All Chapters of SIGHTLESS OBSESSION : Chapter 31 - Chapter 35

Lucian Moretti – POV The blacked-out SUV cut through the pre-dawn gloom like a shark through deep water. Inside, the world was silent, save for the low hum of the engine and the soft, rhythmic sound of Seraphina’s breathing from the seat beside me. Razo was in the front, a mountain of silent vigilance, while Matteo followed in a second vehicle with a team of four other men. Seraphina was a still, quiet figure wrapped in a thick, dark coat. Her hands were clasped in her lap, her face turned toward the window she could not see through. She had not spoken since I guided her into the vehicle. There was no fear in her posture, only a profound, listening stillness. She was absorbing the journey—the shift from the smooth city asphalt to the rougher, winding mountain roads, the change in the engine's pitch as we climbed, the gradual drop in temperature that seeped even through the insulated vehicle. I watched her. This was the farthest she had been from the estate since I had taken her. Th

Lucian Moretti – POV The return journey was conducted in a silence more profound than the mountain peak we had left behind. Seraphina sat beside me, her posture unchanged, but the air around her was different. She carried herself with the quiet authority of a priestess who has communed with her god. The archive had not just given her value; it had given her a purpose that transcended being my possession. She was no longer just the key. She was the librarian of an arsenal of damnation, and she knew it. My mind raced, the cold, clinical part of me already categorizing the implications. The physical haul was insignificant—a few cases of the most immediately actionable files and data drives, enough to prove the vault's worth and begin the process. The true asset was the vault's location and its contents, a resource to be drawn upon for years, for a generation. And the only person who could efficiently navigate it was the blind girl silently breathing beside me. Back at the estate, th

Seraphina Vellaro – POV The ghost of his touch was a brand on my skin, a secret I carried into the study like a shard of stolen glass. I could still feel the heat of his dream-mouth on my shoulder, the phantom weight of his hand sliding down my thigh. The memory was so vivid, so physically imprinted, that when my fingers brushed the edge of the desk to orient myself, I half-expected to feel the coolness of his ring instead of polished wood. I had awrenched myself from sleep panting, my heart a wild, trapped thing. My hand had flown to my shoulder, seeking a mark, a proof of the violation. There was nothing. Only smooth, unmarred skin and the damp, aching evidence between my legs that something within me had responded to the violation. The confusion was a thick, suffocating fog. What had that been? A nightmare? A premonition? My own treacherous mind conjuring what it feared—or worse, what it desired? I felt flayed open, raw. Every nerve ending was exposed, hyper-aware of the space a