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Part 74
Last Updated:
2025-02-28 08:37:34
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His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā Part 75
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 werenāt there. My own mind betrayed me, playing tricks so cruel I lost touch with what was real and what wasnāt.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
Last Updated : 2025-02-28His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā Part 76
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 roomāa sharp, piercing noise. But I donāt hear it. Not really. Not over the deafening silence that rings in my ears, the blood roaring through my veins. I donāt 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 handsāthose delicate, manicured fingersāare 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 Iāve been punched in the chest, hard en
Last Updated : 2025-02-28His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā Part 77
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 doesnāt yield. Instead, he presses me back, pinning me against the cold railing with nothing but his presence. A gasp escapes meāa sharp intake of breath, equal parts defiance and submission. His
Last Updated : 2025-02-28His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā Part 78
His Pov: When the bell rang, I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders back, forcing the tension from my muscles. But it was still there. That feeling. That goddamn feeling I hadn't been able to shake since earlier tonight. Since her. She had cooked for me. And Iād fucking stood there, frozen, watching her shift nervously under my gaze, her fingers fidgeting, her cheeks flushed like she wasnāt sure if what sheād done was right. Like she was afraid Iād dismiss it. Dismiss her. That softness in her voice, the unspoken need in her eyesāit did something to me. Twisted something deep in my gut. No one had ever done that before. Not for me. People feared me. Respected me. Needed me. But no oneā¦ cared. No one gave without expecting something in return. No one saw me as a manājust a force, a means to an end. But she did. And it was fucking unsettling. Because I didnāt do softness. Didnāt do warmth. Those things made a man weak. Made him vulnerable. And yet, standing there, listening to
Last Updated : 2025-03-04His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā Part 79
His Pov:I lay her down on my bed, her body trembling beneath me, barely holding onto her senses after I fucked her. Hard. Deep. Like I needed to brand myself into her very being. Like I needed her to feel me long after I was gone. Her breath is uneven, her lips parted, swollen from my kisses, her skin still flushed with heat. And yet, the fire in her eyes hasn't dimmed. That defiant glare, that sharp tongueāGod, she gets under my skin in ways I canāt even put into words.I hadnāt planned to fuck her like that. Not there. Not then. But I couldnāt hold myself back. Not when she looked at me like that. Not when her voice dripped with accusations, with detest, with anger that cut deeper than I wanted to admit. Not when she threw those words at me, her voice laced with bitternessā" What did you think, huh? She's a slut anyway. Why would she mind being a mistress?"That hit me. Hard.Like a fucking gut punch I wasnāt prepared for. The way she degraded herself, reduced herself to something
Last Updated : 2025-03-05His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā Part 80
Her Pov:When I open my eyes, the golden light of morning is already spilling through the curtains, painting the room in soft hues. I blink, my body heavy, sore. My gaze drifts around the room, searching for him, but he's nowhere to be seen. The sheets beside me are cold.I shift, trying to sit up, but a sharp ache between my legs makes me freeze. A whimper escapes my lips. Last nightā¦ he didnāt hold back. Not even a little. He took me as if restraint was a foreign concept, as if I belonged to him in a way that denied the need for gentleness. And now, I can still feel himāhis presence lingering inside me, on me, all around me.I exhale shakily, dragging my body up against the headboard, each movement a reminder of his merciless touch. Thatās when I noticed the bedside table. A plate of buttered toast, a cup of coffee still warm, a glass of water, andā¦ painkillers.My throat tightens. He thought of this. He knew. A contradiction wrapped in flesh and boneāthatās what he is. One moment,
Last Updated : 2025-03-06His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā Part 81
His Pov:I made Rosalina breakfast before leaving early. My father was heading home today, and I needed to speak with him before he did. He had probably already heard everything from Eliza. Knowing her, it was likely all over the place by now.I arrived at his condo, where his men escorted me inside. I didnāt bring any of my people, except for my driver. This conversation wasnāt meant for witnesses.The room was dimly lit, the scent of burning tobacco thick in the air. He stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his back to me, exhaling a slow stream of smoke as he observed the city below. His presence alone was a quiet warningācontrolled, dangerous, absolute. At least we have something in common. "I heard you wanted to see me." His voice was deep, calmāunbothered. He didnāt turn to acknowledge me, and I didnāt care."Yes," I replied, my tone just as cold. "Thatās why Iām here."Our relationship was nothing like what a father and son should share. No warmth. No sentiment. Just business.
Last Updated : 2025-03-07His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā Part 82
Her POV:āPack your clothes, Rosalina.āHis voice is smooth, commandingāso effortlessly authoritative that it leaves no room for defiance. But beneath that polished control, thereās something else. An edge of impatience. A quiet demand that brooks no refusal.I freeze, my grip tightening around the phone. Leaving?āP-Pack my clothes?ā My voice comes out uncertain, barely above a whisper. My heart is already hammering against my ribs. āBut why? Where are we going?āA pause. Just long enough to make my breath hitch. And then, finallyāāParis.āThe word drops like a stone, heavy, and final.I forget to breathe. Forget that heās still on the line. I just stand there, the phone pressed to my ear, my mind struggling to process what he just said.Paris? Is he serious? Is this some kind of twisted joke?My stomach clenches as reality crashes into me like a tidal wave. He slept with me once, and now he thinks he owns me? Does he really believe that because last night, Iāll just follow him like
Last Updated : 2025-03-09
Latest chapter
His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā 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 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
His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā Part 105
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,
His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā 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 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
His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā Part 103
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
His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā 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 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
His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā Part 101
***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
His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā Part 100
**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,
His Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā Part 99
**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 Poisoned RoseĀ Ā Ā 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 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
