บททั้งหมดของ His Sinful Desire: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

ERICA Hot breath hovered over my skin, teeth grazing my flesh, and nails digging deep into it. I could feel his arousal hard against me as he caged me, his body firmly pressed onto mine. Bruising kisses scattered across my skin, and I whimpered, too drained to even scream or fight back. “Tonight, I’ll show you exactly what you are,” his dark tone whispered into my ear. “Raffael!” I screamed, jolting upright from the bed at once. My breath came in labored and rugged, sweat beads coating my forehead even though the room wasn’t hot at all. I placed a hand on my chest, trying to steady my frantic breathing and heartbeat as I felt my heart sink into my stomach. Trailing my gaze to the clock in my room, I was shocked to find it was ten minutes past six. Had I slept through the entire day? Hurriedly, I stepped out of bed and headed to the bathroom to freshen up so I could prepare dinner. Ever since my terrible encounter with Raffael at the club a few days ago, where he practica

CLARISSADAYS LATER The penthouse was bathed in the amber glow of the evening sun as Raffael and I stepped inside. I had suggested that we spend time in one of his pent houses to celebrate his latest business contract and also to spend time together. The sleek, minimalist decor screamed luxury, but to me, it felt cold—like the man walking beside me. He moved with his usual commanding presence, his dark suit perfectly tailored, his expression unreadable. As the door clicked shut behind us, I tried to fill the silence with small talk. Did you see the latest article about you? They called you ‘the king of the underworld empire.’ Quite the title, don’t you think?” I said with a light laugh, watching for any reaction. “Hm,” he replied, loosening his tie as he strode toward the living room. I followed, biting my lip. He always gave me so little to work with. “Maybe I should start calling you Your Majesty,” I teased, hoping for at least a smirk. Instead, he sank onto the edge of the

CLARISSA The neon lights of the strip club buzzed faintly as I stepped inside, the stale air thick with cheap perfume and sweat. My stiletto heels clicked against the tiled floor as I walked with purpose, a wad of cash clutched in my hand. I didn’t want to be here, especially not to deal with the likes of Daisy, Chloe, and Melanie, but they’d left me no choice. I hated this place—the flashing lights, the lecherous men, and especially her. Erica. She was the root of all my problems, a constant thorn in my side. If Raffael didn’t have his obsession with her, my life would’ve been perfect. Instead, I was here, trying to keep three dancers from spilling my secrets to him. The dressing room door creaked as I pushed it open. I inhaled sharply, masking my irritation with a haughty expression. The smell of cheap perfume was overwhelming, mingling with the sweat and smoke that seemed to cling to everything in this place. Inside, the girls were lounging, preparing for their next show. D

RAFFAEL The chandelier above cast a soft glow over the dining room, highlighting the silverware and expensive crystal glasses. My mother, sat at the head of the table with an air of quiet authority. Across from her, Mrs. Taylor Cutter, Clarissa’s overbearing mother, adjusted her necklace, a smug smile tugging at her lips. Clarissa sat beside me, her hand resting on my arm. She looked serene, but the way her nails dug into my skin told me otherwise. When my mother informed me that I'd have to host Clarissa and her mother for dinner, I knew it was just another avenue for the three of them to get under my skin and try to convince me to hasten up my wedding plans with Clarissa. Fuck. I groaned within myself. I fucking dont want to get married talk more of doing it with Clarissa. The only damn reason I'm stuck in this shit trap is because of our family ties. My later father had arranged for my marriage to Clarissa even before I was born. The Cutters and my family were not only friend

ERICA The soft hum of the supermarket's air conditioning was a small comfort as I strolled through the aisles, picking up the essentials. We were low on some groceries and dairy products so I decided to venture to the super market this morning but not before informing Raffael by the way. Atleast I could get that done and off my list before I prepare for the night work at that fucking club again. Right now, what I had in my cart was a loaf of bread, a carton of milk, some fresh vegetables. It was mundane, but it felt like a slice of normalcy in the chaotic storm that my life had become. For a few minutes, I could pretend that I wasn’t constantly looking over my shoulder. For some reason I felt being watched. But would Raffael be crazy enough to track my every movement down to the super market? I doubt not. I can’t run away from him that’s for sure, he had left me no choice to do that. I turned into the cereal aisle, scanning the shelves for something cheap but filling.