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Part 59
Last Updated:
2025-02-15 23:58:33
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His 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 tears—but 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 hasn’t 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 he’s checking—ensuring the situation is under control.Rosalina stiffens at the sound, suddenly aware of herself, and I feel her attempt to pull away. But I don’t allow it. Not yet. I know she isn’t 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 wasn’t 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 me— not as me, but as someone else. Marco.That name alone makes my jaw clench. The sheer hatred in her gaze, the raw fear—it 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.“Noah, tell the doctor I’ll be there in ten minutes.” My voice is sharp, commanding.“Yes, boss.” His response is immediate—exactly 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 don’t like it. I don’t 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 him—the man who held me captive in his arms last night. Or had I sought refuge there on my own? I couldn’t tell anymore.I shouldn’t have found solace in his embrace. I shouldn’t 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 does…I don’t know what he wants from me anymore. His actions, his words—they 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 didn’t soften the blow, didn’t offer co
Last Updated : 2025-02-18His Poisoned Rose   Part 63
Her Pov:“Who is Marco, Rosalina?”The 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 name—I 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 else—something 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 something—anything. 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 : 2025-02-19His Poisoned Rose   Part 64
His Pov:I storm out of her cabin, slamming the door behind me. My pulse hammers against my skull, my breaths coming in sharp, ragged bursts. My fingers flex and curl into a tight fist at my side, aching with the ghost of her throat still beneath them. It took everything in me to let go, to force my grip to loosen when all I wanted was to squeeze the truth out of her.She’s lying. I know she is. Even if the words coming from her lips hold some shred of truth, they aren’t the whole truth. And that eats at me like a slow-burning fire.My shoulders heave as I drag in a breath, trying to wrestle back control. But the fury doesn’t fade—it thrums in my veins, a caged beast pacing just beneath my skin. I saw the way she looked at Marco last night. Pure hatred. Loathing carved into every line of her face.Then why is she protecting him? Why does he matter so much to her?My jaw clenches, muscles flexing beneath the strain. My knuckles crack as my fist tightens. I want to destroy something. So
Last Updated : 2025-02-20His Poisoned Rose   Part 65
Her Pov:I freshen up and change my clothes into a coffee toned frock that reaches to my mid thigh. It's an off shoulder dress, Leomardo brought from his apartment, and that's when I see it.The marks of his fingers on my throat.Faint, but undeniable. Shadows of his touch, pressed into my skin, proof of the power he holds. He really did put pressure—enough to leave a mark. My breath stills as I lift my hand, fingertips hovering just above the bruises. A silent reminder. A warning. Or maybe something else entirely.A knock on the door makes me freeze. I open my hair and let them fall on my shoulder, a desperate try to hide the marks.It can't be Leonardo. He never knocks.Then, it has to be the doctor or one of his men."Come in..." My voice is steady, but my pulse isn’t. I step away from the mirror as the door swings open.A man stands at the threshold, dressed in all black. Tall, broad-shouldered, unfamiliar."Boss told me to escort you to the car." His tone is low, impersonal. His
Last Updated : 2025-02-21His Poisoned Rose   Part 66
Her Pov:And then, without hesitation, he lifts me.With just one arm, as if I weigh nothing to him.The air stills. My pulse stammers. My body presses against the heat of his, caught between fear and something far more dangerous.He carries me to the kitchen with effortless ease, settling me onto the cool surface of the table. The air between us is heavy, charged, as he pours another glass of water. Without a word, he presses a tablet against my lips, his fingers lingering there just a second too long. His dark eyes flicker with something unreadable, focused solely on my mouth as I part my lips and take the pill. I reach for the glass, swallowing, and as the water slides down my throat, his gaze follows its path—watching, waiting.Then he leans in, close enough that his breath brushes against my lips, warm and steady. His fingers move next, long and deliberate, starting just below my ear, tracing a slow, featherlight path down my neck.A shiver runs through me, but I don’t move. His
Last Updated : 2025-02-22His Poisoned Rose   Part 67
His Pov:I watch her from the corner of my eye as she gets into the car and shifts in her seat, her posture tense, fingers gripping the bag like it's a lifeline. She's trying to pretend she isn't affected, that she isn't carrying the weight of what happened last night, but I see it. I see everything.The marks on her throat, faint yet unmistakable. My marks.She saw them.I knew she would.I exhale slowly, keeping my gaze fixed on my phone, feigning indifference even as something dark coils inside me. Guilt? No. I don't regret it. But there's something about the way she tries to hide it with her hair that unsettles me in ways I refuse to name."Where are we going?" Her voice finally breaks the silence, tentative yet steady.I glance up, meeting her eyes for the first time since she got in the car. Her gaze is searching, desperate for answers, for clarity. I give her none."Home."The word lingers between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. She swallows hard, turning her face to the windo
Last Updated : 2025-02-23
Latest chapter
His Poisoned Rose   Part 67
His Pov:I watch her from the corner of my eye as she gets into the car and shifts in her seat, her posture tense, fingers gripping the bag like it's a lifeline. She's trying to pretend she isn't affected, that she isn't carrying the weight of what happened last night, but I see it. I see everything.The marks on her throat, faint yet unmistakable. My marks.She saw them.I knew she would.I exhale slowly, keeping my gaze fixed on my phone, feigning indifference even as something dark coils inside me. Guilt? No. I don't regret it. But there's something about the way she tries to hide it with her hair that unsettles me in ways I refuse to name."Where are we going?" Her voice finally breaks the silence, tentative yet steady.I glance up, meeting her eyes for the first time since she got in the car. Her gaze is searching, desperate for answers, for clarity. I give her none."Home."The word lingers between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. She swallows hard, turning her face to the windo
His Poisoned Rose   Part 66
Her Pov:And then, without hesitation, he lifts me.With just one arm, as if I weigh nothing to him.The air stills. My pulse stammers. My body presses against the heat of his, caught between fear and something far more dangerous.He carries me to the kitchen with effortless ease, settling me onto the cool surface of the table. The air between us is heavy, charged, as he pours another glass of water. Without a word, he presses a tablet against my lips, his fingers lingering there just a second too long. His dark eyes flicker with something unreadable, focused solely on my mouth as I part my lips and take the pill. I reach for the glass, swallowing, and as the water slides down my throat, his gaze follows its path—watching, waiting.Then he leans in, close enough that his breath brushes against my lips, warm and steady. His fingers move next, long and deliberate, starting just below my ear, tracing a slow, featherlight path down my neck.A shiver runs through me, but I don’t move. His
His Poisoned Rose   Part 65
Her Pov:I freshen up and change my clothes into a coffee toned frock that reaches to my mid thigh. It's an off shoulder dress, Leomardo brought from his apartment, and that's when I see it.The marks of his fingers on my throat.Faint, but undeniable. Shadows of his touch, pressed into my skin, proof of the power he holds. He really did put pressure—enough to leave a mark. My breath stills as I lift my hand, fingertips hovering just above the bruises. A silent reminder. A warning. Or maybe something else entirely.A knock on the door makes me freeze. I open my hair and let them fall on my shoulder, a desperate try to hide the marks.It can't be Leonardo. He never knocks.Then, it has to be the doctor or one of his men."Come in..." My voice is steady, but my pulse isn’t. I step away from the mirror as the door swings open.A man stands at the threshold, dressed in all black. Tall, broad-shouldered, unfamiliar."Boss told me to escort you to the car." His tone is low, impersonal. His
His Poisoned Rose   Part 64
His Pov:I storm out of her cabin, slamming the door behind me. My pulse hammers against my skull, my breaths coming in sharp, ragged bursts. My fingers flex and curl into a tight fist at my side, aching with the ghost of her throat still beneath them. It took everything in me to let go, to force my grip to loosen when all I wanted was to squeeze the truth out of her.She’s lying. I know she is. Even if the words coming from her lips hold some shred of truth, they aren’t the whole truth. And that eats at me like a slow-burning fire.My shoulders heave as I drag in a breath, trying to wrestle back control. But the fury doesn’t fade—it thrums in my veins, a caged beast pacing just beneath my skin. I saw the way she looked at Marco last night. Pure hatred. Loathing carved into every line of her face.Then why is she protecting him? Why does he matter so much to her?My jaw clenches, muscles flexing beneath the strain. My knuckles crack as my fist tightens. I want to destroy something. So
His Poisoned Rose   Part 63
Her Pov:“Who is Marco, Rosalina?”The 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 name—I 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 else—something 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 something—anything. 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
His 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 him—the man who held me captive in his arms last night. Or had I sought refuge there on my own? I couldn’t tell anymore.I shouldn’t have found solace in his embrace. I shouldn’t 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 does…I don’t know what he wants from me anymore. His actions, his words—they 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 didn’t soften the blow, didn’t offer co
His Poisoned Rose   Part 61
His Pov:She sleeps so soundly, as if yesterday never happened. As if she wasn’t 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 me— not as me, but as someone else. Marco.That name alone makes my jaw clench. The sheer hatred in her gaze, the raw fear—it 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.“Noah, tell the doctor I’ll be there in ten minutes.” My voice is sharp, commanding.“Yes, boss.” His response is immediate—exactly 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 don’t like it. I don’t understand it.I move
His 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 tears—but 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 hasn’t 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 he’s checking—ensuring the situation is under control.Rosalina stiffens at the sound, suddenly aware of herself, and I feel her attempt to pull away. But I don’t allow it. Not yet. I know she isn’t ready, not when her body still trembles against mine, not when I can still feel the uneven rhythm of her breathing.Without
His 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 this—whoever made her look at me like this—will 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. Horror—of that bastard—bleeds 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,
