All Chapters of His Deadly Obession. : Chapter 121 - Chapter 130

Chapter 121 Rosealba glared at the screen of her phone, brows knitted in confusion as the unknown number displayed big and bright. For all she knew, she had a routine of people who called her. If Lina wasn’t calling, then it was her mother. But today, someone else was calling. Her fingers curled around the phone. A cringing feeling twisted in her stomach, and worry settled in. Could it be Lowel? Her breath hitched in her throat. The thought unsettled her. He didn’t have a reason to call her. She dropped the phone on the side table, looking into space. As soon as the call ended, the phone began to vibrate again. Rosealba picked up the phone, glaring at the screen—heart pounding like a ticking time bomb ready to explode. It could be someone entirely different, a voice in her head echoed. Someone from the writer’s firm. That was all it took for her hand to glide against the screen. She placed the phone to her ear, heart beating against her chest as she anticipated the voice f

Chapter 123.Drystan’s fingers twitched. Anger hummed beneath his skin, scorching every layer like wildfire.His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, trying to suppress the acrid taste of rage against his tongue.Silence stretched between them, hanging by a fragile thread of self-restraint. Fury burned through the deepest parts of him, but he couldn’t afford to unleash it. Not here. Not in front of her.Yet inside, he was raging. The fury howled like a beast clawing at the walls of his restraint. He wanted nothing more than to disappear to Rome, to hunt down every last incompetent fool he had entrusted with her safety. What the fuck had they been doing while her store was being attacked? Why hadn’t he been informed?His grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles paling with the force.Then his gaze lowered—only to meet hers.Rosealba was already staring up at him, her big, beautiful doe eyes demanding answers. She had heard her name, heard her store being mentioned, but the rest of the

Chapter 125. Drystan walked into the cold damp dungeon. The air wreaked of power and deceased body. The body he had made sure they faced their doom after betrayal. The air was thick with the stench of sweat, blood, and piss. The dungeon was cold, the stone walls stained with the ghosts of past lessons.The overhead bulb flickered, casting erratic shadows across the stone floor, where dark stains told a thousand gruesome stories.Drystan stepped forward, boots echoing against the concrete floor The dungeon was silent. Too silent and the incompetent men knelt on the cold stone floor, wrists bound behind them, heads bowed. The air was thick—heavy with the scent of old blood, damp walls, and something worse. Fear. It clung to them, seeped into their skin, settled in their bones.Their bodies trembled. Not from the cold of the dungeon but from the weight of the presence standing before them. Alactor Merikh Drystan. A man who didn't know mercy. A man who never allowed things to slide.

Chapter 127. The gentle evening breeze curled around Rosealba’s skin the moment she stepped outside, its crisp touch carrying the faint scent of rain and roses.Slowly, Drystan’s hands moved away from her eyes.Rosealba blinked, her lashes fluttering as she adjusted to the dim golden glow of the driveway. The air around her seemed to be still, thick with something unspoken, something that coiled around her chest and stole her breath.And then she saw it.The car.Sleek, dark, and devastatingly perfect.The Bugatti La Voiture Noire stood like a beast waiting to be tamed, its midnight-black body gleaming under the soft wash of the golden moonset. Its curves were pure temptation, an art piece sculpted by the gods of speed and power.But that wasn’t what made her breath hitch.It was the roses.A sea of crimson roses spilled from the open doors onto the pristine leather seats. Hundreds—maybe thousands—of delicate petals, each one whispering of something deeper. Something unspoken.Roseal

Chapter 129. Rosealba’s delicate fingers moved against his belt, her touch featherlight yet deliberate. Drystan leaned back against the pillow, his body tense with anticipation as she unbuckled the leather strap and pulled it away with a slow, teasing motion.Their eyes remained locked, a silent challenge passing between them. With measured grace, she slid his pants from his waist, and he instinctively lifted his hips, granting her full access to remove them along with his briefs.His semi-hard member sprang free, thick and proud, and Rosealba’s eyes gleamed with delight—like it was the first time she was seeing him.Three days.Three days without him. Three days without the aching stretch of him inside her. Three days without the connection made her body feel utterly complete.Still holding his gaze, she moved her slender fingers to his waiting cock, wrapping them around him, her grip warm and possessive.Drystan’s muscles tensed at her touch. Slowly, deliberately, she began to stro