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
Chapter 13. Drystan exhaled. An almost invisible exhale. “You have been standing for long. Does your leg hurt?” His eyes narrowed down to her legs and she pressed them together. Drystan reached to her fresh feet but she took a step backward before he could grip her leg. For the fear that her confused body would react to something as tiny as the graze of his finger. Drystan stared up at her. “Doesn't it hurt?” Rosealba shook her head, slowly and he nodded getting up on his feet. He picked her nylon from the floor and walked over to the passenger seat.“I will drop you home,” he informed throwing the door open. A smile stretched at the corner of Rosealba’s lips and happiness followed. “Thank you.” She appreciated it and walked into the car, her face beaming with smiles. Drystan smiled at her very childish act. She was pure, almost too pure to be called his woman. But nobody complimented her like him. She was all his. The ride to her house was silent. Rosealba settled into the
Chapter 14. Drystan stared at his violent jerking cock. “Fuck….” He cursed. A low deep curse. “Couldn't you stay calm?” the question was the most rhetorical question he had asked in years. Calm? Calm was never a word to use in a sentence that explained his desire for Rosealba. With another lady, he could stay calm, he could dismiss them even before they got down on their knees, but with Rosealba he could never stay calm. His desire for Rosealba can not be compared to any random lady who has warned his bed. Since the moment his eyes crossed her direction, his desire for her began to grow, superseding greater heights that only his desire for killing ever reached. His desire to own, possess dominate, and fuck her was great, greater than his urge to taste the blood of his every inherited enemy.His hand moved against his cock, very slowly that he could feel the pleasure coursing through him—his mind filled with images of her tiny little hands stroking his cock as gently as he was doin
“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
In the dimly lit room, Drystan sat on the couch that presented him with the beautiful view of the pool outside his wide ceiling-to-floor door. His finger drummed gently on his thighs while his right hand held his phone glaring at it and awaiting Rosealba’s reply. It's been an hour since he sent her a message and she had not viewed, nor replied to his message. It was unlike her. His grip on the phone tightened at every second as if trying to strangle the source of his anger. The door to his relaxing space opened and Rocco walked in, clothed in a black outfit that hugged his sculpture body. He walked with practice ease as he approached Dryatan, his face a mask of indifferencies, just the way Drystan loved to have his men— tough and serious at every second. “My lord.” Rocco bowed, his hand clutching firmly onto the brown envelope in his hand.“What's in the envelope?”Rocco arose from the bow. “It is a letter from the government.”Dryatan’s eyes narrowed and he stared at the pool for
“One more kiss on your tempting lips and I will be having a taste on your pussy lips. Do you want that?” Rosealba’s cheeks flushed as his words resounded in her ear. Her body trembled slightly at the thought of it and the expression his face held when he uttered those nasty words to her.Her pussy tingled, and she suddenly regret running off the other day. She should have stayed and learned what it felt like to have him tasting her pussy lips. Weird— it was the weirdest she had ever been. Getting home to check what her pussy lips looked like. It was the nastiest she had ever done, yet every action and every recall of his nasty words had her pussy throbbing, so hard till she was propelled to touch herself to the crafted image of him that her mind had presented, and only stopped when she was trashing back and forth with the intensity of her orgasm. It was difficult to comprehend— how she had turned from the insensitive Rosealba to one whose pussy dripped at the sight of a mare man—ma
Chapter 25. His words raw and dirty, like a blow, struck Rosealba’s ear and she stared at him, with an uncertain expression. No one ever came so raw and dirty with words or her, yet her pussy made a gentle throb to his words and her mind pictured a perfect image of what he had described. Drystan took a step forward, closing the space between them. Rosealba swallowed hard, feeling her nipples grow underneath her bra. She turned and walked over to the table breathing the moment of silence and tension. “The meal here was delicious.” Her voice came out shaky betraying her attempt to shield her erect nipples from his hungry eyes. A smile touched Drystan’s cheeks one that didn't reach his eye. He moved closer to her, so close that she stilled her body, hoping they would not make contact, but Drystan leaned further pressing the front part of his body to the back side of her body, and caging her between his arm and the table in front of them. “The meal here would be nothing
The ride to the location was peaceful. Rosealba settled into the chair, her thoughts straying far away— the gentle peck he placed on her forehead and the sensation it sent down her spine. It was maddening— reacting to something as small as just a kiss. Not even a touch from Lowel could make her body stiffen that way. ****“My lord.” A tall man dressed In all back appeared In front of them and bowed his head slightly. Drystan waved a hand and the black man, Dicko understood immediately. He raised his head and moved closer to Drystan “My lord. The restaurant has been reserved according to your order.”“Good.” That was the only response that came from it, it was sharp and informing. Without further hesitation, Dicko bowed and walked off. “Let's go,” Drystan mumbled taking Rosealba's hand into his and she could not help but notice the tenderness in his voice when he spoke those two words to her, they were different from the way he spoke to the scary-looking body guys. A lot of thin
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
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
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
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
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