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Chp - 56[BLOOD AND BOUNDARIES]
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2025-12-21 04:50:54
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LOVE ME LIKE A CURSE Chp - 56[BLOOD AND BOUNDARIES]
Scene Opening: --- Knock. Knock. Knock. “Come in, nitwit!” Lucien’s voice boomed through the marble halls, echoing off the high ceilings of the D’Aragon estate. The front door slammed with the kind of finality only Emilio could manage. Lucien, perched behind his desk like an unshakable statue, didn’t even glance up. He already knew who it was. The scent of cologne mixed with whiskey and cigarette smoke clung to him. He already knew the culprit. “Lucien, you insufferable hermit!” a familiar voice called, laughter trailing after it. “It’s me. Your older—wait, no, younger, good-looking, and infinitely charming brother, Emilio. In case you forgot who keeps you slightly sane.” Lucien didn’t lift his gaze. “I’m busy.” “Busy?” Emilio echoed, mock offense lacing his voice. He leaned on the edge of Lucien’s desk, staring at the scattered papers. “Let me guess. Torturing your subordinates? Plotting world domination? Or saying cruel letters to women who probably shouldn’t be in
LOVE ME LIKE A CURSE Chp-55
WORK THE NEXT DAY: —–— I was hunched over my desk, the glow of my computer screen casting pale light across a stack of papers I was meant to organize hours ago, when Maya appeared at the edge of my desk. Her heels clicked softly against the tile as she leaned in, one hand on the divider. “Arabella,” she said, voice just loud enough to catch my attention without drawing the attention of the rest of the floor, “have you noticed Julien hasn’t been around lately?” I blinked, looking up. “Wait… Julien? “Yeah,” Maya said, leaning closer conspiratorially. “No one’s seen him for a while. It’s weird. I thought you might’ve noticed. You two were… you know, chatting last week, right?” I groaned softly and buried my face in my hands. “Oh, that. I didn’t even think about it. Honestly, I’ve been so wrapped up in reports and… everything else, I barely noticed.” Maya chuckled. “Typical. Always in your own little world. But it’s just strange — Julien’s never gone this long without someo
LOVE ME LIKE A CURSE Chp-54[“He’s Too Handsome, RHEA!”]
The apartment smelled faintly of lavender when I finally pushed the door open. The late afternoon light slanted across the living room, casting long shadows that stretched toward the kitchen, where the kettle was already whistling. “Hello?” I called, dropping my bag onto the small bench by the door. “Home early!” Rhea’s voice came from the couch. She was perched cross-legged, laptop balanced on her knees, headphones dangling around her neck, a mug of tea at her side. “Elias isn’t back yet. You’re lucky—it's just us.” I collapsed onto the sofa, letting out a long, dramatic sigh that Rhea immediately identified as “something big happened.” “You look like someone just fired a cannon in your chest,” she said, her eyes glittering with mischief. I laughed, flopping back against the cushions. “Close,” I admitted, tugging off my shoes. “I had to deliver a file to the CEO.” Rhea’s eyebrows shot up, and she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Lucien D’Aragon?” I groaned
LOVE ME LIKE A CURSE Chp-53["ARABELLA, HE SAID!"]
Monday mornings always felt heavier than they had any right to be. The morning hit Aragon Enterprises with the usual operational velocity: inboxes exploding, printers choking on color jobs, and department heads moving with the kind of urgency that suggested someone, somewhere, had already messed up. They had. ****************************>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Coffee in hand, I was barely awake, scanning my inbox when Mr's Heidi’s voice cut through my morning haze. “Arabella,” she said, leaning over, her tone brisk but not unkind. “I need you to take this corrected file to the CEO. It’s urgent. I’ll explain later, but get it to him now.” I blinked, startled. “The CEO?” “Yes,” she said, eyes sharp and unreadable. “Go.” My pulse picked up slightly. A simple errand, she insisted— I had seen him once or twice from a distance, at meetings or in passing, but never directly. Never like this. I carried the folder like it was a live wire, its contents small but explosive eno
LOVE ME LIKE A CURSE Chp-52 [THROUGH THE LENS: >>>HER]
The office had fully reclaimed its silence. Lucien sat, finally, in the leather chair behind his desk. The bourbon glass sat untouched beside him now, the last amber drop catching a glimpse sliver of light. He ignored it. He ignored everything that still smelled faintly of Duvesa. The moment she left, she stopped existing. Work pulled him in like gravity. He loosened his cuffs again, rolling his sleeves with precise, habitual motions, and tapped the keyboard. The monitor hummed awake, bathing his face in pale blue light. The screen filled with the morning briefing packet— European fluctuations South-Asia merger timeline Two departments requesting quarterly adjustments Everything ordinary, Everything predictable Everything he understood far more than he understood people. He scanned each report with cold efficiency, signing off where necessary, flagging what required cleaning. His mind sharpened with every line of text. Routine had always been his stabilizer. Pl
LOVE ME LIKE A CURSE CHP-51 [FOR THE SAKE OF PLEASURE]
>Tiny bits of light rays cut's through the blinds of Lucien D’Aragon’s office. --- The office was quiet — too quiet — except the sound of steady breathing and the faint hum of the city below, muffled through walls of glass. The scent of her lingered. Duvesa Alvarez lay back against the desk, her silk blouse half-buttoned, lips still painted in the aftermath of something she pretended was victory. Her hair spilled across the desk. Lucien stood a few steps away, sleeves rolled up, hands adjusting his cufflinks. Each movement was un-hurried. There was nothing rushed about him — not the way he breathed, not the way he looked at her. He moved as though time bowed to him. “Was I enough this time?” she asked. Her voice was small, but the question wasn’t. It was a crack in her armor, a plea disguised. Lucien’s gaze flicked toward the paperwork on his desk, the corner of his mouth lifting — not a smile, not really. More a shadow of one. “You were never meant to be enough,” he s
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