Her Pov:My eyes widen as fresh tears trail down my cheeks. He's still leaning against the shelf as his eyes are scanning my whole body, taking me in. " Move your hands, Rosalina." He states at a low voice, gesturing towards my crossed hands covering my brasts. His tone leaves no room for negotiation. I shake my head, letting him know I am not going to do it. Even if I am terrified of him at the moment but I am not going to take off my hands. It's like giving away my body to him on my own will. And I have no will to associate myself with him in anything he wishes to do with me.He nods his head a little. " Your call, Rosalina." His lips curve a little to a little to no smile before it disappears. And the smile only holds cruelty. His smile is as dead as his eyes.Suddenly, he reaches out to me, his hand gets a hold of my nape as he pulls me towards him in a span of a second, taking me by surprise. My naked body clashes with his body. I felt clashing with a wall of muscles. But I di
His Pov:" Clean up the library and throw everything out." I state to a maid as I walk to my bedroom with her in my arms.I can't come on terms with what just happened. It's like I totally lost all control that I have on myself. And that's what is disturbing me cause I am known as someone with the utmost control and patience in the community. But when it comes to her..I look at her. I look at the cause of unrest, my confusion. She's almost weightless in my arms. She's so small so petite but this 5 feet 3 inch of existence is making me restless. Making me question every of my ethics, every of my expression , every of my fucking action. I watch her. Her tears dried and left a stain on her flushed cheeks. But those lashes are still wet. Her lips has a cut from all the biting she did. Her hair is all messy and her expression is not really peaceful. She has a tensed look even when she is not in her senses. When I fucked her last time it was just to claim the authority on her. To show he
Her Pov: I am so tired.. I don't know what I am living for anymore.. Am I only alive for others to use me like a fucking toy.. To use me and throw me away... Whatever I see wherever I see all I see is black. Darkness.. I am surrounded by darkness.. I am held captive in darkness, or maybe my soul itself has turned black. I thought Leonardo would return me my passport and I would go back to my country and start a new life there for myself. I want to look for Antonio.. I want to ask him why he did this to me.. Why did he destroy me? Did he ever even love me? All the moments we had... All conversations.. every touch.. Was it all just meaningless to him? A fucking game for him?Maybe I was never meant to be loved. My mom loved me she died because of the very love she had for me... My grandma also left me alone just after a few years later. And now... I am on the edge of meeting them. Because of this, very love...I squeeze my eyes shut. To cry to shed tears, but my tears dried up. All I
Her Pov:He takes off the muffler he's wearing and bends a little while still keeping his hold on my forearm. My eyes shot up to him." What are you doing?" " You ask too many questions, don't you?" He wraps the muffler around my neck, making me feel things...Things that I should not feel.... He's so close to me that I can smell his intoxicating smell like wood and leather as he wraps the muffler around my neck. I can't look past how his eyes are zeroed on my neck or how his breath is creating a slight sensation on my skin ..Wait.. What the fuck am I thinking? What has happened to me? This man forced him on me. Not once but twice. He is not a person but a monster. But then.. Then why do I feel like this? Why, when he's so close, all I see hear smell or feel is him! No... This is not how it is.. I am just confused.. My feelings are just too mixed up.. It has nothing to do with him. I will leave him one way or another anyway. It's just a matter of time. I won't let all these get to
Her Pov:He takes my hand in his and almost drags me out of the mansion. As soon as we reach out side, I jerk my hand free from his as his hold on my hand is way too strong. It almost felt like he would break my wrist. I message my wrist as it's almost bruised. Is he crazy or what? I looked at him, but he didn't even take a glance at me as he told one of the guards to prepare the cars.After a moment, a black sedan parked in front of us as we got in, and our journey started. 4 cars filled with men dressed in black started to follow our car. Leonardo is busy with his phone as I steal a glance at him. Just what does he do? Since the very first time we met, I could tell he's an influential person. But with every passing day, I am wondering what he exactly does to be this influential that he needs four cars of people following us around.I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realise I was still looking at him before he turned his face to me. I quickly turned my face away from his a
Her Pov:I slip out of the sedan as I almost crawl outside. A few more steps, and there's the gate of the construction site leading outside.I get up and slowly walk to the gate of the construction site. With a few steps, I will be out of here. My chest tightened as if an invisible hand clenched my ribs. Each step towards the gate seemed to echo with voices from my first day in Italy—whispers of fear, shadows of memories dragging me back.Leonardo told me to stay in the car. What will happen when he sees I have run away? I don't have my passport with me... What will I do? How will I survive? What if Leonardo finds me?I force them on the back of my head. I won't get this chance again. I will have to take it nonetheless. Once I am away from here, I can probably make a way out of here.I turn around and take a last glance at Leonardo. He's giving me his back on this side. And the guards of his are beating the people they have caught from the SUVs. The air is full of their painful screa
His Pov:I slam the door behind me. I needed to leave the room, or I would have killed her by now. Her words enraged me more than it should have. Her influence on me is getting stronger with every passing day. And I can't afford that. I would have just killed her if I hadn't loosened my hold on her neck. I don't understand when she had gotten that much effect on me that all I could see was red. I couldn't see anything past that. Her seemingly not wanting me always irritated me. But when she admitted that she wants to fucking get rid of me I felt something I didn't know I was capable of feeling.She's so desperate to get rid of me that among the guns and guns shots, all she could think of was escaping me, making me want to thrash something or squeeze the life out of someone. It's true that I have no reason to keep her, but I can't let go of her. Yet. I can't. But she can. She wants to leave me, and it makes me enraged. To the point I almost killed her today! She was just doing okay
Her Pov:He slams the door behind him and leaves as I am on the floor trying to catch my breath, stupefied and scared stiff.I feel tears welling up in my eyes, still not being able to breathe properly. Sweat forms on my forehead as my mouth and throat are burning and aching from his chokehold. I taste metal in my mouth from biting on my lips due to pain. I still can't get over what just happened. I tried to stop my hands from shaking as my mind kept playing of him strangling me. No mercy in those dead eyes. No second thought, no hesitation in those hazal eyes...I didn't know, behind the Leonardo, I knew there was such a beast hidden. I assumed it after that day he fucked me but I never could have thought that the beast that is hidden inside him might be his real identity. The rest of it is just a facade. It's just a show for the world. And he plays it very well. Too well that a freaking murderer is roaming free outside.I was always kind of scared of him even though he had never sho
Her POV:“Pack your clothes, Rosalina.”His voice is smooth, commanding—so effortlessly authoritative that it leaves no room for defiance. But beneath that polished control, there’s something else. An edge of impatience. A quiet demand that brooks no refusal.I freeze, my grip tightening around the phone. Leaving?“P-Pack my clothes?” My voice comes out uncertain, barely above a whisper. My heart is already hammering against my ribs. “But why? Where are we going?”A pause. Just long enough to make my breath hitch. And then, finally—“Paris.”The word drops like a stone, heavy, and final.I forget to breathe. Forget that he’s still on the line. I just stand there, the phone pressed to my ear, my mind struggling to process what he just said.Paris? Is he serious? Is this some kind of twisted joke?My stomach clenches as reality crashes into me like a tidal wave. He slept with me once, and now he thinks he owns me? Does he really believe that because last night, I’ll just follow him like
His Pov:I made Rosalina breakfast before leaving early. My father was heading home today, and I needed to speak with him before he did. He had probably already heard everything from Eliza. Knowing her, it was likely all over the place by now.I arrived at his condo, where his men escorted me inside. I didn’t bring any of my people, except for my driver. This conversation wasn’t meant for witnesses.The room was dimly lit, the scent of burning tobacco thick in the air. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to me, exhaling a slow stream of smoke as he observed the city below. His presence alone was a quiet warning—controlled, dangerous, absolute. At least we have something in common. "I heard you wanted to see me." His voice was deep, calm—unbothered. He didn’t turn to acknowledge me, and I didn’t care."Yes," I replied, my tone just as cold. "That’s why I’m here."Our relationship was nothing like what a father and son should share. No warmth. No sentiment. Just business.
Her Pov:When I open my eyes, the golden light of morning is already spilling through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues. I blink, my body heavy, sore. My gaze drifts around the room, searching for him, but he's nowhere to be seen. The sheets beside me are cold.I shift, trying to sit up, but a sharp ache between my legs makes me freeze. A whimper escapes my lips. Last night… he didn’t hold back. Not even a little. He took me as if restraint was a foreign concept, as if I belonged to him in a way that denied the need for gentleness. And now, I can still feel him—his presence lingering inside me, on me, all around me.I exhale shakily, dragging my body up against the headboard, each movement a reminder of his merciless touch. That’s when I noticed the bedside table. A plate of buttered toast, a cup of coffee still warm, a glass of water, and… painkillers.My throat tightens. He thought of this. He knew. A contradiction wrapped in flesh and bone—that’s what he is. One moment,
His Pov:I lay her down on my bed, her body trembling beneath me, barely holding onto her senses after I fucked her. Hard. Deep. Like I needed to brand myself into her very being. Like I needed her to feel me long after I was gone. Her breath is uneven, her lips parted, swollen from my kisses, her skin still flushed with heat. And yet, the fire in her eyes hasn't dimmed. That defiant glare, that sharp tongue—God, she gets under my skin in ways I can’t even put into words.I hadn’t planned to fuck her like that. Not there. Not then. But I couldn’t hold myself back. Not when she looked at me like that. Not when her voice dripped with accusations, with detest, with anger that cut deeper than I wanted to admit. Not when she threw those words at me, her voice laced with bitterness—" What did you think, huh? She's a slut anyway. Why would she mind being a mistress?"That hit me. Hard.Like a fucking gut punch I wasn’t prepared for. The way she degraded herself, reduced herself to something
His Pov: When the bell rang, I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders back, forcing the tension from my muscles. But it was still there. That feeling. That goddamn feeling I hadn't been able to shake since earlier tonight. Since her. She had cooked for me. And I’d fucking stood there, frozen, watching her shift nervously under my gaze, her fingers fidgeting, her cheeks flushed like she wasn’t sure if what she’d done was right. Like she was afraid I’d dismiss it. Dismiss her. That softness in her voice, the unspoken need in her eyes—it did something to me. Twisted something deep in my gut. No one had ever done that before. Not for me. People feared me. Respected me. Needed me. But no one… cared. No one gave without expecting something in return. No one saw me as a man—just a force, a means to an end. But she did. And it was fucking unsettling. Because I didn’t do softness. Didn’t do warmth. Those things made a man weak. Made him vulnerable. And yet, standing there, listening to
Her Pov:"Don't fucking touch me..." I hiss and his eyes darken so much they get just like the night.Dark... Unsettling...He tilts his head a little as a smirk takes over his face. A smirk is so dangerous. As he leans over me, his mouth reaches just to the shell of my ear as his hand squeezes my hands painfully."You..." His voice is low, a dark promise against my skin as his hand drifts up my thigh, slipping beneath the soft folds of my baby pink dress."Don't..." A breath catches in my throat as his fingers graze the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh, teasing, lingering."Get to..." His lips ghost over the shell of my ear, warm and tantalizing, sending a shiver down my spine."Stop me."I try to push his hand away, my fingers wrapping around his wrist in a feeble attempt to resist, but he doesn’t yield. Instead, he presses me back, pinning me against the cold railing with nothing but his presence. A gasp escapes me—a sharp intake of breath, equal parts defiance and submission. His
Her Pov:The glass slips from my fingers.Time slows as it falls, spinning through the air before crashing against the marble floor. The sound of shattering fills the room—a sharp, piercing noise. But I don’t hear it. Not really. Not over the deafening silence that rings in my ears, the blood roaring through my veins. I don’t even feel the icy droplets of water splattering against my bare skin, the tiny shards slicing against my ankles.Because all I can see is them.She is draped against him, her body moulded to his like she was made to fit there. A short red dress clings to every soft curve, vibrant against her golden skin, her blonde hair cascading in waves over her shoulders. She is stunning. Effortless. Everything I am not. And her hands—those delicate, manicured fingers—are cradling his face with a familiarity that makes my stomach churn. Like she belongs there.And him?His lips.His lips are on hers.The breath in my lungs vanishes, like I’ve been punched in the chest, hard en
Her Pov:It has been two weeks since I found out I was addicted to drugs. Two whole weeks of living through a walking nightmare, clawing my way through withdrawal, fighting demons I never even knew existed inside me. The past fourteen days have been nothing short of hell. My body revolted against me, turning into a prison of agony and desperation. Sleepless nights melted into torturous days, where reality blurred into something grotesque. Nightmares didn't stay confined to sleep; they slithered into my waking moments, twisting shadows into monsters, whispering voices into my ears that weren’t there. My own mind betrayed me, playing tricks so cruel I lost touch with what was real and what wasn’t.I would wake up drenched in sweat, heart hammering against my ribs, gasping as if I had just surfaced from drowning. My skin burned and froze at the same time. My stomach twisted into knots of nausea that never truly left. Some days, the weakness was so severe that even the act of standing
His Pov:And I’m still paying her back.Even now.But here’s the truth I’ve been avoiding—the truth that stings like a blade pressed against my throat.I didn’t remember Aunt Rachel.I only remembered the debt.I buried her somewhere deep, in the same place I shoved all the emotions I refused to feel, all the memories too painful to hold. She was lost in the graveyard of everything I had to kill inside myself just to survive.But then—I look at her.At the woman sleeping just a few feet away. At the slow rise and fall of her chest, at the softness in her face now that she isn’t watching me with those sharp, searching eyes.And suddenly, she’s there.Aunt Rachel.Because of her.Because of the words she murmured so carelessly, not realizing they were pulling something out of me, I thought it was long dead. Not realizing how easily she’s stripping away the armour I’ve spent years building.She doesn’t even know.She has no fucking idea what she’s doing to me.She shifts restlessly, her