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Part 66
Last Updated:
2025-02-22 23:13:17
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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
Last Updated : 2025-02-23His Poisoned Rose   Part 68
Her pov:After he left me, the silence in this house became unbearable. I wandered aimlessly from room to room, a prisoner in a space that once felt too vast but now seemed to suffocate me. The walls loomed, the shadows stretched long and cold, and I moved like a ghost trapped within them. His men brought food, but the sight of it made my stomach churn. The hunger clawed at me, yet I couldn't force myself to eat. Sleep? That was an illusion.I laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling, the mattress beneath me, feeling as rigid as stone. My body ached, my mind spiralled, but my eyes refused to close. Because the moment they did, I saw him.I still don’t understand what happened this afternoon. It replays in my mind over and over, taunting me with unanswered questions. The way he stilled, the way his muscles tensed over my body as if even my presence burned him. The way he pulled back so suddenly, his breath catching, his entire being recoiling as if I was something repulsive. His eyes
Last Updated : 2025-02-24His Poisoned Rose   Part 69
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
Last Updated : 2025-02-25His Poisoned Rose   Part 70
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
Last Updated : 2025-02-26His Poisoned Rose   Part 71
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
Last Updated : 2025-02-27His Poisoned Rose   Part 72
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
Last Updated : 2025-02-28His Poisoned Rose   Part 73
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,
Last Updated : 2025-02-28His Poisoned Rose   Part 74
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
Last Updated : 2025-02-28
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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 us—soft 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 soft—never 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. “Is that it?” I finally ask, my voice barely a whisper. The question lingers, hanging between us, almost absurd in its simplicity.“No,” he says softly, his voice barely louder than the river’s murmur. “There’s more to be freed than just the fish.”I 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 he’s seeing through every wall I’ve 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."They’re 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 him—Leonardo, sitting beside me in the backseat, his presence heavy, commanding. He hasn’t spoken much since we left, and I can’t 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 he’s 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 night—of him.Heat curls under my skin at the memory, but I push it away. He hasn’t looked at me the same way since this morning, and I hate how that unsettles me. Like I’m 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, he’s 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 wasn’t just trying to claim my body but my very soul. As if the mere act of having me wasn’t enough—he needed to carve his presence into my skin, into my bones, into the deepest recesses of my mind. And what’s 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 I’ve stared at it a thousand times. For a moment, I couldn’t even remember where I was—only 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 don’t know how long I’ve been here. Hours? Days? I can’t tell. Sleep doesn’t 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 body—my entire being—felt like it wasn’t 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:It’s 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 too—tight and rough around my skull—covering 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 don’t even know how I survived.If David hadn’t done something… if he hadn’t begged or screamed for help… I would’ve bled out right there at the bottom of those stairs, and no one would’ve noticed until I started to rot.From the bits and pieces he’s 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 don’t 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. He’d been with us the whole time, sitting close, occasionally throwing in jokes or grabbing the controller for his turn. It felt like family — 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 didn’t exist.Until it did.Until everything shattered in a single heartbeat.A sharp sound cracked through the air — 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 left—the only thing she couldn’t destroy. My fingers trace the torn edges carefully, like they’re made of glass, like they’ll fall apart if I hold them too tight. The paper is stained, corners smudged, some pages singed at the ends. But it’s 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 it’s bleeding.Why does she always do this to me?Why does she always hate the things I love?I don’t understand her. I’ve never understood her. No matter how much I try. I’ve always liked quiet things—books, 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 don’t smoke—not usually. I’ve never needed vices to dull my mind, never sought escape in addiction or meaningless habits. I’ve always been above such weaknesses.And yet, here I am.Because of her.She’s 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 can’t erase her from my mind. No matter how much I try, she lingers—her 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 me—so impossibly tight, so warm, so fucking
