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A beauty in black.
Last Updated:
2023-08-08 16:52:43
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Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers Power couple
My breathing was too slow that my heart skipped a beat. Caelum stood there, smoking slowly. I couldn't see his face clearly but I could bet my life on the fact that he was staring straight at me and for some strange reason it made my stomach drop. but not in a bad way, not because I was feeling anxious or nervous no, it was the opposite. I was feeling a strange type of peace that made my stomach feel weird and that fact scared me to my bones. " Caelum " I whispered slowly as if he would hear me. And I saw him leaning his head back exactly at that moment like he heard me whisper his name, and it relieved him in some way. My ringtone startled me. I looked down at my phone, he was calling me. I picked it up and moved it closer to my ears. I heard his deep breathing first and then his deep, velvety voice came next. " Amara " He spoke my name with so much care, that he made it sound almost sacred. " Caelum " " How are you my swan? " I closed my eyes. After
Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers Starry night
I had just finished applying my face mask when the door bell rang, without even any doubt I knew who it was. Marina told me she'll be sending a assistant for me. But I still checked the security camera before opening the door. You can't take any risk if you're a woman living alone, and as expected it was her. A young girl, probably same as my own age. she stood before the door, her right hand was tightly clutching the sling bag at her side. She was nervous. I opened the door quickly, I smiled at her. She raised her eyes at me and I looked into a pair of chocolate brown eyes, she nervously smiled back. I envied her innocence. I was just like her once before I turned into this particular version of myself, who was cold and.. and strong. " Hello, please come inside, " I opened the door wider and stepped aside. She looked down, nodded once and stepped in. I closed the door behind her with a soft thud. " Have a seat, don't be so nervous, " I smiled once again. I wanted he
Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers Not all heroes wear masks
The city changed as I left the café. At first, it was subtle—a black car that lingered too long at a turn, a woman with a phone pointed just a second too long in my direction. I tightened the collar of my sweater and kept my face angled away from the street. But I knew that feeling. The air grows tighter. And the world, smaller. My driver opened the door for me, and I stepped into the backseat with practiced grace. We pulled away from Verde Fiore, winding through the ancient veins of Rome, heading toward the studio. The second rehearsal was due in less than an hour. I didn’t notice the third car until it sped up beside us. The first flash came like lightning. Then came another. And another. The sound of camera shutters, like mechanical gunfire, filled the space around us. My driver cursed under his breath. “Signorina—paparazzi.” I turned sharply. Three cars now. One directly behind us. One to the left, keeping pace. One ahead, slowing to block our path. From ever
Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers A Man Made of Silence
The office was too quiet, even for someone who’d come to love silence. Or maybe not love it—just forget how to hate it. The rain tapped against the glass of the penthouse windows as I stood staring at the city skyline, the vast sprawl of glass and chrome stretching beneath me. It should have felt triumphant. It didn’t. "Mr. Whitlock, the Tokyo team has confirmed the merger." I didn’t look away from the window. "Put it on my desk. I’ll review it later." "Yes, sir." I heard the secretary retreat, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. I waited for the door to close with a muted hiss before finally turning. The office was sharp and sterile. Mahogany desk, floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with untouched books, and a liquor cabinet I never used. The only thing personal in the entire room was a single velvet box in the bottom drawer of my desk—locked, untouched. My reflection caught in the glass. The tailored black suit, the gray eyes that no longer sparked, the hair
Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers My shadow in black suit
The city was quiet at dawn. Rome always woke slowly—like a lover reluctant to leave bed, curling back into warmth and marble silence. I stood by the tall window of my apartment, my hands wrapped around a cup of black tea. Below me, the street was just beginning to stir. A Vespa buzzed. A café owner unlocked his doors. The sky above was pale lavender, the kind of color that made me feel like I had already danced through a dream. I turned away from the view and moved through the apartment—barefoot on cool, polished floors, the silk hem of my robe whispering at my ankles. My rehearsal bag was packed. Hairpins ready. Pointe shoes tucked in like sleeping swans. A knock at the door broke the quiet. Three knocks. Not loud. Not urgent. Just... expectant. I didn’t even need to ask. It was him. I opened the door and found him standing there. Black suit, no tie, simple white shirt. Tall, lean, not brutish. The kind of man who blended into any hotel lobby or opera house. You wouldn’t rememb
Wrapped The Bully Around My Fingers This is my world now
The city of Rome gleamed beneath the dusky sky, its ancient streets echoing the low hum of life. After the warm dinner with Mama and Papa, I returned to my sanctuary—the apartment that cradled the version of me the world knew as Amara Liora. The Swan of Rome. The driver pulled up to the front of the building, and the doorman, Roberto, greeted me with a warm smile. " Good night, miss." "Good night, Roberto," I replied softly, stepping out as he opened the door for me. I nodded politely, tired but glowing from the comfort of home. The building was tucked in the quieter part of Trastevere, away from the tourists and noise. But nothing about it was modest. A beautiful blend of classic Roman architecture with subtle modern elegance, its cream façade held wrought-iron balconies adorned with red and white flowers. I took the private elevator to the top floor—my floor. The doors opened with a soft chime and I stepped into my apartment. Light spilled across marble floors, polished to a mu
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