All Chapters of His Sinful Desire: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

ERICA I sat cross-legged on the bed, my gaze fixed on the window, but my mind wasn’t really on the view outside. Instead, it drifted back to earlier in the day—to the moment I’d walked into the kitchen and found Raffael cooking. Raffael. Cooking. If someone had told me a week ago that I’d see a man like him—arrogant, domineering, always dressed in a sharp suit—standing in front of a stove with an apron, I would’ve laughed. But there he was, like some odd version of himself I wasn’t sure how to process. What was that about? Why did he even bother? The idea of him going through the effort to make food for me felt completely out of character. He could just bark orders at someone else and make it happen. And yet he’d been standing there, focused, actually cooking. I couldn’t make sense of it. This was the same man who’d thrown Jordan to the ground without a second thought. The same man who treated people like pawns on a chessboard. Why would someone like that waste his time making

ERICA The morning light crept into the room, streaking through the thin curtains and casting pale patterns on the floor. I stretched in bed, the ache in my body slowly ebbing away. My strength had started returning these past few days, but it was still a far cry from normal. Small steps, I reminded myself, as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and let my bare feet rest on the cool floor. I glanced around the room. It was neat, too neat—everything in its place except for me. The isolation of being stuck here was starting to drive me mad, but it wasn’t just that. It was the strange shift in Raffael. Ever since I got sick, he had been… different. I stood slowly, testing my balance before heading to the closet to grab a fresh set of clothes. My hands skimmed over the fabric, and as I picked out something simple, my mind drifted back to the man downstairs. Raffael. The crime boss. My captor. My tormentor. Or at least, he had been all those things before. Lately, I wasn’t so

ERICA DAYS LATER This past few days had been… strange. Raffael had been unusually busy, barely around the house. It was almost like he’d disappeared into thin air. I couldn’t help but notice how he seemed to come home later and later every night. Not that I could complain—he’d practically ordered me to stay away from the club. His exact words were, “You’re not setting foot there for a while.” I didn’t know why, and I wasn’t about to press him for answers. A part of me was relieved, though. It meant I was temporarily free from being his personal maid or errand girl at the club. For once, I could just… exist. My days had settled into a quiet, repetitive rhythm: cleaning the house, reading whatever I could find in the mansion’s massive library, and taking long walks in the gardens. The nights, however, were different. Lonely. The mansion felt hollow without him here. Not that I’d admit it to myself, but his absence left an emptiness I didn’t know how to fill. I’d sit at the din

ERICA I sat on the couch, a book open in my lap, my eyes glued to the same paragraph I’d read three times already. It was supposed to be an escape, something to keep my mind occupied, but tonight, it wasn’t working. My thoughts kept drifting, pulling me away from the plot and back to the darker corners of my mind. The book was one of those suspenseful thrillers, full of secrets and betrayals, the kind of story that would normally have me hooked. But every twist on the page only reminded me of the real-life twists that had unfolded recently. Every deceit, every bit of violence written so neatly in these chapters felt uncomfortably close to home. I couldn’t stop thinking about Chloe. She was gone, really gone. The realization still hit me like a cold slap every time it resurfaced. No matter how hard I tried to move past it, her face would flash in my mind—her smirks, her sneers, the way she’d always made me feel so small and out of place. Chloe and I had never been friends, not even

ERICA The soft glow of morning light filtered through the curtains, pulling me from my sleep. I stretched lazily, the ache of yesterday’s travel still lingering in my bones. For a moment, I lay there in silence, taking in the comfort of the plush bed beneath me. I hadn’t even realized how exhausted I was when we arrived yesterday. The moment we stepped into Raffael’s penthouse, sleep had taken over, leaving me with no energy to explore my surroundings. Sitting up, I finally took the time to look around the room. It was breathtaking—spacious yet intimate, with large windows that let in an abundance of natural light. The walls were a soft cream color, accented with abstract artwork that looked like it cost more than I could ever imagine. The furniture was sleek and modern, with a cozy touch that made the room feel warm despite its size. A large chandelier hung above, its crystals catching the morning light and scattering tiny rainbows across the walls. It felt like stepping into a dif