Nobela ni Night angel

She stirred awake at the sound of a knock on the door. Sleep had barely touched her since she returned to her room last night. Fear kept her alert, dreading that Stefano might return to hurt her again. She had cried herself to sleep. Every muscle in her body screamed in pain, and the flesh between her thighs ached like it had been scraped raw. Her mind replayed everything she had once hoped for in their union—how it had all shattered. Anger tightened her chest. Anger at herself for not taking the out he had offered at the altar. And betrayal. Her parents had painted him in a good light. But Stefano was a monster. A cruel manipulator who fed her dreams, only to rip them apart. Suddenly, the door creaked open. She flinched and yanked the sheet tighter around her body, every hair on her neck rising in anticipation of him. But it wasn’t Stefano. An elderly woman in a maid’s uniform entered the room. "I’ve been knocking for a while," the woman said gently. "Mr. Bellucci requires your

Suddenly he withdrew his hand, and she heard the foil of the condom tear. His hand on her back pushed her lower until her cheeks were pressed against the sheets. She felt something nudge her opening and her body got tense. Stefano palmed her hip and parts her legs with one of his knees, and then he’s rubbing the head of his cock at her entrance. She sucked in a sharp breath when he drags it all the way over her folds and against her clit before going back again. He does it a few times. Up and down and then a rub. Her head swam in a dizzy mixture of sensations, unable to take the torture anymore. Without a warning, he took her virginity in one sudden, rough move and She screamed from the pain of the intrusion. A shockwave ran through her body and her back arched from the sharp ache that tore up her insides. He stilled for a moment and she froze. For a while, they just remained like that, neither of them doing anything. The only sounds in the room was if their breathing and Elisa

Elisa started taking off her nightgown. She let the gown pool at her feet. She stood in front of him in just her underwear. Shame washed over her, and she didn’t dare look at him. Instead, she fixed her eyes on the floor and stared at her gown. She felt so stupid for imagining that she could start a life with Stefano. Whatever fantasies she had built in her mind about this night, about closeness, about maybe even affection, had vanished. She should have known — devils always wore the prettiest faces. He didn’t say a word at first, just leaned back in his chair and looked at her. She could feel his stare like a burn. “That had to be the most unimpressive strip I’ve ever seen. A little tease wouldn’t hurt,” he said mockingly, swirling the liquor in his glass. “I heard you were a hot little thing. Don’t you think I’d appreciate seeing how good you are at seducing men? Dance a little, princess.” Elisa just stood there. It was already mortifying to stand nearly naked before him — and

Elisa was confused by the sudden shift in his mood. Just minutes ago, they were sipping wine and making light conversation—tense, but civil. Now, his eyes were hard and his voice sharp. She couldn't pinpoint what had gone wrong. Was it something she said? Maybe bringing up his brother? “Elisa,” he said in a low, warning-filled voice that made the hairs on her arms rise. Her hands trembled as she reached for the whiskey bottle and poured it into the glass. The liquid sloshed slightly, betraying her unsteady fingers. “Drink,” he said, voice flat and emotionless. She stared at the glass, her throat tightening. She didn’t want to disobey him, but everything inside her screamed not to drink it. “I said drink!” His voice cracked like a whip through the room, making her flinch hard in her seat. Tears threatened to gather in her eyes as she slowly brought the glass to her lips. Her hands shook so badly, some of the liquid dribbled over her fingers. The first sip burned her throat

Elisa stiffened at his words. Slowly, she turned to face him, still clutching the fabric of her gown to her chest. Because of their close proximity, she had to tilt her head up to meet his eyes. His face was as unreadable as ever, but his gaze—dark, heated—was clouded unmistakably with lust.Despite what he had said earlier, he made no move to step away.Elisa considered asking if he was sure he wanted her to leave, but the thought felt desperate. She couldn’t risk the humiliation of him turning her down. So, swallowing the knot in her throat, she turned quietly toward the door and started walking.She was almost there when his voice rang out again, firmer this time.“On the other hand, I think you should stay for a while,” he said. “We haven’t celebrated our wedding yet.”She turned slightly. “My dress—”“You can freshen up and then come back,” he cut in. “I’ll get a bottle.”“But you—”“I can’t sleep now,” he said, voice flat. “I thought a little company might help.”Elisa simply no

Elisa jolted awake at the light tap on her arm. Her eyes fluttered open to find Stefano's face looming close. “We’re here,” he said simply before stepping out of the limo. Still groggy, she scrambled to follow him. The sight before her pulled the breath from her lungs. The house was striking—modern elegance wrapped in classic white stone, its vast frame gleaming under the moonlight. Stefano was already halfway up the stairs. She tightened her grip on her gown and hurried after him, her heels clicking softly against the marble steps. Inside, the air was cool and still. The hallway was vast and tastefully adorned—gold sconces on cream walls, polished floors, oil paintings that likely cost more than her entire wardrobe. It felt less like a home and more like a curated museum of wealth. He stopped in front of a double door and opened it without a word. Then, turning to her with that same impassive expression, he stepped aside. “This is your room.” She blinked. “My room? W