บททั้งหมดของ Sinful Desires: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Selena hummed softly as she applied the final touches to her makeup, her mind still lingering on the afternoon she'd spent with Miguel. The memory of his laughter warmed her from within as she reached for her lipstick. "Mama, look!" he had shouted earlier that day, proudly holding up a drawing of what appeared to be two stick figures—one tall, one small—standing before a house with an impossibly large sun beaming down on them. "It's beautiful, mi vida," she had whispered, fighting back tears as she gathered him into her arms. Four years old and already so talented, so perfect. "Is this us?" "Yes!" Miguel had nodded enthusiastically, his dark curls bouncing. "And that's our house. The one you said we'll have someday." The promise she'd made him—a real home, just the two of them, far away from Xavier's watchful eyes—felt both like a lifeline and a cruel fantasy. Every Saturday, these precious hours with her son were all that kept her going, all that made the rest of her captivit

Victor stood at the entrance of the grand ballroom, his mask concealing the scars that told the story of his resurrection. The opulent display of wealth surrounding him—crystal chandeliers, ice sculptures, and the elite of the criminal world draped in designer fabrics—only fueled his determination. He scanned the crowd methodically, his crew flanking him. "See anything you like, boss?" Jordan whispered, adjusting his silver mask. His eyes darted appreciatively toward a group of women by the champagne fountain. Maria elbowed him sharply. "We're here to work, not for you to find your next disappointment," she hissed through her mask. "Children, please," Gerald muttered, his voice low and measured beneath his mask. "This isn't a playground. Victor needs to concentrate." Jordan rolled his eyes. "You're not my father, old man." "Thank heaven for small mercies," Gerald replied dryly. "Now behave yourself before I make you wait in the car." Maria stifled a laugh, but her amusement fade

Selena felt the room spinning as her lungs screamed for air. Xavier's fingers dug deeper into her throat, his face contorted with rage and fear. "Did he approach you at the ball?" Xavier demanded again, his voice low and dangerous. "Has he contacted you before tonight? Tell me!" She clawed weakly at his wrist, dark spots dancing at the edges of her vision. Xavier leaned closer, his breath hot against her face. "If you're lying to me, Selena, Miguel will pay the price. Your precious little boy will suffer for your betrayal. Do you understand me?" At the mention of her son's name, terror surged through her body. Selena nodded frantically, ready to confess everything—the dance with Victor, the photo he'd seen, every word they'd exchanged—anything to protect Miguel. Just as she opened her mouth, the door burst open. One of Xavier's bodyguards rushed in, breathless and agitated. "Sir, we have a problem," the man announced, oblivious to the scene before him. "The security system

Miguel sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor, clutching his favorite blue crayon between his small fingers. His tongue poked out slightly from the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on adding the final touches to his drawing. "Mommy will like this," he whispered to himself, tilting his head to examine his artwork. The drawing showed two stick figures holding hands beneath a bright yellow sun. One tall with long black hair, one small with a big smile. Miguel and his mommy. He sighed, setting down the crayon and looking around his room. It was big—too big for a four-year-old boy. The walls were painted a soft blue with clouds near the ceiling. His bed was shaped like a race car, with red sheets and pillows that matched the carpet. Shelves lined with toys and books covered one wall, and a small desk sat beneath a window with heavy curtains that were always kept closed. Despite all the toys, the room felt empty. Lonely. "I miss Mommy," Miguel said to his stuffed bear, Mr. Gr

Xavier's rage slammed his fist against the leather seat of his Mercedes, the impact making a dull thud that echoed in the tense silence of the car. The guard seated beside the driver flinched but kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, knowing better than to acknowledge his boss's outburst. "Goddamn it!" Xavier shouted, his usually composed face now contorted with rage. "I knew it. I fucking knew it!" The image from the news broadcast kept replaying in his mind—security footage showing him with the Moretti family, discussing the fact that Ghost was Victor. Money spread across the table like a fan of death sentences. Every bill potentially another nail in his coffin. "There's a rat, a fucking rat!" he seethed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, now slightly disheveled from his agitation. "Someone close to me set up that camera, Someone must be working with Victor." His mind raced through possibilities. Who would dare betray him? Who had access? Who had motive? "Selena?"