Semua Bab HIS FORBIDDEN TEMPTATION : Bab 251 - Bab 256

The soft sound of her breathing was the only thing in the room.I lay still, eyes open, staring at the ceiling that glowed faintly from the sliver of moonlight bleeding through the curtains. Emily’s head was tucked against my shoulder, her hair spilling over my chest like silk, her hand resting on my ribs as though she was holding me in place even in sleep.God, she was beautiful like this. Peaceful. Untouched by the chaos that was tearing into every corner of my mind.I turned my head just slightly, catching the delicate curve of her face, her lashes brushing against her cheeks, her lips parted just enough to let out those steady little breaths. She didn’t even try to be beautiful. She simply was.A man like me shouldn’t be allowed to have something this soft. This innocent.And yet here she was, in my arms, sleeping like I was her safe place.I couldn’t help myself—I leaned down and pressed the barest kiss to her temple. She shifted, sighing softly, but didn’t wake.For a moment I s

The sun was high by the time I arrived at the site, its warmth spilling across the unfinished walls of the hotel. The steel framework that had once looked like nothing more than a skeletal dream was now transformed—solid walls standing proud, glass gleaming in places where sunlight caught, the faint smell of fresh paint and polished wood filling the air.I exhaled, my chest swelling with something I hadn’t felt in days. Pride. Excitement. Relief.It was finally coming together.Walking across the marble-floored lobby, I trailed my fingertips along the cool stone of the walls, imagining how the chandeliers would catch the light, how the guests would stop and stare in awe. It was mine—every inch of it bore my fingerprints, my sleepless nights, my sacrifices.And I needed that today.I needed to bury myself in this, to let the chaos at home—Amanda, her return, Lorenzo’s tight jaw and haunted eyes—slip away. Here, I wasn’t the woman caught in the middle of a storm. Here, I was Emily. A wo

Lorenzo’s bloodied hand trembled in mine, his skin warm, slick with crimson, but all I could think about was holding him together. Holding us together. His outburst, the violence, the wall shattered by his fist—it had shaken me to my core, but right now, all I could see was the man beneath the rage. The man who had been hurt, broken, twisted by a past he never asked for. And still, somehow, he was mine. I tightened my grip on his wrist and whispered, “Come sit down. Let me bandage this.” For once, he didn’t argue. He didn’t resist. He just gave me a tired nod, his jaw still tight, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. His shoulders slumped, his body rigid, but his eyes never left me as I rushed to the cabinet, pulling out the first aid box. My heart hammered in my chest as I knelt in front of him, placing the box on the carpet. The sight of his knuckles made me wince—split open, raw, bloodied. It hurt to look at, as though the pain was mine. My stomach twisted with guilt and lov