Her Pov:And I break down into tears. I lie there and cry. But it's as if even the tears are not able to wash off the pain I am feeling. My hands find the remaining fabric of the cloth as I pull them up, covering the front of my body as my body shakes uncontrollably and my breathing got hitched as I cry.. My throat is burning, my skin is stinging, and my whole body is paining from the ruff manhandling. I don't know how long I was on the floor crying, breaking down.. But then I slowly pulled my body up as I stood on my feet. I take off my high heels off and throw them away as I drag my exhausted body towards the bathroom. I am still trembling as I lock the bathroom door and stand in front of the mirror. And a plaintive cry leaves my mouth as I see myself in the mirror as I let my gown fall to my feet. There's a bruise on my neck, which turns purple because of how much pressure he put on his hold. It seems like my body was attacked by an animal as there are blue and purple hickeys all
His Pov:I watch her storm off the dance floor, her movements sharp and deliberate, as if she's desperate to escape—from me, my touch, my very existence. My jaw tightens, and I clench my fists, the thin thread of my patience stretched to its limit.Her heels click against the polished floor, each step echoing like a taunt, daring me to follow. And I do. My stride is slower, more controlled, though every fibre of my being screams for me to catch up, to grab her wrist and demand an explanation. But I don’t. Not yet.Instead, I watch the tension in her shoulders, the way her breath hitched when she leaves the dance floor and rushes to the upstairs. She’s running from me, but she should know by now—there’s nowhere she can go where I won’t find her.I don’t follow her. Instead, I reach for a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, letting the cool stem of the glass ground me as I retreat to the shadowed corner of the hall. Around me, the room hums with life—laughter spilling over muted c
His Pov:" What the fuck is happening here?" The words leave my mouth as I couldn't move my feet to them. And Roslaina flinches away from David as David turns and looks at me with shock in his face.I stepped closer to Rosalina, my chest heaving as I tried to keep my emotions in check. David opened his mouth, probably to explain himself, but every word that spilt out felt like a slap to my face-a cruel reminder of how deeply, he'd betrayed me. Each syllable was like fuel poured onto the fire already raging in my gut.Without thinking, I swung. My fist connected with his jaw, and the impact sent a jolt through my arm, but it wasn't enough to douse the storm inside me. I only hit him because he's my brother- because some twisted sense of loyalty held me back. If it had been anyone else standing in his place, there wouldn't be words to exchange. They'd already be lying six feet under, the dirt sealing their fate.But David wasn't just anyone. That fact made this hurt so much worse. And
His Pov:A smirk creeps on my face as I take in a deep breath. You are fucked up Ms. Rosalina Roseburg...I yank off my bow tie, its tightness mirroring the emotions choking me inside. Tossing it across the room, I step toward her, but she keeps retreating, inching further away from me.I fist my palm as I watch her crawling away from me. That helpless look on her face makes me feel more enraged. A muscles in my jaw tickles from how hard I have clenched it from how she pulls back from me everything.Sweat trickles down my skin from all the overwhelming emotions that I felt in ages. My body is piping hot as I can't bear the burden of the feelings I am feeling. The emotions I burried somewhere deep within me for ages are urging to burst out as I crush them deeper. It’s as if every suppressed thought, every buried ache, is clawing its way to the surface, demanding to be acknowledged. My breath comes in shallow gasps, each one a desperate attempt to steady the storm raging inside me.I t
His pov:" Fuckkk!" A loud groan leaves ny mouth as I take my belt from the bed and slam the door close behind me, leaving her alone in the room.I clench my fist hard as I try to contempt what I am feeling. I take fast steps down the stairs as I feel the need to pour something down my throat. Something strong enough to cool my nerves down.I reach to dad's office as I take out the Balkan Vodka the strongest one of the collection as I pour it into a glass and drink it one go. I pour another shot for me as one is not enough for what I am feeling. It's so close to what people call rage... A useless feeling that can ruin anything and everything a person has...I am the most credited person in the world of mafias of holding on to my emotions .. Of being the person with the least shades of emotions. But today.. It's like my years of training coming to a fail as I am taking shots after shots to calm my nerves, but it just ends up being more powerful. I know she's not worth it. She's not w
Her Pov:I’m so tired… utterly drained. I don’t even know how long I’ve been trapped in this endless void of darkness. Is this what the afterlife feels like? A suffocating abyss where time has no meaning, and hope is but a distant memory?I’ve been wandering through these shadowed corridors, my footsteps echoing in the silence, searching—desperately—for a single glimpse of light. But no matter how far I go or how hard I try, the darkness stretches on, infinite and unyielding.It feels as though the shadows are alive, whispering secrets I can’t understand, pressing down on me, pulling me deeper into their cold embrace. My legs are heavy, my breath shallow, yet I keep moving, driven by an aching need for something—anything—to break this suffocating monotony.There's no track of time in here. I don't know for how long I am stuck in here. For how long I have been wandering... But I can't stop. I drag my weary figure through the path in search of a little glimpse of light. Sometimes I hea
Her Pov:The whole garden is turning into a haze disappearing into the thin air...No......My eyes snap open, and for a few moments, I stare blankly, struggling to make sense of my surroundings. Then, a sharp burst of light forces me to squeeze them shut. Slowly, I open them again, this time adjusting to the brightness. My gaze first locks onto the ceiling before drifting to the other objects in the room. Everything feels hauntingly familiar...No way... Am I.. Am I in his room? But how?My eyes shift and settle on the figure seated in a chair next to me. His face is obscured, likely because he's asleep, slumped forward in the chair, with his head resting on the bed beside my outstretched body.But even if his face is not in my view somehow, I can tell it's the owner of this room. Leonardo... But what is he doing here? Why is he sleeping like this, and that too beside me with... with my hand in his...I jerk my hand away from his grasp, but a sharp whimper escapes my lips as pain fla
Her Pov:I was just about to get up on my feet when the door swings open and Leonardo gets in. His gaze runs over me as he watches me. His dead eyes beholding first shock, and then his eyes they darken as he moved closer, taking in the situation. " What the fuck do you think you are doing Rosalina?" He hisses as he moved to me.I don't answer him as I ignore him and get up on feet. A whimper leaves my mouth as my feet touch the cold ground, and I stumble as I feel the whole world roaming around me. I am about to fall to the ground, losing my balance before a hand slips around my waist, breaking my fall." Are you okay?" He asks me as his gaze softens as he watches me with something that is very unusual. His dark hair fell to his forehead as his breath fans over my lips as he held me so close to him.I push him with all my strength as I struggle to stand on my feet, taking him by surprise. " What the fuck, Rosalina? What happened?" He asks me as I can see his eyes turning almost sha
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
His Pov:My grip on the spoon tightens, the metal cool against my skin as I absorb her words. My gaze sharpens, studying her carefully, measuring the weight of what she’s just said."Even when she was sick most of the time?" My voice is quiet but firm, edged with something I can’t quite name—curiosity, disbelief, maybe even fear. I test the question as if pressing on a bruise, unsure if it will bring relief or pain.She meets my eyes, and for a moment, I think I see hesitation flicker there. But then she nods slowly, deliberately, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Yeah."I wait for her to elaborate, for her to fill the silence stretching between us, heavy with things unsaid. And then, as if sensing my need for more, she does."Even then. Because love isn’t about convenience," she murmurs, her voice steady, but there’s something raw beneath it, something real. "It isn’t about ease or perfection. It’s about staying. Even when it’s hard. Even when it hurts. It’s about choosing them,
Her Pov:"I have only ever cooked for you."The words roll off his tongue so smoothly, so effortlessly, yet their weight settles thick in the space between us, heavy like the scent of something simmering too long on the stove—rich, intoxicating, impossible to ignore.He doesn’t look at me, but he doesn’t have to. He knows I’m staring. Knows my lips have parted just slightly, knows my breath has hitched in my throat.He can feel it—the shift in the air, the way the room seems to shrink around us, pulling us into something close, something intimate. The way my fingers tighten around the edge of the counter, as if bracing myself for the impact of something I don’t quite understand.Because there is something here. Something unspoken, something undeniable. It coils between us like the heat from the stove, like the scent of charred sugar and slow-burning longing. My pulse hammers against my ribs, and still, he doesn’t look at me.But I know he feels it, too.And for the first time in what
His pov:“Say it.”My voice is low, rough, an unrelenting command wrapped in a whisper. “Say you’re mine.”She stiffens, her breath coming in uneven gasps, her lips trembling as if she wants to speak but can't force the words out. Her hands, small and delicate, tremble at her sides, fingers curling as if gripping onto invisible resolve. Her lashes flutter, her throat bobs in a shallow swallow, and I see it—the war raging inside her.She won’t say it. Not yet. But I need to hear it. I need the syllables to spill from her lips, to wrap around me like chains, to solidify what I already know to be true. She belongs to me. And soon, she’ll understand that. She’ll surrender. She’ll accept it. She has no choice—I’ll make sure of it.A slow smirk tugs at my lips as I move, scooping her into my arms with ease. Her body is light, fragile against mine, but she gasps, startled, her fingers fisting the fabric of my shirt near my chest. I feel the tremor in her touch, the unspoken question lingerin
Her Pov:"Good girl." He murmurs.. I barely register the words at first, but when they sink in—when I hear the way he murmurs them, low and satisfied—something inside me snaps."Good girl."The moment shatters, and I am dragged back into reality with a force so jarring it makes my head spin. What the fuck am I even doing? How could I have parted my lips for him, given him the chance to take control again?Again.My stomach twists violently as shame and fury war within me. Just this afternoon, his hands had been on me, fingers tracing my skin with a possessiveness that made my knees weak.I hadn't resisted. I hadn't fought. Instead, I had melted—melted into his touch, into his heat, into the way his breath had ghosted over my skin like a promise he had no intention of keeping.But him—he’s cruel.He felt it. I know he did. The heat between us, the raw, unspoken hunger. And yet, just when the fire threatened to consume us both, he had pulled away. Like it meant nothing. Like I meant no
Her Pov:"What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Rosalina?" His voice is a low growl, rough and edged with something I can’t quite name. His breath fans over my lips, scorching and suffocating, as his darkened eyes pin me in place. His jaw is tight, a muscle ticking as if he’s barely holding himself back.My throat constricts my chest tight with the realization that even death is not an escape. Even in my most desperate moment, he still found me, still pulled me back from the abyss. There is no outrunning him. No hiding. No freedom from the force that is him. And that realization sends a bolt of frustration through me.With a strangled breath, I shove at his shoulder. "Why do you care?" I hiss, my voice shaking with a mix of anger and something far more dangerous.But before I can push him away, he moves—faster than I can react. His hand clamps around both of my wrists, forcing them above my head in one swift motion.My back collides with the cold wall, my pulse hammering as his b