Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 11 - Chapitre 20

Chapter 11.Rosealba stood before the mirror, her reflection staring back with an intensity that mirrored the raging storm within her. Clutching her manuscript, her knuckles whitened, and beads of sweat formed on her forehead, unveiling her inner turmoil. She drew in a deep breath, attempting to summon the confidence that seemed to elude her. Straightening her posture, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her shoulder. “You can do this,” she whispered to her reflection, forcing a smile that failed to mask the uncertainty in her eyes. This was her moment, her opportunity to ascend the literary ladder. The thoughts of losing loomed over her, threatening to shatter her dreams of joining the esteemed Noble Writers firm. She could not afford rejection at the moment. This was her only hope. Her only dream. The sudden vibration of her phone jolted her from her reverie. Retrieving her phone from the pocket of her cream-colored coat—a garment that exuded an elegance that her face didn'

Chapter 13. Drystan exhaled. An almost invisible exhale. “You have been standing for long. Does your leg hurt?” His eyes narrowed down to her legs and she pressed them together. Drystan reached to her fresh feet but she took a step backward before he could grip her leg. For the fear that her confused body would react to something as tiny as the graze of his finger. Drystan stared up at her. “Doesn't it hurt?” Rosealba shook her head, slowly and he nodded getting up on his feet. He picked her nylon from the floor and walked over to the passenger seat.“I will drop you home,” he informed throwing the door open. A smile stretched at the corner of Rosealba’s lips and happiness followed. “Thank you.” She appreciated it and walked into the car, her face beaming with smiles. Drystan smiled at her very childish act. She was pure, almost too pure to be called his woman. But nobody complimented her like him. She was all his. The ride to her house was silent. Rosealba settled into the

“Why did you do that?” Lowel thundered, pacing the room like a caged animal. His eyes burned with fury.“Do what?” Stephanie asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she raised a brow, feigning ignorance. Lowel stopped abruptly, his fists clenched at his sides as he glared at her. He was trembling, trying to contain the anger coursing through him.“Why did you manipulate your way into the firm and have them screen Rosealba off?” Stephanie tilted her head, feigning thought. “Oh. That.” A scoff escaped her lips. She reached for the glass of wine on the table, sipping leisurely before placing it back. Crossing one leg over the other, she shrugged. “She deserves it.”Lowel’s jaw tightened. His glare deepened, sharp enough to cut through steel. “You had no right,” he growled.Stephanie’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “No right? What do you care?”“I care,” Lowel snapped, his voice rising. As much as he hated Rosealba for her innocence he saw her work for that position. “I care because

Chapter 17.Drystan walked into Rosealba’s store, his presence, like he was the freakking owner, his presence yielding and commanding. Of course, he was in charge—in charge of the owner of the store and the store itself. But there was something off. The warmth that the store exuded was missing. It was not covered in the usual feeling of peace and serenity, it felt cold and deprived of everything that made it peaceful, yet nothing was missing or absent from its position, aside from Rosealba of course. He took a step further, very cautious and of course scanning the entire room with his watchful eyes. Almost immediately. His eyes found his sunshine. On her white couch, she sat, her head bent. Her body didn't move, but her shoulders shook slightly, almost invisibly, but he could tell. Her fist tightened around her hair, squeezing and pulling on it the same way he desired to squeeze and fist on her hair when he would fit his cock into her beautiful and willing creamy self. The invisib

Drystan sat on the couch by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse, the sprawling city beneath him illuminated by the night. The faint hum of the city of Rome couldn’t penetrate the glass, leaving him in an eerie silence that mirrored his thoughts. His gaze was distant, fixed on nothing in particular, but his mind was on her—Rosealba. The woman that haunted his thoughts day and night. Rocco entered the room cautiously, his footsteps barely audible on the polished marble floor. He held a dossier in his hand, but he knew better than to speak first.Without turning, Drystan’s voice sliced through the silence. “My lord.” Rocco bowed.“This is the information you requested.”Drystan forward slightly picking up the glass of cup that contained a wine, from the table in front of him. He leaned back into his chair, still giving Rocco his back. His voice was a low growl that commanded obedience. “Tell me everything you’ve learned about Nobel Write.”Rocco cleared his throat and opened