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The Deal
Last Updated:
2025-07-18 14:08:08
Latest chapter
His Darkest Temptation Burned Bridge
The retreat was restless that night. Storm clouds loomed over Cornwall, pressing down on the old estate like a curse. High above it all, past the wards and shuttered windows, past the clinical wings, stood the observatory—hidden, silent, and sacred.Isabella climbed the stairs after midnight. Her body ached, her chest still tight from the trial. The steps creaked under her weight, and the cold brass railing grounded her with every breath. She found the unmarked door. Only a Blackwood or a lover knew it existed.Inside, the observatory felt like a memory sealed in glass. A domed ceiling opened to the bruised sky. Telescopes lined the edges. Books were stacked like offerings. Rain splattered against the curved panes, blurring the storm outside.Adrian stood near the far window, pacing. His shirt was open at the collar, tie discarded. His face caught the lamplight like a carved statue—beautiful, tormented.“I didn’t expect you,” he said, his voice raw.“I know.” She shut the door gently.
His Darkest Temptation Mirror Games
The behavioral conditioning wing pulsed with a cold, clinical silence. Beneath the Society’s polished surface, it was a place meant to disarm. The walls were soundproofed. The floors are sterile. And Isabella walked them with her mask—Verity Lane—securely in place, though she could feel it cracking.She hadn’t slept. Not after Merrow’s accusations or Adrian’s guilt. She’d planned to lie low until the ritual. But the board had decided otherwise.That morning, the summons arrived—sterile, final. “Dr. Lane is to undergo a trust-building exercise. Attendance mandatory. Streamed for board review. All personal devices will be surrendered.”She had expected something eventually. But not this soon. Not this public. The board would watch. Allies. Enemies. Waiting to see which way she broke. It was a test, and a trap. If she faltered, she was done. If she played it too well, they’d know.The chamber looked built to unravel someone. Mirrors lined the walls—some angled to reflect her from every
His Darkest Temptation Betrayal Within
arterly Renewal arrived with a quiet tension. Everything at the Society’s retreat gleamed—floors polished, staff moving with rehearsed grace—but beneath the surface, the air was tight with something unspoken. Only a handful truly understood the stakes.Isabella, cloaked in the identity of Verity Lane, had become a name the board whispered with equal parts admiration and unease. Her posture flawless, her reports precise, her presence surgical. Most saw a rising consultant. A few looked harder—and looked too long.Adrian found her in a shadowed alcove just before the leadership meeting. The windows framed pristine lawns, manicured to illusion. His fingers brushed hers in a quiet warning.“When the ritual starts,” he said low, “I’ll give the signal. Trust no one.”She searched his face. “Not even you?”He almost smiled. “I’ll be the distraction. If things go wrong—”“Don’t,” she cut in. “We finish this together.”A knock broke the moment. They stepped apart, masks sliding into place.Ins
His Darkest Temptation The Switch Reversed
Morning crept in uncertainly, as if it didn’t belong. Light spilled through the high windows of Adrian’s estate, tracing faint lines across Isabella’s bare shoulders. She stood quietly, dressing without a word, the silence between them heavier than anything they had said. Their bodies had spoken in desperation last night, each kiss a confession, each touch a fragile truce. But daylight didn’t care about longing. It asked for clarity.Adrian didn’t speak as he led her through the estate. They passed solemn-faced staff, all too careful not to meet her eyes. Down the corridors. Past rooms soaked in memory. The floor grew colder, stone giving way to tile, polished and sterile. As they descended, the illusion of comfort peeled away. There was nothing soft about the level below.He moved with purpose—keycard, code, fingerprint, retinal scan. Each lock broke with a hiss, each step taking her deeper into the truth. When the final door opened, Isabella realized she’d been holding her breath.T
His Darkest Temptation Cracks in the Mask
The sky above the estate was thick with the weight of stars when Isabella returned. The night air was still, almost suffocating, and within the house, there was a silence that felt more like exhaustion than peace. It wasn’t the quiet of safety—it was the quiet of secrets weighing down on everything. The oak and wine-scented air seemed to hum with the things she carried with her: her mother’s tapes, Patient Zero’s file, the identity she wore like a second skin, so hot against her chest it almost burned.She moved through the house with purpose, her shoes soundless on the stone floor. She was supposed to be Verity Lane—cold, detached, the Society’s consultant, the newest player on their twisted board. But tonight, as shadows stretched through Adrian’s childhood home, she allowed herself to breathe as Isabella Hart again. She was still her mother’s daughter. She still held hope in her hands, even as heartbreak lingered at the edges of everything.Adrian was waiting for her in the wine ce
His Darkest Temptation Data Mining
Night descended quietly on the Society’s retreat, its elegant halls and manicured gardens now shrouded in an oppressive silence. The kind of darkness that pressed against the windows, turning everything into shadows, hiding every corner, every secret. Isabella moved through it like a ghost herself, unseen and unremembered. Each step was deliberate, every movement a practiced motion. The walls seemed to close in around her as if the very air knew what she was about to do.Her cover as “Verity Lane” had earned her privileges, but not invisibility. The archives, particularly the remote storage wing, were restricted. Only a few staff members had the clearance. Only someone desperate enough, driven by a truth too heavy to bear, would risk what Isabella was about to risk.The remote wing was carved into the oldest part of the estate. Stone walls were cool to the touch, and the air smelled of dust, coolant, and mildew. Here, files were rarely touched. These weren’t the daily patient logs or
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