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Part 55
Last Updated:
2025-02-11 23:55:38
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His Poisoned Rose   Part 56
His Pov:I suck in a sharp breath, struggling to steady my racing pulse as I slam the door shut behind me. Her eyesâcold, filled with nothing but raw hatred. Not just anger. It's not just pain. But pure, unfiltered loathing. The way she looked at me, the way she recoiled, as if my very presence was something vile.And then her wordsâno, not words. A threat. A warning laced with venom. Donât touch me.As if my touch was poison. As if I hadnât already done enough damage.I stepped out, forcing distance between us, not because I wanted toâbut because for the first time, I feared that staying would only shatter her more.âNoah, call the doctor,â I grit out, my voice sharp with urgency.He nods and rushes off without hesitation. I barely have time to take another breath before he returns, followed by a group of doctors and nurses, their hurried footsteps echoing through the hallway. They push past me, swarming around her, their voices a blur of medical jargon and clipped orders.I take a s
Last Updated : 2025-02-12His Poisoned Rose   Part 57
His Pov: Because for the first time in my life, someone else's suffering felt worse than my own.No... I can't walk away. I won't... My steps falter as I halt in my way. She has to know that she is not pregnant with my child. Her fucking wish came true. And also... She has to know what is wrong with her. She has to know about her addiction. She has to answer my every single fucking questions. Why did she never once mention the drugs she used to take? Addiction to drugs is not something that happens over the day.She has to crave for them. But then... Why did she never ask me for them? Let's say she was hesitant, maybe afraid. But then why did she never try to get them behind my back? How can she be so dumb that she never realised that she's addicted to the drugs she was dependent on?I turn to go back to her cabin, but my phone buzzes in my pocket, making me halt. I take out my phone as I see the contact on the screen, Father. If it was in other circumstances, I would have ignored
Last Updated : 2025-02-13His Poisoned Rose   Part 58
His Pov:All? Maybe not all... Maybe except her...Rosalina... Almost all except the one with her.... Because with her, neither do I have gratitude for her nor do I have any profit keeping her. But do I even have any relation with her? No.... She's....She's just there... Without any relation...Except maybe the one I have with her. The relation of an owner and a property.I shake that thought of for now as I focus back to Father's question. "I have information on them. Either they give us the deal or they meet their ruin." I conclude as father drags a smoke emphasising on every of my single words before a smile creeps on his face very slowly.A year ago, the Irishes tried to smuggle drugs and illegal weapons at Milan, and they succeeded. Or so do they think. Neither the smuggled drugs nor the illegal weapons reached their destination. Their first crime was to smuggle the drugs and those weapons in my fucking arena and their second crime was to ever underestimate what Leonardo Luciano
Last Updated : 2025-02-14His Poisoned Rose   Part 59
His Pov:I watch her, and my blood turns to ice as rage floods my veins, burning hotter than fire. All I see is red. Whoever did thisâwhoever made her look at me like thisâwill suffer. I will tear him apart, rip the flesh from his bones, and paint my walls with his blood for daring to break her like this. For putting that fear in her eyes.She stands before me, trembling, her face drained of all colour, her soft features twisted in a way I have never seen before. Horrorâof that bastardâbleeds into her wide, stricken eyes, turning them into bottomless wells of unspoken terror. It knocks the breath from my lungs, an invisible hand wrapping around my throat, squeezing.She looks at me as though I am something unspeakable. Something she can not bear to see. And even though she just took someone else's name but she looks at me with that gaze of her. At me..The weight of it crushes down on me, thick and suffocating, coiling around my ribs like a vice. My mind races, grasping for a reason,
Last Updated : 2025-02-15His Poisoned Rose   Part 60
His Pov: I run my fingers through her silky dark brown hair, feeling the tremors of her quiet sobs as they shake her fragile frame. Her fists clutch desperately at my shirt, the fabric growing damp with her tearsâbut I couldn't care less. What mattered was the way she fit against me, small and trembling, as if she was trying to disappear into my presence.I inhale deeply, letting the scent of roses and a faint trace of antiseptic medicine wrap around my senses. It clings to her like a ghost of past pain, something she hasnât quite escaped.A voice cuts through the air."Boss?" Noah's tone is careful, laced with a quiet reverence. He knows better than to intrude, but heâs checkingâensuring the situation is under control.Rosalina stiffens at the sound, suddenly aware of herself, and I feel her attempt to pull away. But I donât allow it. Not yet. I know she isnât ready, not when her body still trembles against mine, not when I can still feel the uneven rhythm of her breathing.Without
Last Updated : 2025-02-16His Poisoned Rose   Part 61
His Pov:She sleeps so soundly, as if yesterday never happened. As if she wasnât trembling in my arms, her lips quivering, her entire body frozen in terror. But I remember. I remember too damn well. The way she looked at meâ not as me, but as someone else. Marco.That name alone makes my jaw clench. The sheer hatred in her gaze, the raw fearâit wasn't for me. It was for him. But why? How? What did she see in me that made her mistake me for him?The questions claw at me, relentless. I need answers. I need to know.I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Noah. He picks up on the first ring.âNoah, tell the doctor Iâll be there in ten minutes.â My voice is sharp, commanding.âYes, boss.â His response is immediateâexactly as it should be.I toss the phone onto the bedside table and run a hand through my hair. The need for control is second nature, but right now, I feel anything but. She has shaken something in me, something dark and restless. I donât like it. I donât understand it.I move
Last Updated : 2025-02-17His Poisoned Rose   Part 62
Her Pov:The warmth of the morning sun kissed my skin, pulling me from the depths of sleep. My eyes fluttered open, instinctively searching for himâthe man who held me captive in his arms last night. Or had I sought refuge there on my own? I couldnât tell anymore.I shouldnât have found solace in his embrace. I shouldnât have let his presence calm the storm inside me. Yet, against all logic, my pulse had synced with his, beating in unison like a whispered secret in the dark. He is unravelling me, twisting my thoughts, blurring the lines between captor and comfort.He confuses me. He really doesâŠI donât know what he wants from me anymore. His actions, his wordsâthey contradict each other so effortlessly that I can no longer tell what is real and what is a carefully crafted illusion. Just yesterday afternoon, he shattered me. With nothing but his words, he carved wounds deep into my soul, forcing me to face a truth I was never ready to accept. He didnât soften the blow, didnât offer co
Last Updated : 2025-02-18His Poisoned Rose   Part 63
Her Pov:âWho is Marco, Rosalina?âThe words hit like a dagger to my spine.And I freeze. My breath catches in my throat, my pulse hammering against my ribs. How... how does he know? His nameâI barely whispered it last night, a fragile sound lost in the dark, one I wasn't even sure had escaped my lips. And yet, he knows. Of course, he does.A shiver snakes down my spine, part fear, part something elseâsomething I refuse to name. I should have known better. He notices everything. Every glance, every hesitation, every breath I take when he's near.And now, he wants answers. His voice is calm, but I feel the weight of his question pressing against my skin, sinking into my bones. Once again, it's him in control. Him demanding. Me unraveling.I should answer. I should give him somethingâanything. But do I have to? Am I truly bound to obey? Am I really that powerless against him? That bound to lay myself bare, to show him the cracks in my armour, the trembling vulnerability beneath? If he
Last Updated : 2025-02-19
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His Poisoned Rose   Part 106
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 usâsoft 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 softânever 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
His Poisoned Rose   Part 105
Her Pov:I swallow hard, looking away from him for a second, trying to gather my thoughts. âIs that it?â I finally ask, my voice barely a whisper. The question lingers, hanging between us, almost absurd in its simplicity.âNo,â he says softly, his voice barely louder than the riverâs murmur. âThereâs more to be freed than just the fish.âI 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 heâs seeing through every wall Iâve 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."Theyâre just like me..." he whispers, the words soft but piercing, making my chest tighten. His eyes are intense,
His Poisoned Rose   Part 104
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 himâLeonardo, sitting beside me in the backseat, his presence heavy, commanding. He hasnât spoken much since we left, and I canât 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 heâs 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 nightâof him.Heat curls under my skin at the memory, but I push it away. He hasnât looked at me the same way since this morning, and I hate how that unsettles me. Like Iâm 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
His Poisoned Rose   Part 103
Her Pov:When I wake up, heâs 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 wasnât just trying to claim my body but my very soul. As if the mere act of having me wasnât enoughâhe needed to carve his presence into my skin, into my bones, into the deepest recesses of my mind. And whatâs worse? I had wanted it. I needed i
His Poisoned Rose   Part 102
***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 Iâve stared at it a thousand times. For a moment, I couldnât even remember where I wasâonly 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 donât know how long Iâve been here. Hours? Days? I canât tell. Sleep doesnât 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 bodyâmy entire beingâfelt like it wasnât 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
His Poisoned Rose   Part 101
***15 years ago***His Pov:Itâs 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 tooâtight and rough around my skullâcovering 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 donât even know how I survived.If David hadnât done something⊠if he hadnât begged or screamed for help⊠I wouldâve bled out right there at the bottom of those stairs, and no one wouldâve noticed until I started to rot.From the bits and pieces heâs let slip, I think he ran to the neighbours, knocked on their doors in the middle of the night, sobbing
His Poisoned Rose   Part 100
**15 years ago***His Pov:I donât 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. Heâd been with us the whole time, sitting close, occasionally throwing in jokes or grabbing the controller for his turn. It felt like family â 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 didnât exist.Until it did.Until everything shattered in a single heartbeat.A sharp sound cracked through the air â the dull,
His Poisoned Rose   Part 99
**15 Years Ago**His Pov:I flip through the crumpled, half-burned pages of the only thing I have leftâthe only thing she couldnât destroy. My fingers trace the torn edges carefully, like theyâre made of glass, like theyâll fall apart if I hold them too tight. The paper is stained, corners smudged, some pages singed at the ends. But itâs 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 itâs bleeding.Why does she always do this to me?Why does she always hate the things I love?I donât understand her. Iâve never understood her. No matter how much I try. Iâve always liked quiet thingsâbooks, 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 Poisoned Rose   Part 98
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 donât smokeânot usually. Iâve never needed vices to dull my mind, never sought escape in addiction or meaningless habits. Iâve always been above such weaknesses.And yet, here I am.Because of her.Sheâs 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 canât erase her from my mind. No matter how much I try, she lingersâher 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 meâso impossibly tight, so warm, so fucking
