บททั้งหมดของ His Possession: Don’s Reluctant Bride : บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

The gates creaked open with a slow, ominous groan, revealing the Moretti estate—more fortress than home. Cold stone walls loomed ahead, soaked in shadows despite the afternoon sun. Elana sat stiffly in the back of the black car, her hands clenched into fists on her lap. The ring her father forced onto her finger that morning felt like a shackle. A cruel symbol of her cage. She wasn’t wearing white. Luca hadn’t even shown up for the “wedding.” It was nothing but a contract—cold, lifeless, and terrifyingly binding. And now she was being dropped off like a package, her body traded to erase a debt she didn’t owe. The driver didn’t speak. No one did. Not until the car stopped and the door was opened for her. “Elana Romano,” a low voice said. She looked up sharply, and there he was. Luca Moretti Tall, dark, and as dangerously composed as the rumors claimed. Dressed in a tailored black suit, he stood at the top of the stone steps, hands clasped behind his back like a king awaiti

Elana awoke to a knock at the door, sharp and precise—just like everything else in the Moretti mansion. The sun had barely begun to bleed into the sky, and already she felt the weight of the day pressing down on her chest. She sat up slowly, brushing her tangled hair back. “Yes?” she called, voice hoarse. A maid peeked in. “The Don requests your presence in the greenhouse.” Greenhouse? The word felt out of place in this world of guns and stone. Still, Elana dressed quickly. If Luca wanted something, he’d get it—on her terms. She chose a soft blue dress, something that hugged her figure but wasn’t too revealing. A subtle message: She wasn’t here to seduce. She was here to exist on her own damn feet. The greenhouse was tucked behind the main house, surrounded by tall hedges and marble statues that stared with hollow eyes. When she stepped inside, the warmth and scent of fresh earth wrapped around her like a forgotten memory. Vines curled along glass walls. Roses bloomed in

Elana sat in front of the vanity, brushing out her damp hair. The soft clicks of the brush filled the quiet, each stroke pulling her deeper into the swirl of thoughts she couldn’t untangle. Why did Luca’s voice still echo in her head? You’re my wife. And maybe someday… you’ll be more than just someone I married out of necessity. She had expected coldness. Domination. Control. But what she hadn’t expected—couldn’t have predicted—was the glimpse of something softer, buried beneath his armor. Still, she didn’t trust him. Not yet. There was something about the way he watched her, how he read her like a loaded question, always teetering on the edge of too much. A knock came at her door. Her hand froze mid-brush. “Yes?” “It’s me.” Luca. Of course. She stood slowly, walking over in her robe and opening the door just wide enough to see his face. He was dressed in another dark suit, but this one was open at the collar, a glint of something silver at his neck. “Can I

The morning light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the bedroom, casting soft golden hues across the silk sheets. Elana stirred slowly beneath the covers, her muscles sore and her thoughts tangled. Sleep had been elusive. Her body might’ve rested, but her mind had raced through every word Luca had said the night before. You want freedom, Elana? Then earn it. Learn how to move like a Moretti. His voice still echoed in her ears. She wanted to dismiss it as just another power move, another game in his endless cycle of dominance—but it hadn’t felt like one. For once, he hadn’t looked at her like a trophy. He’d looked at her like a woman who mattered. A woman he couldn’t afford to lose. Still, she couldn’t allow herself to be drawn in. Not now. When the knock came on her door, she was already dressed in leggings and a fitted top—comfort over luxury. No one had told her what training with the don would look like, but she had a feeling heels and diamonds weren’t on the

The tension between them was a living thing now, thick in the air as Luca and Elana stood in the library, neither willing to break the fragile silence. Finally, Luca stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate—giving her every chance to pull away. She didn’t. She couldn’t. Her body was frozen in place, her heart hammering against her ribs as if trying to break free. “You don’t have to be afraid of me,” he said, voice rough. “I’m not afraid,” she lied. He smiled faintly, like he knew better. “Good. Because I’m not here to force anything, Elana. Not anymore.” The admission caught her off guard. Was this another strategy? Another game to lower her defenses? “Why the sudden change of heart?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest, guarding herself. “Because you’re not the girl I thought you were,” Luca answered without hesitation. “You’re stronger. Smarter. Braver.” “And that scares you?” “It terrifies me.” His honesty was disarming, and for a moment, Elana did