Her Pov: I open my eyes after how long I don't know. It feels like I am living in a haze. I don't know when I am awake or when I am sleeping. It's always like being in the middle of a dream and a reality. As I open my eyes, I try to get up, but I don't have any strength to even move. After attempting a number of times, I finally get up from my sleeping posture and sit up using the wall as my support. I sit up and look around the small dark room. It's so dark that only a dim light is there. My eyes move to the door of the room. It's the only way of getting in or out. Without the door, there's nothing in the room. Just a mattress on the floor, and that's it. There's no window in the room, so I can't tell if it's day or night. It's not that I care, though. My gaze shifts to the abandoned plate of food in front of the door, and I try to get up. My body hurts with every move as I struggle to stand on my feet. Leaning on the wall taking support, I finally stand up and try to walk towar
His Pov:I sigh as the car parks in front of the venue. I usually hate this type of event, and I never attended them in the past. But this time, it needs to be done, and I need to attend the event. If it wasn't serious father wouldn't have send me here. Being the son of the leader of the Italian Mafia has given me a lot of things along with the responsibilities. Therefore, even if I personally hate it I didn't argue with father on the topic as I also know, we need to seal the deal with the Russians.Ethan Volcov, is a higher up in the Russian Mafia who reportedly is going to attend the event.My work is to attract his attention and have an introduction with him for a better chance of sealing the deal. I take a deep breath as I come out of the car and walk into the so-called venue.This is another stupid event of selling prostitutes to the elites of the society. To be precise to the scums of the society. But it can't be denied that this is the event you can find most of the influentia
Her Pov:I don't know what drug they put me on but I can still feel things around me see things even though they are blurry and can hear things even though they feel like they are coming from another world but yeah. I can walk as well, but I don't have much of my balance.Previously, whenever they injected me something, I lost my total sense and couldn't remember or feel anything. I would be like dead at the time.But this time it feels lighter than the previous ones. This time, I can tell things. I don't know if it's a good thing, though.They got me ready and blindfold me before taking me to somewhere.I don't know where they took me, but I could hear people talking and even naming prices.It took me a long while to understand that they were naming prices for me. But I couldn't react as the drug was slowly taking me over. A woman behind me was holding me as I was loosing my senses to even move a muscle of my body.The last thing I heard is " Sold". Before I lost in the darkness. Wh
His Pov: I chain up my pants as she gets up and goes to the washroom. Honestly, I don't know why the hell I did that.I usually don't lose control and never do anything without giving it several thoughts. I never in my life bought any prostitute or forced myself on anyone. Women always went crazy over me and could do anything to get just a glance from me. I have just had one night stands and never slept with a woman twice in my life. I had sex just for some fun and ended it just in there. For the first time, I bought someone with money, and honestly, even I don't know what I planned to do with her. But I definitely didn't plan to sleep with her or even touch her. But when she continuously started to beg me to let her go and give her passport back to her, something shifted in my mind.If she didn't beg, I could even consider this, but her seemingly not wanting me even after being used by several people got me on my edge. I didn't like that she didn't want me. But what got me off w
Her Pov: It has been around ten days since I have been here. Most of the time he doesn't stay at the house and I love it as I don't like to have him around me. He intimidates me too much and makes me really nervous for some reason. Whenever he's in the house I often catch his eyes on me and he doesn't even move them away as if he couldn't care less. It feels like he isn't watching me but more like studying me. He hasn't touched me again since the first day and sleeps in the separate room as well. I think he started to grow bored of me and I am also trying to behave according to him so that I can get rid of this soon and leave for the US as they handed him my passport. Well I tried to find ways to run away when he was not at home. But he locked the door from the outside and there's no other way to get out. The apartment is I guess on the 17th or 18th floor as it's very high I can't climb down or anything. Anyway what would I do running away as I don't have my passport with m
Her Pov:And he stands up as he takes the last drag of his cigarette and crashes it under his shoe. His hazal eyes are way too calm, as if he knows what effect he's having on me. He takes a step towards me, and I take a step back on instinct. He raises a brow at that. He takes another two steps, and I try to run towards the door. I don't know what's on his mind, but I can tell whatever it is, it won't be beneficial for me. He scares me, especially after that night. I don't want to be used again. I don't want to be used anymore by anyone. But before I could tell within a second, he's on me slamming me against the door hard while pinning my both hands above my hand with only his one hand.I struggle to free myself as I can feel him against me. " Don't move, Rosalina." His voice breathy and so deep.He takes a moment as if calming himself down before using a finger of his other hand on my chin to make me look up at him. He makes me look at him using his firm hold on my jaw as he look
Her Pov:" You are not going anywhere, Rosalina."" What do you mean?" I furrow my brows as I look at him for my answer." It simply means that you are staying here. What part do you not understand?" His eyes on his phone as he answers." But it's already late and.."" And what Rosalina?" His eyes rise from his phone as it strikes upon me." And I need to sleep..." As I am freaking tired from all the journey and his psychotic behaviour. " Well, I am not stopping you from sleeping. You can sleep if you want to." " And where will you sleep then?"" This is my room, Rosalina. Where do you think I will sleep?" His voice laced with humour. Wow! He's indeed having fun." I am not sleeping here!" I let him know being determined. No way in hell I would sleep with him in the same room. How did he even think that I would sleep here! " Oh, but you are Rosalina. You are sleeping here!" His eyes on me as he lets me know his decision. " But why in here?? This is a whole freaking mansion ! Why
Her Pov:The whole day passed by doing nothing. I am so hell bored, but there's literally nothing I can do about that. I tried to watch the TV, but I was never a telephile, so I gave up after a while.Back in the US, I didn't even have time to get bored. Classes, studies, part-time jobs, and Antonio ...My chest tightens from the memories as I try to push them on the back of my head.How strange it is, isn't it? The memories you once used to live for can turn into the reason that kills you from within with every passing second! Even when I try my best to not think I can't help myself. Sometimes, I wonder if I would still choose Antonio once again if I knew the events would turn out like this?Tears threaten to gather in my eyes as I try to shake that thought off my head. No... I won't think ... I don't want to think anymore...But boredom is getting the best of me. I tried to talk with the maids, but they were so busy with their work that they showed no interest in talking with me.
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 doesn’t yield. Instead, he presses me back, pinning me against the cold railing with nothing but his presence. A gasp escapes me—a sharp intake of breath, equal parts defiance and submission. His
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 room—a sharp, piercing noise. But I don’t hear it. Not really. Not over the deafening silence that rings in my ears, the blood roaring through my veins. I don’t 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 hands—those delicate, manicured fingers—are 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 I’ve been punched in the chest, hard en
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 weren’t there. My own mind betrayed me, playing tricks so cruel I lost touch with what was real and what wasn’t.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
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
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,
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
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
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
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