Semua Bab A Forbidden Night With The Enemy: Bab 21 - Bab 30

Maria Reyes I was suffocating on the floor, each breath was a struggle against the pressure still crushing my windpipe—the marks left by Darian’s hands. My body lay helpless on the cold floor. It took away my warmth and contrasted with the fire still burning where his fingers had pressed into my skin. Every muscle felt tight from the shocking violence. My ribs ached with each shallow breath, a dull pain beneath the sharper sting in my neck. Everything hurt. Slowly, I managed to lift my head just a little. There he was, crouched next to me, looking like an angel in a dark suit. He wasn’t looming, but he dominated the space. His piercing ice-gray eyes held me in place. It wasn’t just a look; it felt like a weight pressing on my chest, making it hard to breathe. I wanted to shrink away, to disappear onto the floor. Then his eyes softened for a moment, it looked like regret. A crack in the terrifying armor of the man who had just tried to kill me. The sight shocked me. Regret? His e

Darian Wolve While driving home, I remembered Maria's throat under my fingers. How fragile it felt. Her choked gasp. Her wide hazel eyes full of terror and deep betrayal. It hurt like a real blow. I couldn't forget her crumpled body on the rug. "Weakness." The word hissed in my mind, cold and nasty. I showed weakness. That stupid moment of pity. That unwanted regret when I looked at her. Unacceptable. Control is my armor. My only real weapon. Losing control for her... for Hector Reyes's daughter... was a weakness I hated. I slammed my fist on the wheel. The leather made a dull thud. It matched the frustration pounding in my head. The plan to isolate her worked perfectly. Viper blew up old equipment at Reyes warehouses. He spread rumors to make it sound worse. It worked. Hector's loyal guards abandoned her right away. They ran back to defend Hector's failing empire. Proof: Hector cared more about his name and legacy than his own daughter. I made myself seem like the necessary evil. T

Naomi Velez I sat on the cold floor of Viper’s trap with my back pressed against the bed and the silence driving me crazy. He’d just left, his footsteps fading down the hall, but his last words stuck in my head like a song. "Relax, honey, for once in your life, make yourself come first." It stung because it was true. I’d always been the bright one, the friend who smiled and fixed things—Maria’s messes, my family’s fights, everyone’s problems but mine. And what did I get? Not much. No sweet words whispered in my ear, no hands pulling me close under the stars. Romance? That was a story for someone else. The room felt empty, the air thick with the smell of his cologne. I glanced at the clock on the wall. Tick, tick, tick. Time crawled slowly; Each second I grew impatient. I was waiting for him. Viper. The man who’d trapped me here, who’d turned my plan to save Maria into this twisted game. I’d tried everything—jiggling the window, picking at the lock with a hairpin, even slamming

Darian Wolfe I stood there, stunned at who I saw, "Hello Darian." Her words hung in the air. There she was—Linda Maurice. Her perfume hit me first, a rosy, oriental wave that dragged me back decades—to a mansion that had been both salvation and cage. I stepped inside, she was in her early forties, doing nothing to dull the sharp beauty I’d known since I was a boy. Flynn Maurice’s youngest daughter, the billionaire who’d rescued me from the orphanage after my father’s death, promised me a future. A promise that came with chains. "Hey, Linda," I said, forcing a casual edge as I turned to my closet, sliding my watch off with a flick of my wrist. "What a surprise." "Seems like you weren’t expecting me at all," she replied, brushing her hair back with that deliberate grace she’d always wielded like a weapon. She closed the distance between us, her heels clicking softly against the hardwood. I could feel her eyes on me, uncovering the layers I’d built over the years. "Work," I sighed

Maria Reyes I opened my eyes to a soft, golden glow flickering across the stone walls. The room felt old, like a castle from a storybook, with its heavy beams overhead and a fireplace crackling in the corner.My body ached—bruises throbbed from the attack in the car park, my nose still tender from where I’d been hit—but the quiet here wrapped around me like a blanket. The air smelled of woodsmoke and wax, warm and steady, pulling me into a strange calm. I shifted on the bed, the mattress soft beneath me, and that’s when I saw him.Darian Wolfe stood by the fireplace, shirtless, pouring wine into a glass. The firelight danced over his broad shoulders, catching the scars that slashed across his skin—marks of a life I was only beginning to understand.He looked peaceful, his movements slow and sure, and for a moment, I just watched him. His dark hair fell slightly over his forehead, and his jaw was sharp against the warm light.He was handsome—too handsome—and my chest tightened with fe