Mr. Haska Forbidden Touch

The boarding room light flickered weakly, while the old ceiling fan spun with a tired creak. Alana sat on her narrow bed, a textbook open on her lap. Her eyes didn’t read the words; they only blurred into the weight of her thoughts.On the small desk, envelopes of unpaid bills lay scattered, some already gathering dust. The numbers inside haunted her like shadows. Her fingers clutched the edge of her blanket, fighting back the sting in her eyes.“Back then. I never imagined things would turn out like this,” she whispered.Her mind drifted to her childhood. A tenth birthday party—white silk dress, orchestra music, a five-tiered cake, and her mother’s graceful smile. Guests came one by one, shaking hands, speaking the Adinegara family name with respect.Now, the only company she had was a neighbor blasting dangdut music through thin walls.Alana exhaled a long, heavy sigh. “I used to have everything now I have nothing.”Knock! Knock! Knock!“Lan! Open up! I’ve got great news!”The f

She only wanted to survive the night unseen.But one familiar voice shattered her disguise—and with it, her carefully hidden past. The Sanjaya Corp ballroom glittered in golden light. Crystal chandeliers hung from the towering ceiling, scattering brilliance that made every gown shimmer even more. A soft orchestra played from the corner, blending occasionally with the crisp laughter of businessmen mingling with one another. The scent of fine wine mixed with expensive perfumes, wrapping the room in a glamour so thick it was almost suffocating.Amid the glittering crowd, a figure in a black-and-white uniform moved swiftly. She balanced a tray of champagne glasses with steady hands, careful not to spill a single drop. Alana kept her head slightly bowed, her face half-hidden beneath her fringe. She did everything she could to remain invisible among the glittering gowns and tailored suits that filled the hall.Working as a server in such a dazzling night felt like a cruel irony. But sh

The distance between them vanished in an instant.Sagara’s gaze locked onto Alana like a predator unwilling to let its prey escape. His eyes burned with a pressure so sharp it seemed to strip away every last defense she had left.“If I help you take revenge…” His voice came out low, rough, and cutting. “…you’ll have to belong to me. Not just your heart—everything. Including your body.”Alana’s breath caught. Her face went pale, her chest rising and falling with the weight of the words pressing into her lungs. “Don’t even dream of it, Sagara. That will never happen,” she whispered, fragile but unyielding. Her small hands curled into fists at her sides, trembling.But Sagara did not step back. He moved forward instead, each stride deliberate, heavy, dangerous. His breath came thick, like a man fighting with himself. “Don’t push me to lose control, Alana…” he muttered, his tone hovering between a threat and a plea.Then the shrill ring of a phone cut through the air, sharp enough to slic

The hospital corridor was eerily silent that night, so quiet that every footstep echoed sharply off the walls. The white fluorescent lights gave everything a cold, sterile glow, making the air feel heavier than it was.Alana sat stiffly on the waiting bench, her fingers tightly interlaced over the small purse clutched in her lap. Her empty eyes were fixed on the door of the examination room, her chest rising and falling with quiet, shaky breaths.Her grandmother was still inside.Every second that passed felt like the ticking hands of a clock deliberately slowed down to torture her.Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed from the far end of the hallway.“Alana!”Kenan appeared, breathless, his face etched with worry. He rushed toward her without hesitation and pulled her into a tight embrace the moment he reached her.His arms were warm. Steady.For the first time that night, Alana’s rigid body softened, leaning into the comfort she so desperately needed. Her shoulders trembled, her tears

The sound of rain outside blended with the rhythmic ticking of the clock, filling the grand, dimly lit room with a strange tension. Sagara sat in his leather armchair, one leg crossed over the other, fingers tapping the armrest in a steady beat. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the sharp line of his collarbone. A faint glow from the chandelier above cast half of his face in shadows, making the cold, calculating look in his eyes stand out even more. He had been waiting. When the heavy double doors finally opened, Alana stepped in. Her clothes were slightly damp from the rain, strands of hair sticking to her pale cheeks. Her eyes were red from crying, but behind that sadness was a quiet, stubborn fire. She stood at the threshold, breathing unevenly, as if crossing that doorway was the hardest decision she had ever made. Sagara leaned back, a slow, almost dangerous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “So you came,” he said in a low voice, as if he had kn