Novels by Eimi Doli

[LUCIANA’ POINT OF VIEW]The mall was brighter than I remembered. The smell of perfume and freshly baked bread from the food court lingered in the air as families and couples strolled around us, laughing and chatting. I held the shopping bag Lorenzo insisted I carry only for the baby clothes we picked earlier, though he had Gino hauling the rest. I shouldn't have been smiling. I really shouldn't. But as I glanced at the small onesies in the bag, soft pastel colors with tiny embroidered animals, warmth spread through me. "You like those?" Lorenzo's deep voice broke through my thoughts. I looked up at him, caught off guard by the way he studied me. Not with the usual coldness, but with something gentler. "Y-yes. They're... cute," I admitted, my cheeks heating. Faint smirk touched his lips. "Then we'll get more." Before I could protest, Gino let out a chuckle behind us. "Careful, Miss Bautista. If you don't stop him, he'll buy out the whole store." I laughed softly, biting my

[LORENZO’ POINT OF VIEW] The office felt different lately, though I'd never admit it out loud. I sat behind my desk, staring at numbers that used to matter but now blurred into nothing. My thoughts weren't on the reports—they were on her. Luci. I should've expected it. In fact, I did. Her pregnancy wasn't some surprise twist in my story—it was exactly what I had calculated. The perfect chain to bind her, the perfect way to make her dependent on me, to tighten the noose until she had nowhere else to run. I had wanted this. I had planned for it. So why the hell did it feel different now? Every time I saw her— hands resting on her stomach, her face softer than before, carrying the life we created—I felt something stir inside me. Something I can't name. For a split second, The cruelty I swore to use against her slipped away. For a split second, my plan slips away. But then I remember. Her father. The man who destroyed my family. The man who murdered my father. That's en

The hospital lights were too bright, almost harsh, reflecting off the white walls and making the room feel colder than it already was. I sat on the edge of the examination bed, hands clasped tightly in my lap, my heart pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears. I told myself to stay calm, but my body wouldn’t listen. My palms were sweaty, my chest tight, and the silence between each tick of the clock was unbearable. Across the room, Lorenzo stood near the tall window, hands tucked into his pockets, his sharp gaze fixed on the city outside. His posture was as straight and commanding as always, his presence filling every corner of the room even without a word. I wanted to look away, but my eyes kept drifting back to him, searching for some clue as to how he felt. Did he even care about the results we were waiting for? The door finally opened, and my stomach dropped. The nurse stepped inside, a small folder held carefully in her hands. Her expression was soft, almost g

[LUCIANA' POINT OF VIEW] The city lights spilled into the room, painting the walls in silver and gold. My body still ached from the night before, every step a reminder of what had happened — of what I had given him. I thought maybe tonight he'd let me rest. I was wrong. Lorenzo sat on the edge of the bed, his shirt unbuttoned. His dark eyes fixed on me like I was already stripped bare. "Come here," he ordered, his voice low, leaving no room for refusal. My chest tightened. I moved slowly, my legs trembling as I approached. "You're still sore," he murmured, his gaze sweeping over me. "Good." Heat rose in my cheeks. "Lorenzo... maybe we shouldn't—" He cut me off, his hand snapping around my wrist, pulling me closer. "You signed the contract, Luciana. This is what you agreed to. So tonight, you'll be on top." My breath caught. "On top?" His lips curved faintly, though his eyes stayed cold. "You'll ride me. I want to watch you take me inside you. Every inch."

[LORENZO’S POINT OF VIEW] The night had been long. Too long. Even in the quiet of my penthouse, the memory of Luciana beneath me refused to leave my mind. Her trembling body, her soft gasps, the tears she tried to hide as I claimed her. She was untouched, pure, yet she gave herself to me because of a contract. Because I demanded it. I leaned back in my leather chair, a slow, satisfied grin curling on my lips. Finally, the first move had been made. Everything was falling into place—just as I had planned. The thought of her, oblivious to the trap she was walking into, only fueled my satisfaction. Every step she took from now on was mine to control, and soon... she'd have nowhere to run. The sound of papers being stacked pulled me from my thoughts. Gino stood a few feet away, neat as always, but there was something in his eyes—a quiet hesitation he was trying to hide. "Prepare the first payment for Miss Bautista," I said finally, my tone flat. "Yes, sir." He adjusted his

The lights flickered back on, chasing away the darkness, but the heaviness in the air stayed. My breath came fast, shallow, and I could hear the thundering of my heart in my own ears. Lorenzo stood at the foot of the bed, his tall frame blocking the soft city glow spilling in through the floor-to-ceiling windows. His eyes pinned me in place, sharp and unreadable, like a predator ready to strike. “Still scared?” His voice was low, smooth, but dangerous enough to make my stomach twist. I swallowed hard. My lips trembled, but I managed a small nod. He smirked, slow and deliberate, like he owned me already. “Good. Fear keeps you obedient.” My chest tightened. I clutched the sheets so hard my knuckles turned white. This wasn’t how I imagined giving myself to someone. I had dreamed of love, of warmth, of someone who would hold me gently. Instead, here I was, about to give everything to a man who saw me as nothing more than a contract. But I thou