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Chapter 165
publish date:
2026-03-06 18:38:49
Latest chapter
HIS POISONOUS POSSESSION Chapter 203
[Veins of Silver]The smell of scorched ozone was still heavy in the air, but it was the scent of fear—sour and cold—that truly marked the beginning of our reign. As we stood on the broken balcony of the lower Spire, looking down at the desperate souls gathered in the courtyard, I felt a tremor of something that wasn't quite my own.~~~The first day of the "Obsidian" era didn't start with a coronation. It started with a judgment. Below us, fifty men and women—the survivors of the Regency’s elite staff and lower-tier billionaires—were huddled together in the ash. They weren't looking for a savior; they were looking for a god they could appease.Dante stood beside me, his presence a dark, suffocating weight
HIS POISONOUS POSSESSION Chapter 202
[The Silent King]Dante didn't just walk me into the darkness; he forced me to become a part of it. As the floor of the ruined elevator groaned and descended past the shattered foundations of the Spire, the smell of ash was replaced by something clinical—the scent of sterile air and expensive leather.~~~"The world thinks the Moretti legacy was built on the skyline," Dante whispered, his hand wrapped so tightly around my wrist that I could feel the frantic pulse in his palm. "They’re wrong. The true power is always hidden in the roots."The doors slid open, revealing the Obsidian Sanctuary. It was a subterranean palace, untouched by the blast that had leveled the Regency above. Deep, black marble floors reflected the soft, a
HIS POISONOUS POSSESSION Chapter 201
[Coronation of Ash]The silence was the most violent thing I had ever heard. It wasn't the peace of a finished war; it was the suffocating weight of a world that had forgotten how to breathe.I opened my eyes to a sky that was no longer blue or black, but a bruised, static-filled gray. The Spire, once the crown jewel of the Regency, was now a jagged skeleton of obsidian and broken glass, groaning under the weight of its own wreckage."Ivy."His voice was a low, jagged rasp that cut through the ringing in my ears. Before I could even draw a breath, I felt him. Dante didn’t just approach me; he reclaimed me. His hands, stained with soot and the dark smudge of dried blood, slammed against the remains of the marble pillar behind me, pinning m
HIS POISONOUS POSSESSION Chapter 200
[The Darkest Ever After]The detonation didn't sound like an explosion; it sounded like the indrawn breath of a dying god. When the thermal pulse hit the indigo core, the white light of the purge collapsed into a singularity of absolute, crushing black. The spire didn’t fall—it folded. For a timeless second, I felt the city’s nervous system snap, the millions of "Sync" connections severed in a single, violent stroke.And then, there was silence. A silence so heavy it had a weight.I opened my eyes—not as a ghost in a machine, but as a woman lying on a bed of cold, powdered glass. My heart gave a stuttering, agonizing kick against my ribs. I was back. The catalyst had been burned out by the blast, or perhaps the "Sync" had simply found no more power to hold me in the ether. I gasped, the a
HIS POISONOUS POSSESSION Chapter 199
[The Ghost in the Machine]I wasn't a girl anymore; I was a frequency. My physical heart had stopped, but my pulse was vibrating through every neon sign and security camera in the Regency. I could feel the city's cold, metallic breath, and through the millions of optical sensors, I saw him.Dante stood in the center of the collapsing spire, his silhouette a dark, jagged shadow against the blinding silver light. He looked like a man who had lost his soul and found a war. But standing opposite him was impossible—Arthur St. Claire, his face a reconstructed mask of porcelain and twitching silver wires, stepping through the fire as if it were summer rain."You didn't just drink the catalyst, Ivy," Arthur’s voice echoed through the "Sync," vibrating in the very air around Dante. "You became the cage. And I
HIS POISONOUS POSSESSION Chapter 198
[The Replacement Protocol]The barrier Julian had raised was more than a physical wall; it was a sensory deprivation chamber made of polarized light. I slammed my palms against the cold, vibrating glass, watching Dante’s silent roar of fury as the deck beneath him pulled away. But my attention was quickly ripped toward the center of the obsidian spire.The air didn't shimmer; it bled. A hatch in the floor hissed open, and a woman rose from the depths, draped in the same silver-threaded black as Julian. When she turned, my heart stopped. She didn't just look like me; she was the version of me that existed before the mountain. No scars. No "Sync" tremors. Her eyes were the soft, wide hazel I had lost in the cellar—a version of Ivy that was untainted, malleable, and utterly devoid of the darkness Dante had carved into my soul.
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