LOGINImran Khan’s life falls apart the day his father disappears, leaving him drowning in debt and hunted by dangerous men. With no way out, he makes a desperate choice, selling one night of his life to a stranger. But that stranger turns out to be Rafaelle Moretti, a powerful and dangerous man who doesn’t just want one night… he wants control. What starts as a deal quickly turns into something darker. Possession. Power. Desire. Imran wants freedom. Rafaelle doesn’t let go. “Say my name, Gattino.” His voice came out low, smooth, and controlled, the kind that didn’t need to be loud to make your body react. It wrapped around me, heavy and dangerous, as his body pressed mine deeper into the mattress. I could feel the weight of him, solid and unyielding, hovering just enough to remind me that I wasn’t going anywhere unless he allowed it. I swallowed, my throat dry, my chest rising and falling too fast. Even thinking his name felt like stepping into something I couldn’t come back from. His hand pinned my wrist above my head, not rough, not painful, just firm enough to remind me who was in control. The other slid slowly along my side, fingers dragging in a way that made my skin heat up against my will. Every touch was deliberate, like he was studying me, learning how I reacted without me saying a word. “Say it,” he murmured again, his face closer now, his breath warm against my lips.
View More༒ℑ𝔪𝔯𝔞𝔫༒ By the time I got to the hotel, the reality of what I was about to do had already settled in, and not in a good way. It sat heavy in my chest, like something I couldn’t shake no matter how many times I told myself this was necessary. I stood outside for a second longer than I should have, staring at the entrance, trying to convince myself to just walk in like it was normal, like I did this all the time. It wasn’t enough to clear my debts. That was the part that kept repeating in my head. The money he offered, it was a lot, more than I had ever had at once, but it still wasn’t enough to wipe everything clean. It was just a start. Just something to hold them off, maybe. Unlike my boss. The thought alone made me cringe, my face tightening as his expression flashed in my head, the way he looked at me, the way he spoke like I didn’t have a choice. My stomach turned slightly, and I shook my head, pushing it away. No. I wasn’t going back to that. I straightened up and wa
༒ ℑ𝔪𝔯𝔞𝔫༒ I didn’t even notice when my phone vibrated in my pocket. The club was too loud, too full, bodies moving everywhere, voices overlapping, music hitting so hard it felt like it was inside my chest. I had just gotten to work not long after those men left my apartment, and I still hadn’t fully calmed down. My head was all over the place, my nerves still tight, like I was expecting another knock even here. I kept scanning the crowd, trying to find Pierre, but it was pointless. One of the guys had already told me he was working the VIP section tonight, which meant I wouldn’t be seeing him anytime soon unless I had a reason to go up there, and I didn’t. Not yet. I moved around the bar, doing what I was supposed to do, taking orders, avoiding unnecessary conversations, trying to act normal even though nothing felt normal anymore. My phone vibrated in my pocket again, and this time I pulled it out, glancing down quickly between orders. A message from the site. My chest tigh
༒ ℜ𝔞𝔣𝔣𝔞𝔢𝔩𝔢༒ Family dinners like this were always the same, just dressed differently depending on who was sitting at the table. Expensive food, polished smiles, conversations layered with meaning that no one said out loud. I sat there, glass of wine in hand, barely touching it, already counting how long I had to endure before I could leave without it causing a problem. Across the table, the Garcinos were doing what they did best, talking business without actually calling it business, every word measured, every smile calculated. My grandfather looked pleased, which told me everything I needed to know about how this night was going. It was exactly what he wanted. My gaze shifted to the side when I felt eyes on me. Her. My fiancée. The moment I looked at her, she smiled like she had been waiting for it, soft and practiced, her fingers brushing through her hair in that shy, flirty way that was supposed to draw me in. I almost laughed. Instead, I just scoffed quietly and looked
༒ ℑ𝔪𝔯𝔞𝔫༒ “Say my name, Gattino.” His voice came out low, smooth, and controlled, the kind that didn’t need to be loud to make your body react. It wrapped around me, heavy and dangerous, as his body pressed mine deeper into the mattress. I could feel the weight of him, solid and unyielding, hovering just enough to remind me that I wasn’t going anywhere unless he allowed it. I swallowed, my throat dry, my chest rising and falling too fast. Even thinking his name felt like stepping into something I couldn’t come back from. His hand pinned my wrist above my head, not rough, not painful, just firm enough to remind me who was in control. The other slid slowly along my side, fingers dragging in a way that made my skin heat up against my will. Every touch was deliberate, like he was studying me, learning how I reacted without me saying a word. “Say it,” he murmured again, his face closer now, his breath warm against my lips. I turned my head slightly, trying to create space, but i












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