บททั้งหมดของ Raw Pleasures: บทที่ 51 - บทที่ 60

THIRD PERSON POVMorning sun cut through the blinds of Grant’s office, but the atmosphere was anything but warm. The air smelled of polished wood, bitter coffee, and fear.Mr. Grant stood stiff near his desk, sweat glistening at his temples despite the chill of the air conditioning. He smoothed his tie once, twice, a nervous tic he couldn’t shake.The elevator doors opened.In strode Señor Alejandro Cortez, flanked by two men in sharp suits, their silence louder than any gun. His presence filled the room before his voice did—broad-shouldered, deliberate in every step, his black suit tailored like armor.“Grant.” His accent wrapped around the single word like velvet over steel.Grant bowed his head quickly. “Señor Cortez… I—I assure you, we will resolve this misunderstanding immediately.”Cortez ignored the pleasantries, walking straight to the wide screen where the security officer was queuing up the surveillance footage. His mask of control never slipped, but his jaw was tight, eyes

THIRD PERSON POVAlina woke to the softness of silk sheets brushing against her skin, her body nestled in a bed too large and too luxurious to belong to her. The faint scent of lavender drifted in the air. She blinked, adjusting to the golden light spilling in from tall, curtained windows.A soft murmur of voices lingered at the edges of her awareness. When she shifted, two women in crisp uniforms were instantly at her side—one offering her water on a silver tray, the other adjusting her pillows as though she were royalty.“You’re awake,” one said gently. “Take your time. If you need anything, call.”Still dazed, Alina allowed herself to be guided, helped to her feet. They led her through winding halls until the double doors of a grand sitting room opened before her.Señor Álvarez was already there. He did not stand, but the weight of his presence filled the room more than any king on a throne. His dark eyes fixed on her, and for a moment, she felt as though he could see through the l

ALINA'S POVThe gown clung to me like a secret. Midnight velvet, slit scandalously high, low neckline daring enough to silence a room. My fingers smoothed the fabric over my hips as I caught my reflection in the mirror. A wicked smile curved my lips.Tonight wasn’t about looking beautiful.It was about power.I wanted him—Señor Álvarez Alejandro Cortez III—to feel it. To feel me. To burn under the weight of wanting, to crack beneath the cool mask he wore so damn well. He had kissed me once, commanded me with words that made my chest tighten and my thighs clench. But then he called me… friend.Friend.I wasn’t his friend. Not in my veins, not in my fantasies, not in the way his kiss still haunted my mouth. If he wanted to pretend distance, I’d make him choke on it.“Push him,” I whispered to my reflection. “Make him see you.”He thought he commanded? Tonight, I would test the edges of his control.The car ride was a blur. Zara was giddy, drowning in her new dress and the hot stranger s

THIRD PERSON POVThe hum of computers filled the open office, a steady backdrop to the low murmur of voices. Reports were being filed, keyboards clacked, printers whirred — but all Ethan could focus on was Damian.Damian sat across the room, sleeves rolled up, collar undone just enough to show a sliver of chest. He leaned back in his chair as he scrolled through a report, the kind of easy confidence that made people look twice without realizing why. Ethan knew he shouldn’t stare, but his eyes kept betraying him.Every time Damian laughed at something on his screen, Ethan felt it — low in his stomach. Every time Damian stretched, muscles shifting under his shirt, Ethan’s thoughts slipped to places far from spreadsheets and quarterly reports.And Damian noticed. Oh, he noticed.“Ethan,” Damian’s voice broke through the air, smooth and playful, just loud enough for a few heads to turn. “You’re burning holes in me with that stare, man. Need something?”A few chuckles rippled through the r

THIRD PERSON POVThe gym was nearly empty when Noah walked into the locker room, his duffel bag hanging heavy on his shoulder. The late-night silence was always what he liked most about this place—the clank of weights gone, the hum of machines silenced, only the faint hiss of showers running in the distance. It gave him peace. It gave him space to breathe.But tonight, peace wasn’t all he felt.He tossed his bag onto the bench and sat down to untie his shoes, muscles still buzzing from his workout. Sweat clung to his body, dampening the collar of his shirt. He peeled it off, tossed it beside him, and ran a hand through his messy hair.That was when the sound hit him—deep, steady, like thunder muffled through stone. The sound of water hammering tile. One of the showers was running.And then a shadow moved.Arthur.He’d seen the man around before—hard not to. Six foot three, built like a war god, always focused, always commanding space without ever speaking. The kind of guy who didn’t j