his pair of jade emerald eyes sent a
He might be crazy. Or a psychopath for sitting on this chair with his huge and erect cock in his hand while his preying eyes fisted greedily on the beautiful sight of her fresh thighs, as she slept like the princess he would make her in no time. Drystan leaned against the wall in his room, his eyes hungrily fixed on the pretty sleeping Roseslba. His pair of emerald jade eyes watched over her like the protector he promised to be. Only that his very psychopathic and perverted self desired to do more. He moved an inch closer and her cologne began to reek stronger, pulling him closer. He was a greedy person for not taking her home, but he would certainly not deny being greedy. He has always been a greedy person and with her, he would be even more greedy. As she made a gentle swift of position his eyes followed her keenly till he noticed the gentle twitch of her mouth. His groan tightened and a deadly desire rasped through him. “Go on your knees and take my cock, you slut.” He imag
Rosealba’s head throbbed and her blurry vision eased gently, her eyes catching a glimpse of an unfamiliar ceiling. Her right hand gripped the side of her forehead as she sat upright, grimacing from the pain that ground through her forehead. Slowly, her eyes opened and a feeling of confusion dawned on her as she became more conscious of her surroundings. Her eyes moved around the room— a breathtaking modern architecture, composed entirely of glass, creating an almost ethereal sense of transparency, bathed with gold light that cast its gentle glow on her skin. “Where… where am in?” She asked softly, her voice clear and confused as she ran her hands against the king's size soft fluffy bed, desiring an answer from no one. Her gaze shifted to her body and fear sliced through her body like the icy wind that caught through the warmest resolve. Her clothes from yesterday were gone, replaced with very beautiful, unfamiliar nightwear. Her mind drifted to the thoughts of Drystan. The room
His Deadly Obsession. “Did you really walk in to meet Lowel fucking Stella like they didn’t already claim the sister and brother’s titles?” Lina’s sharp question pierced the air for the third time since Rosealba arrived. Rosealba nodded briefly, her lips pressed into a thin line, her shoulders tight with the weight of the memory. With each question that Lina asked Rosealba was reminded of his deep grunt and the expression his face held. “That jerk,” Lina spat, her voice laced with venom, her anger etched into every sharp line of her expression. “And he had the right to gaslight you?”Rosealba exhaled softly, her shoulders slumping further as she nodded again, barely moving her head. She was tired—tired of the questions, tired of reliving it. But she knew Lina wasn’t the type to let things go. Her best friend was relentless when it came to demanding answers.“I can’t believe that jerk had the nerve to gaslight you, after putting you through all of this stress. He should be grateful h
His Deadly Obsession. Nothing made sense to Drystan aside from the thoughts of Rosealba and the things he did to her lips while she was asleep. The room was dimly lit. The faint hum of the overhead fan barely masked the city sounds outside. The air smelled of cigarettes and leather, a testament to the countless deals sealed in this space. Seated at the head of the long mahogany table, was Alactor Merikh Drystan. “The sovereign.” He leaned back in his chair, one leg casually crossed over the other. His dark button-down top was immaculate and he wore it like armor. A smoldering cigarette rested between his fingers, sending thin trails of smoke into the air. His face was a mask of indifference calm, his sharp cheekbones casting shadows in the dim light. His cold, dark eyes betrayed no emotion as he studied the men who sat in front of him, their nervous energy palpable. One of them is a portly man with beads of sweat forming on his temple. The other was a thin man who kept glancing
His Deadly obsession. A smile stretched the corners of Rosealba’s lips as she moved closer and confirmed that it was Drystan. It was indeed him standing at the door of her store. How did he find her? She hurriedly opened the door, her actions filled with surprise and merriment. “You’re here,” Rosealba said, her voice laced with surprise and the faintest hint of happiness.Drystan smiled a rare and tender expression that softened the sharp lines of his face. The smile wasn’t just for her—it was for himself, too. An acknowledgment of the warmth she awakened in the cold chambers of his soul. Rosealba’s worries seemed to dissolve in the light of that smile, unaware that he didn’t know he was capable of offering something so gentle.Drystan’s eyes traced the curve of her form, lingering on every detail and her words fell on deaf ears, turning into a distant hum as he savored the sight before him. God, she looked perfect. Her blonde hair which was packed in a messy ponytail complemente
Chapter 11.Rosealba stood before the mirror, her reflection staring back with an intensity that mirrored the raging storm within her. Clutching her manuscript, her knuckles whitened, and beads of sweat formed on her forehead, unveiling her inner turmoil. She drew in a deep breath, attempting to summon the confidence that seemed to elude her. Straightening her posture, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her shoulder. “You can do this,” she whispered to her reflection, forcing a smile that failed to mask the uncertainty in her eyes. This was her moment, her opportunity to ascend the literary ladder. The thoughts of losing loomed over her, threatening to shatter her dreams of joining the esteemed Noble Writers firm. She could not afford rejection at the moment. This was her only hope. Her only dream. The sudden vibration of her phone jolted her from her reverie. Retrieving her phone from the pocket of her cream-colored coat—a garment that exuded an elegance that her face didn'
HIS DEADLY OBSESSION. Chapter 12. Drystan moved with quiet confidence, grabbing the plump man by the collar. The motion was almost gentle, but the fear in the man’s eyes revealed the searing heat of Drystan’s grip. He trembled like a child caught in the jaws of a predator.For a moment, Rosealba’s fear dissolved entirely, replaced by a fluttering warmth deep in her chest. Drystan wasn’t just a savior; he was a force of nature, a storm that broke through her loneliness and fear in one decisive sweep. Her savior was a monster if only she knew. A monster that took life without chances. As the man whimpered and begged, Drystan’s piercing gaze found hers, making sure that there was no bruise on her body. His eyes were sharp, yet beneath their coldness, Rosealba saw something she hadn’t expected: relief— that she was safe. In that moment, she knew she was safe—not just from these men, but from the shadows of her past that had haunted her for far too long.Drystan’s eyes darted back to th
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
The moment was here and Drystan could not wait to wrap this up and return home to his woman—the only place where genuine peace existed. The night was thick with the kind of tension that clung to the air, heavy like a storm just before it breaks. The dockyard stood under a shadowy veil, lit by the dim orange glow of streetlights reflecting off the glistening water. It was an industrial graveyard, but to Drystan, it was just another stage for his dominance to play out.He stood at the helm, his posture unyielding, radiating authority with every breath. His leather gloves creaked as he adjusted the cuff of his tailored jacket, the gleam of his cold, calculating eyes scanning the movements of his men. They were unloading crates of arms with military precision—no wasted motion, no hesitation. Drystan didn’t tolerate mistakes. His empire ran on precision, and nothing would disrupt the careful balance he’d established.A few of his men shot nervous glances at him, but none dared approach. T