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Chapter 46 - Haus Hohenzollern Archives
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2025-05-29 12:54:16
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The Tycoon’s Temptress - Red Flower’s Chase Chapter 47 - Namibian Heat
Raffaele’s POV I woke before the sun had fully crested the dunes, the light creeping through the thin hotel curtains in a dull gold haze. Valentina lay beside me, her dark hair spilling across the pillow. Her brow was furrowed, even in sleep. I had taken her to the most luxurious hotel the city could offer—Strand Hotel Swakopmund—right on the beachfront promenade, with panoramic views of the Atlantic Ocean. Modern interiors blended with coastal charm, large windows, and stylish suites. Quiet luxury with a mix of German colonial influence and Namibian warmth. The room had a soft blue pastel shade, contrasting red color-block cushions, a red plush chair, cream-colored curtains, and that stunning view. But the most stunning wasn’t the view—it was Valentina. I was so drawn to her I couldn’t resist. She didn’t stir when I shifted. Just curled tighter into the sheets, one hand still resting against my chest like she had something to hold on to. For a moment, I stayed there
The Tycoon’s Temptress - Red Flower’s Chase Chapter 46 - Haus Hohenzollern Archives
Raffaele’s POV After lunch at Jetty 1905, we didn’t linger. Valentina had somehow pulled herself back together to her usual poised self. She felt less brittle and more focused. The wine had smoothed her edges, and I could already see the excitement brimming in her eyes. As we drove through Swakopmund, the streets shifted from wide, sandy roads to rows of pastel-colored houses with curved balconies and ornate trim. The town, once a German outpost, still wore its colonial past—buildings in Jugendstil and Art Nouveau lining the streets like something from a misplaced European postcard. It looked more like a seaside resort town from Germany than anything I expected in the Namibian desert. So out of place. And strangely elegant. By the time the limousine rolled up to the colonial archives in central Swakopmund, she was practically vibrating with restrained anticipation. The building Haus Hohenzollern had once been a hotel for German dignitaries, then a gambling den
The Tycoon’s Temptress - Red Flower’s Chase Chapter 45 - Shipwrecked Clues
Raffaele's POV Valentina pulled back just as the plane jolted for landing. Her chest rose sharply, breath catching in her throat like something was stuck there. Her hands trembled, still pressed to my chest, but no longer in surrender. Now they were bracing. “Valentina?” I said carefully. What was really going on here? Her reaction wasn’t what I had expected. I had been so careful, patient and waited for her. I saw the way she looked at me, that burning fever of longing in her eyes—yet she still held me at arm’s length. That kind of emotion didn’t lie. But still, she pushed me away. Like I was the danger. Or worse—like she believed she was. She shook her head. “I can’t—” Her voice broke. “Not like this.” Her eyes darted, unfocused, like the walls were closing in. One hand clutched her chest; the other searched for something that wasn’t me. Her breathing came out short and uneven. I reached for her arm. “Don’t—” she gasped. “I just need… a second. I can’t
The Tycoon’s Temptress - Red Flower’s Chase Chapter 44 - Touchdown in The Namibian Heat
Raffaele’s POV My private jet will soon touch down at a remote airstrip near Swakopmund, the closest suitable runway for Namibia’s Skeleton Coast region in Africa. My shoulders are tense and tired—I’m still rattled from Domenico’s call and Fiametta’s madness. Valentina sits quietly across from me, clutching her head, still recovering from the lingering effects of the vision and the altitude sickness from Gurudongmar. The jet cabin is dim, silent except for the engine’s faint buzz. I loosen my collar, pressing my fingers to my temples. The dull ache comes every time I hear the name Fiametta. Valentina rests against the window, head tilted, trying to block out the light. “You okay?” I ask, not really expecting her to say yes. She smirks faintly. “Just seeing sunken cities and lost shipwrecks. You?” I give a tight smile. “Fiametta threatened to swan dive off a shopping mall, Domenico nearly had a stroke, and my father still thinks love means property rights.” I lean back. “So…
The Tycoon’s Temptress - Red Flower’s Chase Chapter 43 - The Sacred Lake
Raffaele’s POV When the light settled and the violet glow vanished, I knew we were back. Our bodies hit the polished wooden floor with a dull thud. Valentina groaned beside me. “I swear, one of these landings will break my spine.” “Raffaele, can you not—you’re on top of me again!” Valentina said with a breathless gasp. I propped myself up, wincing. “Excuse me, cara mia,” I said with a crooked smirk, then rolled off her with a grunt. “Remind me to ask the monks for a softer landing mat next time.” The air was cooler, thinner and familiar. Stone walls surrounded us. Candles flickered against the walls. I recognized the chamber instantly. The monastery. We had returned to the same place where it all began—where Valentina had first drunk that strange Enlightment water, where she met the monk who called her flower bearer. Deva Pran. Since his name meant Divine Breath, it felt fitting—this whole place seemed to breathe through time itself. Someone cleared his thro
The Tycoon’s Temptress - Red Flower’s Chase Chapter 42 - Xerxes’ Secrets
Raffaele’s POV As we fell, time slowed. A flash—rain hammering the windows in Milan. My father, Enzo, pacing like a caged animal, ranting about Fiametta. Another fight. Another one of her regular disappearances. Oil contracts and half-torn love letters scattered across the floor. I remember hiding behind the curtain, barely breathing, as he hurled a glass at the wall. His voice low and cracked: “If I can’t have her, no one can” The next day, he vanished. Gone to madness, out to find her. And I was left behind to clean up the wreckage. That night, I made a vow: I would never let obsession consume me. But I also knew—I could never let someone I care about deeply fall alone. Next thing I knew, I landed on Valentina with a thud. She groaned and complained, “Why are you always stealing my air?” I smirked. “Admit it, Valentina—I make you always breathless.” “No, you are crushing me!” “Ooh!” I said, and grabbed a hold of her waist, flipping her on top of me. “N
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