All Chapters of The Devil Who Bought Me : Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

The studio transformed into a war room. Hours bled into each other, marked only by the shifting light outside the tall windows and the increasing complexity of the air around them. Natalie moved with a practiced grace, her movements precise, almost ritualistic. She dipped glass droppers into tiny, labeled vials, each drop a calculated risk, a whispered promise. The raw, potent essence of vetiver, earthy and grounding, met the bright, almost sharp zest of bergamot. A hint of pink pepper, a playful, spicy note, danced on the edges, then settled into the creamy embrace of sandalwood. “It needs more,” Natalie murmured, holding a blotter strip to her nose. Her eyes were closed, her brow furrowed in concentration. “More… audacity. Something that screams, ‘I am here. I am inevitable.’” Anita, perched on a stool, meticulously recorded each adjustment in a leather-bound journal. “Audacity. A challenging note, boss. We could try a touch of civet, but it might be too animalic, too… aggressive.”

"Fortunes? what fortunes? is it...." her voice faltered. "don't pretend like you don't know?" Lorenzo said rolling his eyes. "your inheritance... that's the fortune they have always been following." he said. “Why would they… my own family…” she trailed off. “Greed, Natalie. Pure, unadulterated greed,” Lorenzo stated, his voice hard. “They manipulated the will, seized control of the Grimaldi assets. You were a complication. A rightful heir. They tried to dispose of you, first by sending you away, then by marrying you off to Viktor, who, coincidentally, was also involved in some of your uncle’s shadier dealings.” “And you?” she asked, a new, bitter anger rising. “You knew all of this? This whole time? And you said nothing?” He set his glass down with a soft clink. “I had my suspicions. But I needed proof. And I needed you to be safe.” He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. “And then, there’s the other reason.” He paused, his eyes searching hers, a flicker of s

He began to move, a slow, powerful thrust, then another, pulling almost completely out before driving back in, deeper, harder. A moan, long and guttural, tore from her throat as her body responded, arching against him, meeting his thrusts with an instinctive rhythm. The bedsprings creaked a frantic symphony beneath them, a testament to the raw, unbridled passion that consumed them. He leaned down, his lips finding hers, his tongue plunging into her mouth as his hips continued their relentless rhythm, a primal dance of ownership and surrender. Her nails dug into his shoulders, her body convulsing with each powerful thrust, the pleasure building, a relentless, overwhelming tide. He pulled back from the kiss, his eyes still burning into hers. “Remember, Natalie,” he gasped, his voice ragged, “remember everything.” He increased his pace, driving into her with a fierce, almost desperate urgency, each thrust a deeper claim, a more profound possession. Her body, a traitorous landscape of

One afternoon, a frantic call from Flora shattered the fragile peace of the De Luca estate. “Signore! There’s… there’s been an incident at the south gate!” Flora’s voice was breathless, laced with panic. “A convoy… armed men… they’re demanding to speak with the Signora!” Lorenzo’s blood ran cold. *Armed men*. His mind immediately went to Viktor Roman, to Esmeralda, to Gideon. They were making their move. He found Natalie in the library, still surrounded by documents, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Natalie,” he said, his voice clipped, urgent. “We have company.” She looked up, her eyes wide, sensing the shift in his demeanor. “What is it?” “Viktor Roman,” he stated, his jaw tight. “He’s here. And he’s not alone.” Before she could react, a loud crash reverberated through the house, followed by the splintering sound of wood. The south gate had been breached. The air crackled with a sudden, terrifying tension. Lorenzo moved with practiced speed, pulling a sleek, black

The chill of the marble floor seeped through Natalie’s silk slippers as she moved through the darkened halls. Moonlight, thin and silver, sliced through the tall archways, painting stark shadows that danced with her every step. The mansion, usually a hive of quiet activity, now held its breath, a vast, opulent tomb. She clutched a small, leather-bound notebook, its pages filled with the meticulous script of Anita’s observations, Lucian’s whispered hints, and Isabella's unwitting revelations. Every detail, every overheard conversation, every seemingly innocuous fact about Lorenzo’s empire, she had committed to paper, a weapon forged in secret. Her destination: Lorenzo’s private study. Isabella had whispered so obviously about the room and how it held all the family secrets. "That room is timeless, You don't need to ask random people questions. All your answers were there." she has said. How she knew, Natalie couldn't fathom, Given that she had come to stay with her in the de Luca