His Mistress. のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

Angel's Point Of View Standing before me, his grip firm yet gentle, his gaze impassive. “Mr. D’Amano?” My voice came out quieter than I intended. “Are you done with your training?” His voice was unreadable, his expression giving nothing away. “Y…yes, I was just about to leave,” I replied, hating the way my words wavered under his intense stare. “I’ll drop you off.” It wasn’t an offer. It was a command. “No..no..no, Mr. D’Amano, I…I can mana….” “You don’t have a choice, Caramella,” he interrupted, his deep voice laced with dominance. I sucked in a breath. There was no use arguing—he had already decided. So I let him lead me to his car, a sleek sky-blue luxurious sedan that stood with an air of power, its tinted windows concealing the mysteries within. I expected him to simply get in and let me fend for myself, but instead, he surprised me. Without a word, he opened the passenger door for me. I hesitated for a second before offering him a shy smile and slipping ins

Angel's Point Of View The VIP section of the restaurant was as extravagant as expected—soft golden lighting, velvet seating, and a live guitarist strumming a slow Spanish melody in the background. Nickolai ordered a Spanish dish, something rich and traditional, while I went with an Italian classic—spaghetti politaine, paired with a bottle of fruit juice. For a while, we ate in silence. It was almost… comfortable. Then, he spoke. “Tell me, Angel, what made you become a stripper?” The question came without warning, blunt and shameless. There was no filter. No hesitation. I set my fork down, and looked him dead in the eyes. “I needed the money,” I replied, my voice deliberately blank. “So, you decided to sell—” “You don’t have to worry, Mr. Nickolai,” I cut him off, my voice sharp, my fists clenching under the table. “I may have been an exotic dancer, but I never had to sell my body.” His words stung in a way I hadn’t expected. A part of me knew people thought

💮Raul💮 After a long, exhausting day at the publishing company, I finally made my way back to my condo in Paris. The city lights blurred past the windshield, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to sink into silence—and maybe a drink. As soon as I walked through the door, the rich, savory scent of stewed chicken hit me, wrapping around me like a warm welcome. My stomach responded immediately, and I found myself licking my lips unconsciously. Catalina. I guessed she was in the kitchen. Without making a sound, I climbed the stairs and headed straight to our bedroom to freshen up. I changed into a pair of white sweats, tossing my shirt onto the bed, already mentally checking out from the day. When I came downstairs, she was setting the table, her movements graceful—too graceful. She must’ve heard me because her head snapped up and her eyes locked on mine. She was dressed in gray lingerie. The lace barely concealed her pink nipples, and her pale skin seeme

Angel's Point Of View The car ride was silent, the night outside growing darker as I stared out the window, lost in my thoughts. I couldn’t help but wonder why it wasn’t Nickolai I wanted. He checked all the boxes—he was perfect, really. So why was my heart so consumed with a man who didn’t belong to me? Raul D’Amano. He was everything I wanted, everything I craved, but there was one thing that disqualified him—the ring on his finger. Raul was married, and I wasn’t about to be that woman. I wasn’t a homewrecker. I wasn’t some mistress in the shadows. But deep down, I couldn’t shake this longing for him. I couldn’t forget the way my body responded to him. The way my heart raced every time he was near, even though I knew I shouldn’t feel this way. Growing up, life was never kind to me. Despite being the daughter of a rich man, I never got the privilege of living a “princess” life. My father left us to be with another family, leaving us with nothing but an empty house i

I arched a brow, curious and bracing for the worst. “I…I didn’t gamble.” My heart skipped. That should’ve been good news, but the hesitation in his voice set off alarms in my chest. “Then what?” He scratched the back of his neck. “Please don’t get mad.” “Luca,” I warned, narrowing my eyes. He took a deep breath like he was about to walk into a battlefield. “I… I stripped. For an old lady.” My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. There was a heartbeat of stunned silence before I completely lost it. Laughter bubbled out of me in uncontrollable waves. I didn’t know what part of it triggered me—probably the image of him gyrating awkwardly in front of a wrinkled stranger, but I was cackling like I’d lost my mind. When I saw the dead-serious look on his face, I tried to rein it in. “Wait…. You’re not kidding?” “Does it look like I’m kidding, Angel?” He snapped, clearly annoyed. “Okay, okay,” I said between chuckles. “Don’t get your pants twisted. It’s just…