Author's pov"I'm so sorry," he whispered brokenly, brushing her damp hair from her face. His thumb gently grazed her cheek as he stared at her pale features, twisted in pain even in unconsciousness. "Please... come back to me, Petal. Please."Her breathing hitched.The grip of the nightmare began to loosen its hold, like morning light slowly banishing a dark fog. Her eyelashes fluttered. Her lids, heavy and red from silent weeping in her sleep, lifted just enough to reveal a pair of hazy eyes. Disoriented. Lost. Her gaze didn't recognize the room, or even him.But instinct overrode confusion.Like a flower leaning toward the sun, she lunged forward. Her arms, trembling, wrapped around Sebastian tightly. She buried her face in his chest, her sobs muffled by his shirt, her entire body wracked with silent tremors. Though her mind was clouded, her soul seemed to remember him. Her body sought the safety, the warmth, the familiarity of his embrace.And Sebastian?He froze.Then he wrapped
Author's POVAs soon as Petal saw Sebastian’s bleeding hand, she didn’t waste a second. Her instincts kicked in and she sprinted toward the bathroom, her bare feet padding softly against the cold floor. The moment she spotted the first aid kit tucked in the cabinet, she snatched it and returned with hurried steps, her breath catching as she knelt beside him. Despite everything—every scar he’d left on her heart—she began treating his wound with trembling hands, the smell of antiseptic stinging her nose.The silence between them was heavy, dense with unspoken pain. She didn’t dare look at him as she worked, but her voice broke through, soft and barely audible. “I don’t know why... I feel safe with you,” she said, more to herself than to him. “Even after all the dreams... even when I’m scared... this part of me knows I can trust you.”Sebastian’s jaw tightened. Guilt clung to him like a shadow. He didn’t deserve her trust. Not after what he’d done. He looked at her, a flicker of pain in
author's povHe took the glass of water from the nightstand and brought it to her trembling lips. His hand, though bandaged and slightly shaking, was steady enough to hold the glass for her. "Okay, now stop stuttering and drink," he said gently, his voice low but firm.She nodded quickly, instinctively trying to reach for the glass, but he didn’t let go. Her hands were still shivering, so he tilted the glass himself. She drank obediently, gulping down the water like a lifeline. Her throat was parched, dry from crying and screaming, and the cold water soothed the burn in her chest. Once finished, he placed the glass back on the nightstand and shifted slightly away, leaving a respectful distance between them."Don’t be scared of me," he said, settling onto the edge of the bed. "I won’t do anything to you."She gave a slight nod. But then, as if remembering something crucial, she quickly added in a soft, broken voice, "Okay."He looked at her with faint amusement. The way she scrambled t
author's povBefore she could stop herself, her lips moved."I don’t love you," she said flatly, almost as if she was speaking to herself. The words slipped out, raw and honest, slicing the tense air between them.For a brief moment, there was silence. Sebastian's dark eyes narrowed, not in rage, but in something far heavier — a brewing storm he was trying desperately to control.He let out a low breath through his nose, clenching his jaw.“Soon, baby, soon you will also love me. Don't ever say this again," he said, his voice carrying a sharp warning beneath its softness. There was irritation in his tone, but it was laced with restraint. He was trying—really trying—not to let his temper loose on her, not now.He turned his face slightly, as if trying to calm the boiling emotions within him."Just because you are going to marry me," he continued, voice firm, "doesn't mean you will stay like this forever—scared and traumatized."His words were rough but held a strange kind of concern, a
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, business, events and incidents are the products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.Author's Note: Expect Grammatical Errors English is not my first language. This is not an edited story yet.Plagiarism is a Crime. Punishable by Law.All Right Reserved @2022*******************************************************In this story ML is a bit aggressive and arrogant, when reading story you might hate him 😉Don't go complaining around this book, if you are not interested don't read, don't just write hateful comments. Enjoy readingCharacter introSEBASTIAN D'ANGELO (ML) AGE:- 32 yearsPERSONALITY:- Arrogant, Handsome, Billionaire, Obsessive, Possessive, jealous, In love with our FL.PETAL VIOTTO (FL)AGE:- 20 YearsPERSONALITY:- Sweet, innocent, beautiful, kind , trusts everyone easily, unaware of ML's love towards her.Prologue“Please don’t do this, I don’
Petal's POV The night was silent, save for the echo of my heartbeat pounding in my ears. How had I ended up here? The air in the room felt suffocating, the dim lighting casting ominous shadows on the walls. My face still burned from the sting of his slap, and my shoulder throbbed where his teeth had sunk into my flesh. My mind raced, desperate for answers, desperate for a way out. But the only thing that greeted me was the sinister smirk on Sebastian's face, a cruel reminder of the power he wielded. How did my life spiral into this? Everything had been fine—or so I thought. I had been preparing for graduation, dreaming of a quiet and independent life. My family was my world, and I had plans to make them proud. But Sebastian, with his overwhelming presence, had other plans. He had always been around—my family’s close friend, a charming yet enigmatic figure. I never paid much attention to him beyond the polite exchanges and casual meetings. I never realized he had been watching me, s
Petal’s POV "Petal, if you are up, get ready for college. It’s already late!" yelled my mom from the kitchen downstairs. Her voice jolted me awake, and I groggily glanced at the clock on my nightstand. It was already past 8 a.m., and my classes started at 9. Thankfully, my college was only a 15-minute walk from home. But that was irrelevant since Dad always insisted on dropping me off on his way to work. He’s a professor at the same university, which often feels like both a blessing and a curse. Stretching lazily, I swung my legs over the bed and trudged to the bathroom. As the cool water splashed over my face, I slowly started feeling more awake. My mom’s voice rang in my ears again, reminding me to hurry up. It wasn’t unusual for her to be the most organized person in the family, juggling everything at home while still keeping tabs on everyone else’s schedule. My family is the heart of my world. We’re five members: Mom, Dad, my elder brother, my younger brother, and me. My elder b
Sebastian’s POV The shrill sound of my alarm broke the silence of the early morning. I groaned, rubbing my face as I forced myself out of bed. It was another day, another battle to conquer in the corporate world. Pushing aside my lingering drowsiness, I headed to the bathroom, stepping into the shower. The cold water hit my skin, washing away the remnants of sleep and clearing my mind. Afterward, I put on my perfectly tailored Armani suit, a staple of my wardrobe that spoke of power and precision. As I adjusted my cufflinks, my butler knocked softly on the door before entering. “Sir, breakfast is ready,” he informed me with his usual calm demeanor. He was a man in his mid-50s, with a head full of grey hair and a posture that reflected years of dedicated service. I respected him immensely, knowing the effort and discipline it took to stay steadfast in one’s duties. Respect like that doesn’t come easy; it’s earned through hardship, something I know all too well. But the past is a door
author's povBefore she could stop herself, her lips moved."I don’t love you," she said flatly, almost as if she was speaking to herself. The words slipped out, raw and honest, slicing the tense air between them.For a brief moment, there was silence. Sebastian's dark eyes narrowed, not in rage, but in something far heavier — a brewing storm he was trying desperately to control.He let out a low breath through his nose, clenching his jaw.“Soon, baby, soon you will also love me. Don't ever say this again," he said, his voice carrying a sharp warning beneath its softness. There was irritation in his tone, but it was laced with restraint. He was trying—really trying—not to let his temper loose on her, not now.He turned his face slightly, as if trying to calm the boiling emotions within him."Just because you are going to marry me," he continued, voice firm, "doesn't mean you will stay like this forever—scared and traumatized."His words were rough but held a strange kind of concern, a
author's povHe took the glass of water from the nightstand and brought it to her trembling lips. His hand, though bandaged and slightly shaking, was steady enough to hold the glass for her. "Okay, now stop stuttering and drink," he said gently, his voice low but firm.She nodded quickly, instinctively trying to reach for the glass, but he didn’t let go. Her hands were still shivering, so he tilted the glass himself. She drank obediently, gulping down the water like a lifeline. Her throat was parched, dry from crying and screaming, and the cold water soothed the burn in her chest. Once finished, he placed the glass back on the nightstand and shifted slightly away, leaving a respectful distance between them."Don’t be scared of me," he said, settling onto the edge of the bed. "I won’t do anything to you."She gave a slight nod. But then, as if remembering something crucial, she quickly added in a soft, broken voice, "Okay."He looked at her with faint amusement. The way she scrambled t
Author's POVAs soon as Petal saw Sebastian’s bleeding hand, she didn’t waste a second. Her instincts kicked in and she sprinted toward the bathroom, her bare feet padding softly against the cold floor. The moment she spotted the first aid kit tucked in the cabinet, she snatched it and returned with hurried steps, her breath catching as she knelt beside him. Despite everything—every scar he’d left on her heart—she began treating his wound with trembling hands, the smell of antiseptic stinging her nose.The silence between them was heavy, dense with unspoken pain. She didn’t dare look at him as she worked, but her voice broke through, soft and barely audible. “I don’t know why... I feel safe with you,” she said, more to herself than to him. “Even after all the dreams... even when I’m scared... this part of me knows I can trust you.”Sebastian’s jaw tightened. Guilt clung to him like a shadow. He didn’t deserve her trust. Not after what he’d done. He looked at her, a flicker of pain in
Author's pov"I'm so sorry," he whispered brokenly, brushing her damp hair from her face. His thumb gently grazed her cheek as he stared at her pale features, twisted in pain even in unconsciousness. "Please... come back to me, Petal. Please."Her breathing hitched.The grip of the nightmare began to loosen its hold, like morning light slowly banishing a dark fog. Her eyelashes fluttered. Her lids, heavy and red from silent weeping in her sleep, lifted just enough to reveal a pair of hazy eyes. Disoriented. Lost. Her gaze didn't recognize the room, or even him.But instinct overrode confusion.Like a flower leaning toward the sun, she lunged forward. Her arms, trembling, wrapped around Sebastian tightly. She buried her face in his chest, her sobs muffled by his shirt, her entire body wracked with silent tremors. Though her mind was clouded, her soul seemed to remember him. Her body sought the safety, the warmth, the familiarity of his embrace.And Sebastian?He froze.Then he wrapped
Sebastian's povToday... I crossed every limit. I became what I hate. And I don’t even know how to undo it.The silence in the study was deafening. Shadows loomed in every corner, and the only sound that existed was the irregular rise and fall of his breathing, jagged and raw. Sebastian sat against the cold wall, his head tilted back as the pain pulsed through his bleeding knuckles. But it was nothing compared to the agony gnawing at his chest. The skin could heal. But the soul? The soul he had shattered—that was a different story.His hand throbbed where he had punched the wall in a rage, again and again, until his knuckles split open. Blood smeared the white paint, dripping down like the weight of his guilt. His shirt clung to his chest, soaked in sweat, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered anymore. Nothing except the girl he had pushed too far.Petal.He couldn’t even speak her name without feeling his throat tighten. His little flower. The only purity he had ever touched, and he h
Author’s POV The click of the lock echoed sharply in the silence of the study. He stood there, motionless for a second, then suddenly clenched his fists, stormed toward the wall, and smashed his knuckles into the hard surface. “FUCK YOU!” he shouted, the sound raw and broken, “You bastard! What have you done now?!” His fist slammed again, cracking the skin, blood trickling slowly from the fresh wounds. The sting of pain didn’t compare to the agony inside him. A tear slipped from his eye—not from the physical torment, but because he knew he had inflicted far worse pain on her. His little flower. His innocent, delicate Petal. He collapsed against the wall, sliding down until he hit the floor, his back pressed against the cold surface. He let out a bitter laugh that quickly morphed into a choked sob. His heart and mind screamed at him, battling violently within him, a storm that refused to calm. You almost raped her. You forced yourself onto her. You’re the monster she should’ve
Sebastian's POV"I will get you. I don't want any whores who want to be with me for my money," I said, smirking as my eyes locked onto her tear-filled ones. She was trembling, but not from the cold. From fear. From me."Please don't do this, I don't want to marry you," she whimpered, her voice cracking with desperation. Her pleas only fueled the fire raging inside me."You don't have a choice, my flower," I announced, voice sharp like a blade. She belonged to me. She always had. She just hadn't realized it yet."But you are..." she tried to argue, but her voice faltered.I tilted my head dangerously. "You are what? Complete the sentence, Petal," I said, my voice a low, lethal whisper.Silence. She just kept crying, her tiny fists clenching the fabric of her dress.My patience snapped like a brittle thread. "I said complete the fucking sentence!" I roared, slamming my fist against the headboard, making her flinch violently. Still, she said nothing.Fury overtook reason. I leaned forwar
Sebastian's POVI knew she would fight me. That’s what she always did—fight, scratch, run, scream. My Petal had fire in her. The kind of fire that makes men fall to their knees or burn alive. And yet, I stood there, fearless. Because I was the only one who knew how to hold that fire without getting scorched.“It’s OK if you don't want hot chocolate, let’s have a serious talk,” I said, my voice calm, but my grip on her wrist firm.The moment those words left my lips, her entire body turned tense. Her pupils widened, she began to squirm, struggling to get out of my hold. I knew her. I knew her next move before she even made it. As she lifted her knee, probably intending to hit me where the sun doesn’t shine, I caught her leg mid-air, stopping her before she even got close.I smirked.She should’ve known better.My body pressed against hers, pinning her down. Her heartbeat thundered against mine, wild and chaotic—just like her.“You’re sick,” she spat.“Maybe I am,” I whispered back with
Sebastian's POVI spanked her thirty times.Yes, thirty. Each strike had its purpose—not just for discipline, but to remind her where she belonged. My palm left a rosy imprint on her delicate skin, and with every slap, her resistance softened, only to rise again in the form of hot tears that trailed down her cheeks. She cried, her soft sobs echoing in the room, stabbing something deep inside me. But I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. She needed to understand.After the final one, I pulled her close and made her sit on my lap, wrapping my arms around her trembling frame. She looked up at me, defiance blazing in those teary eyes. And then, she started yelling.Unbelievable.Her voice cracked from emotion, and her small fists hit my chest, as if that would change a damn thing. I caught her hands mid-air and held them tight.“You’re no one’s but mine,” I growled, voice low and firm, each word laced with a promise she would come to understand—sooner or later.She froze. Her chest rose and fell rap