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Chapter 252

Author: QuillWhisper
last update publish date: 2026-05-03 21:26:44

[A Lesson in Pain]

Ang bawat segundo ng katahimikan sa pagitan namin ay tila isang kutsilyong dahan-dahang humahati sa aking pagkatao. Seeing the empty, clinical void in his hazel eyes was a torture far worse than any Sovereign branding iron. He didn't know me, but I would make him remember—not through kindness, but through the very pain he once taught me to crave.

Nasa loob pa rin kami ng anino ng "Iron Cradle," ang paligid ay puno ng amoy ng kemikal at ang mahinang ugong ng mga makina. Dante
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  • HIS POISONOUS POSSESSION   Chapter 256

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  • HIS POISONOUS POSSESSION   Chapter 252

    [A Lesson in Pain]Ang bawat segundo ng katahimikan sa pagitan namin ay tila isang kutsilyong dahan-dahang humahati sa aking pagkatao. Seeing the empty, clinical void in his hazel eyes was a torture far worse than any Sovereign branding iron. He didn't know me, but I would make him remember—not through kindness, but through the very pain he once taught me to crave.Nasa loob pa rin kami ng anino ng "Iron Cradle," ang paligid ay puno ng amoy ng kemikal at ang mahinang ugong ng mga makina. Dante sat on the floor, leaning against a cold metal crate, watching me with the wary, detached gaze of a caged animal. He was a hollow vessel, his memories of "The Descent" and our forbidden war erased by the re-education process."Sino ka?" he repeated, his voice devoid of the possessive growl that used to anchor my soul.I didn't answer with words. Instead, I stood over him, my shadow looming large. I was the predator now, the one holding the keys to his cage. The Replacement Protocol hummed in my

  • HIS POISONOUS POSSESSION   Chapter 105 Continuation

    The emotional fracture was complete. Ivy realized that Dante hadn't been her only jailer. Arthur had been her architect since the day she was born. Her entire life—her memories, her personality, her "resistance"—was a curated path designed to lead her t

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  • HIS POISONOUS POSSESSION   Chapter 104

    [The Architect's Mirror]The farmhouse didn’t just smell of Dante; it breathed him. The scent was a violent intrusion, a phantom limb that Ivy could feel even through the chemical haze of the

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    [The Sang Noir Pact]The intake wing of Le Sang Noir was a masterpiece of clinical isolation. It didn't smell like a prison; it smelled like bleach, ozone, and the silent, vibrating hum of high-voltage security. Dante Moretti did not walk to

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