All Chapters of His Sinful Desire: Chapter 91 - Chapter 95

ERICA The disposable camera hung loosely from my wrist as we walked out of the store, Raffael’s words still echoing in my head: “The real fun begins now.” I wasn’t sure what his idea of fun was, but so far, I had to admit he’d done a good job of keeping things lighthearted. The thought made me smile as we strolled down the street, his presence steady beside me. We’d spent the morning walking through the city, and though the camera was supposed to be for me to capture things that caught my attention, I noticed Raffael was snapping pictures, too—mostly of me when he thought I wasn’t looking. I called him out once, playfully swatting at his hand as he clicked another sneaky shot. “You’re supposed to be capturing the scenery, not stalking me with that thing.” “I am capturing the scenery,” he replied with a smirk. “You just happen to be the most interesting part of it.” I scoffed but couldn’t stop the heat from rising to my cheeks. I turned my attention to the bustling streets, takin

Erica’s POVThe venue was grand—too grand, honestly. It was the kind of place where everything screamed wealth, from the crystal chandeliers dripping light over the ballroom to the marble floors that clicked softly under expensive heels. A symphony of laughter, murmured conversations, and the clinking of glasses filled the air, mingling with the scent of perfume and champagne.It was elegant. Luxurious. Completely suffocating.I adjusted the thin strap of my dress and tried not to groan out loud as yet another person approached Raffael, shaking his hand and exchanging polite conversation. I had been standing next to him for what felt like forever, smiling at strangers, nodding at things I wasn’t even listening to, and pretending I wasn’t absolutely exhausted.I wasn’t sure how much longer I could do this.“Raffael,” I leaned in, keeping my voice low. “I need to sit down.”His grip on my waist tightened slightly. “Just a little longer, cara.”“No,” I pulled back slightly, looking up at

CLARISSAI gripped the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white as I drove home, my foot pressing harder against the pedal than necessary. The spa day was supposed to clear my head, but it didn’t. I had spent hours in that place—hot stones pressing against my back, steam curling around my skin, soft hands massaging every tense muscle in my body—but nothing worked.No amount of heat, pressure, or forced relaxation could erase the thoughts swirling in my mind.Chloe’s murder.The accident.The way we disposed of her body like she was nothing. Like she never existed. Like she was just a problem that needed to disappear.My hands clenched against the leather steering wheel, my nails biting into my palms. I should feel relieved that the body was gone, that there was no evidence left behind. But instead, I felt trapped, suffocated under the weight of what we did.And now Raffael—relentless, ruthless, determined to find the killer.The irony of it all made my stomach twist painfully