Her Pov: My fingers tighten instinctively around my passport, gripping it as if itās the only thing anchoring me to reality. I could hear the heavy, deliberate sound of breathing behind me, sending chills racing down my spine. Slowly, I pushed myself to my feet, my movements careful and measured. My hands slipped behind my back, clutching my passport tightly, hiding it from view.As I turned, my gaze met his. He loomed over me, his presence overwhelming, his eyes dark and calculating. The menace in his expression was unmistakable, his towering figure watching me with an intensity that made the air around us feel suffocating.A slow, unsettling smile spreads across his face, a stark contrast to the storm brewing in his eyes. He moves with a calculated ease, slipping off his coat and tossing it carelessly onto the bed before lowering himself onto the edge.āThe house is in quite a state today,ā he says, his tone deceptively light, almost conversational. āI didnāt realize you had such
Her Pov:My breath catches as I pull my hand away, bringing it in front of me. My hand is coated in fessh blood as it trails down my hand. I... I stabbed him. My hand trembles as my breathing gets hitched in my throat. I stand there thunderbolt as I tried to process what I just did.Leonardo slowly moves his head from my neck as he looks at me. He looks at me as a rush of pain flashes through his hazel eyes before it vanishes into the hazel. His eyes are locked with my ice blue one as his hand moves to the back of his shoulder, where the knife is still stabbed deep within him. With one swift move, he pulls the knife out of him as he brings it in front of us. His eyes still locked on my face. But I couldn't meet his gaze as my eyes moved to the kitchen knife. Fresh blood dripping off it.. I just stabbed him with this knife.. I... I might have killed him." So you want to kill me now, Rosalina?" He strikes me with his deep voice, but I just stand there as if I can't move my body. No...
Her Pov:He murmurs under his breath before suddenly his arm wraps around my nape as he pulls my body against his as my front clashes with his bare chest, and he presses his lips on mine.My hand trails from his neck to his hair as I grasp them hard, but I dont stop him. I just couldn't stop him... That one second of when I looked at him, I saw something flicker in the deep hazel..Those eyes... His gaze holds something... Some raw unhealed emotion in them... And in one second, something changed. I didn't see the usual monster in him but a mirror. A mirror that holds the same raw emotions as me....He sucked my bottom lip in his mouth first before going for the upper lip, and then he sucked them both in his mouth before claiming his entrance in my mouth. His tongues trail inside my mouth, tasting every inch of my mouth.He's not just kissing me... He's claiming my fucking soul with the kiss .His pace keeps getting faster as he wrapped his other hand around my waist holding me closer t
His Pov:When Roslaina asked to come back to my apartment with me, a strange warmth filled my chest, something I hadnāt expected. It feltā¦ good. For reasons I couldnāt fully understand, her request brought a quiet sense of peace to my heart. She could have stayed at the mansion, especially with David there, but she chose to leave with me. Maybe, just maybe, Iād misjudged her all along.And yet, I had punished her so harshly that Iād driven her to the brink of ending her own life. Dr. Matteo said she was battling severe depression, and though I hated to admit it, a dark part of me knew the truthāI was likely the reason she reached that edge. The weight of my actions hung heavy on my chest, the thought that I had contributed to her despair gnawing at me. Iād pushed her too far, blinded by my own anger and assumptions, and now I had to face the unbearable consequences of what Iād done to her fragile spirit.Dr. Matteo urged me to stay close to her, to watch over her, ensuring she wouldn
His Pov:I could see it in the way her eyes glazed over, a silent horror swirling beneath the surface, as if she were afraid of what she had just doneāand perhaps even more afraid of what it meant about her now.And for some weird twisted reason, I pitied her... I fucking pitied her for stabbing me on my back. I, Leonardo Luciano, who never pitied a bloodied dying person begging for their lives to me who never pitied about someone's family, someone's company, or even my fate pitied the trembling girl before me.I lost my control over myself. Totally wholly for... her.... Rosalina.. I don't even know why I was shocked that she stabbed me. What was I expecting? In some part of my twsited beliefs, I believed that I couldn't be hurt by this one person. When, for me, every single person is on my radar. I trust none. And by none, I mean it. I keep checking on my own blood brother for the lack of trust I have in people. Then how could I.. How could I keep her off limit from my radar. It do
His Pov:"Why are you looking for the first aid?" I ask her with a calm and steady voice, though I know why she's looking for it.Her eyes shoot up to me, her lasbes slightly flatterybg as she watches me with disbelief in her ice blue eyes. " What type of dumb question is this! Because you are bleeding! If we don't treat it right away, you will lose a lot of blood."" But you want me to die, don't you? That's why you stabbed me... Then what are you trying to prove now?" I pull her closer to me by her forearm as I watch her. But she immediately lowers her eyes. Good.. It's working.. She didn't lower her eyes for once after she found out i am the one behind the death of the Kings. But just now, she did. She believes herself to be guilty even if she denies it now. "I didn't want you to die! I didn't want to stab you! It's all because of you!" Her voice cracks as tears run down her face. I look at her for a second contempting if I should push it more. Her hands are trembling as I hold h
His Pov:" Where is the first aid? Please, Leonardo, tell me please.. I beg you..." She pleas in hoarse voice choking on her tears as she tried hold me with her small hands that are now coated with blood... My blood.... This whole scene should be revolting. I should loathe her and tarnish her into nothing like she deserves after stabbing me on my back.But then something stops me. Maybe its the tears in her eyes that are trailing down her cheeks and staining them or maybe the helplessness in those eyes or her raspy voice that is full of concern or the mark of my mouth on the pale skin of her neck that is turning purple already or maybe its the blood smeared on her hands. But there's something common in all of them. They are all for me. All mine. The helpless, the tears , the concern or the way she chokes on her words or the desperation of saving me. Even the blood on her hands is of mine. Mine. She looks like mine. Literally and figuratively. And that view is something beautiful. S
His Pov: I don't know how long I fucked her. With her every shudder, every soft moan and every orgasm my need to own her only increased. The need to bury myself deeper to go deeper only intensified. I felt the sheer need to drown into her to profess every inch of her skin.After several rounds also the hunger I felt for her didn't edge. Instead, it intensified. I had more rounds to go on, but I could feel her body going limp and her strength demeaning. She was on the verge of losing her sense, and even though I wanted more but I pulled out of her. Because that stupid voice in my head didn't afford to hurt her,and even though I needed to be in her longer, I had to give into that voice. I don't think she can walk to the room as she's all sweated with my cum all over her. Her eyes half closed, and her pink lips slightly parted as she's lying on the cold surface of the table.She looks thoroughly and freshly fucked with my cum all over her body and marks on her neck breast thigh that I
Her Pov:The sun sinks lower over the Seine, casting molten gold across the water, painting the ripples with liquid fire. The city hums around usāsoft laughter from distant lovers drifting through the air, the rhythmic lapping of waves against the stone embankment, the whisper of the wind as it tangles through my dress.Paris feels like a dream, weightless and unreal, but Leonardo beside me is more vivid than anything else.He moves with his usual silent grace, his presence coiled and restrained, like a predator choosing patience over pursuit. The evening glow sharpens the angles of his face and deepens the shadows beneath his cheekbones, making him look like something sculpted from darkness itself. He is breathtaking, but never softānever safe.A sudden gust of wind sweeps in, lifting the hem of my dress, sending a shiver dancing up my spine. Before I can react, warmth engulfs me. Leonardo moves with a quiet swiftness that steals the breath from my lungs, pressing against my back, h
Her Pov:I swallow hard, looking away from him for a second, trying to gather my thoughts. āIs that it?ā I finally ask, my voice barely a whisper. The question lingers, hanging between us, almost absurd in its simplicity.āNo,ā he says softly, his voice barely louder than the riverās murmur. āThereās more to be freed than just the fish.āI glance up at him, but his expression remains unreadable, as always. But something in the way he looks at me makes my breath hitch, like heās seeing through every wall Iāve built.He steps closer, and I feel the heat of his presence before I even see him fully. The air between us thickens as though the world is holding its breath. I want to speak, to ask him everything, but my throat tightens, the words sticking in my chest. I stand there, frozen in place, as his gaze holds me captive, just as much as he claims to have done to the fish."Theyāre just like me..." he whispers, the words soft but piercing, making my chest tighten. His eyes are intense,
Her Pov:Paris stretches endlessly beyond the car window, a blur of elegant streets and towering architecture, but none of it holds my attention. All I see is himāLeonardo, sitting beside me in the backseat, his presence heavy, commanding. He hasnāt spoken much since we left, and I canāt tell if the silence between us is suffocating or intoxicating. Maybe both. His fingers tap lightly against his knee, his eyes staring straight ahead, but I know heās aware of every movement I make. Every breath.The ride stretches on for hours, the city fading into quieter roads, then almost nothingness. I shift uncomfortably, feeling the slight ache still lingering in my body, a reminder of last nightāof him.Heat curls under my skin at the memory, but I push it away. He hasnāt looked at me the same way since this morning, and I hate how that unsettles me. Like Iām standing on uneven ground, waiting for him to either pull me in or push me away.His two men sit in the front, quiet as ever, focused on
Her Pov:When I wake up, heās nowhere to be seen. The bed is cold beside me, as if he had left hours ago, yet the air still carries the ghost of his presence.Last night, he was all over me. When I drifted into sleep, it was with his scent wrapped around me, his breath mingling with mine, his body pressing down on me in a way that made me feel utterly possessed. Now, with the morning light streaming through the curtains, I feel the stark emptiness of his absence. My fingers brush over the sheets, still slightly wrinkled from where his hands had gripped me, from where his body had pinned me down as he took me, as he claimed me.A sharp ache pulses between my legs, a reminder of just how relentless he was. His thrusts had been merciless, as if he wasnāt just trying to claim my body but my very soul. As if the mere act of having me wasnāt enoughāhe needed to carve his presence into my skin, into my bones, into the deepest recesses of my mind. And whatās worse? I had wanted it. I needed i
***15 Years ago****His POV:When my eyes cracked open, it felt like waking from death itself.The ceiling above me swayed, blurry and unfamiliar, though Iāve stared at it a thousand times. For a moment, I couldnāt even remember where I wasāonly the weight of my limbs, the stickiness of blood dried across my skin, and the stinging throb radiating from every corner of my body. My breath came out jagged, uneven, as if my lungs had forgotten how to pull in air.I donāt know how long Iāve been here. Hours? Days? I canāt tell. Sleep doesnāt feel like sleep anymore. It feels like falling into some black hole and clawing my way back up every time, just to fall again.My bodyāmy entire beingāfelt like it wasnāt mine anymore.My skin prickled and burned, covered in sweat, filth, and blood. When I shifted, a sharp, tearing sensation ripped through my back and arms. I sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, forcing my eyes to move, to look down.Shards of glass.Tiny, jagged pieces embedded in
***15 years ago***His Pov:Itās been three days since my mother pushed me down the stairs.Three days since I felt my body crash against every hard step, bones snapping, skull cracking, everything blurring into nothingness before I blacked out.My right hand is fractured. They had to wrap it in plaster, sling it from my neck like a reminder of how breakable I really am. My head is bandaged tooātight and rough around my skullācovering the deep wound above my eyebrow where they stitched me back together. Seven stitches. I counted them when I woke up, fingers trembling as I traced the skin around them, wondering why I still felt so numb.I donāt even know how I survived.If David hadnāt done somethingā¦ if he hadnāt begged or screamed for helpā¦ I wouldāve bled out right there at the bottom of those stairs, and no one wouldāve noticed until I started to rot.From the bits and pieces heās let slip, I think he ran to the neighbours, knocked on their doors in the middle of the night, sobbing
**15 years ago***His Pov:I donāt even know how much time passed while we sat there, lost in the comfort of something that felt almost... normal. Maybe an hour. Maybe two. All I know is the sun had already started creeping higher, bleeding light through the half-closed curtains while we sat cross-legged on the floor of my room, controllers in hand, laughing at nothing and everything as we played my favourite video games.David had woken up too. Heād been with us the whole time, sitting close, occasionally throwing in jokes or grabbing the controller for his turn. It felt like family ā not the kind of family I grew up with, but the kind I used to dream about. A soft, peaceful, happy little bubble. It almost felt like Father's Home, when Aunt Rachel used to stay with us, making dessert while the TV buzzed in the background.For once, the world outside my door didnāt exist.Until it did.Until everything shattered in a single heartbeat.A sharp sound cracked through the air ā the dull,
**15 Years Ago**His Pov:I flip through the crumpled, half-burned pages of the only thing I have leftāthe only thing she couldnāt destroy. My fingers trace the torn edges carefully, like theyāre made of glass, like theyāll fall apart if I hold them too tight. The paper is stained, corners smudged, some pages singed at the ends. But itās still here. It's my favourite book. The only one I could save.A sharp sting burns the back of my eyes, and I blink hard, fighting the tears that keep coming even when I tell them not to. A droplet escapes anyway, falling on the brittle page in front of me. The black ink smudges under it like itās bleeding.Why does she always do this to me?Why does she always hate the things I love?I donāt understand her. Iāve never understood her. No matter how much I try. Iāve always liked quiet thingsābooks, cameras, and games. Things that let me disappear into a different world because this one hurts too much. But to her, those things are worthless. Nonsense.
His Pov:I stand on the balcony, the city lights flickering below like dying embers, as I take a slow drag from the cigarette I borrowed from one of my men. The smoke curls in the air, a temporary distraction, but even that isn't enough.I donāt smokeānot usually. Iāve never needed vices to dull my mind, never sought escape in addiction or meaningless habits. Iāve always been above such weaknesses.And yet, here I am.Because of her.Sheās made me crave, made me restless, and made me need.My fingers tighten around the cigarette, the burn at my fingertips, nothing compared to the fire coursing through me. I canāt erase her from my mind. No matter how much I try, she lingersāher ice-blue eyes wide and full of something between fear and defiance. Her swollen lips, parted and trembling. Her teary eyes, her breathy moans and her tight cunt all just leaves me hungrier.The way she looked at me, the way she sounded, the way she felt wrapped around meāso impossibly tight, so warm, so fucking