Lahat ng Kabanata ng When Desire Becomes A Sin : Kabanata 111 - Kabanata 120

RAFAEL POV I gave her space. Not because I wanted to. Not because I believed she needed it. But because if I didn’t I would’ve gone after her that same night and dragged her back into something she clearly wasn’t ready to face. And for the first time in a long time I held back. It was unfamiliar. Uncomfortable. Wrong. Three days turned into five. Five into seven. And every single one of them felt longer than it should have. Because she was still there. In my head. In the silence. In the pauses between everything that used to feel routine. Annoying. Persistent. Unavoidable. I was in the middle of a meeting when I finally stopped pretending this was something I could ignore. “…Sir?” My assistant’s voice pulled me back, but only halfway. My gaze drifted to the glass wall beside me, my reflection staring back calm, composed, unaffected. A lie. I exhaled slowly. “Reschedule the rest,” I said, already standing. “Sir, you have—” “I said reschedule.” No room for

RAFAEL POV Weeks had passed. Weeks since the morning she had stayed, when she chose to trust me despite everything. Since that day, life had felt… different. Easier in some ways, more complicated in others. Not because she made it complicated, but because she made me notice things I had long ignored small moments, subtle gestures, soft glances, quiet laughter. And it had taken all of me to keep my composure, to act casual, to not let her see how completely she had burrowed under my skin. I watched her now, sitting on the couch, scrolling through her phone with a faint smile, hair tumbling across her face, sun slanting over the edges of the room. I could feel it the same pull, the sharp edge of wanting, the ache of knowing she was here and she was mine. I stepped closer, coffee in hand, letting my eyes follow her without looking obvious. She didn’t notice me at first, humming softly to herself, lost in whatever it was she was reading. “Rafael,” she called suddenly, looking up,

Sapphire POV I traced the circle of the ring on my finger, letting my thumb slide over the cool gold that Rafael had carefully chosen. Every time I looked at it, a wave of warmth flooded me mixed with the kind of nerves that never quite disappeared, even after the proposal, even after weeks of blissful intimacy and laughter. It wasn’t the first time Rafael had met my parents. Not by a long shot. Our college days had been a tapestry of introductions, casual dinners, and hesitant but genuine conversations. Back then, he had been persistent in proving himself not only to me but to my parents especially after we had drifted apart for a time. I remembered it clearly him standing at our door, hat in hand, humbly asking, pleading almost, for a chance to see me, to explain, to show he had changed. My parents had been wary, of course, protective as any parent would be. And yet… they had seen something in him even then: sincerity, determination, and a respect for me that made my hea

The moment the doors of our suite closed behind us, it felt like the world outside ceased to exist. The soft hum of the ocean whispered against the glass, the faint scent of jasmine drifting from the balcony, and the gentle sway of palm trees under the moonlight painted the perfect backdrop. Rafael dropped his suit jacket, brushing off the last crease from the long day, and turned to me. His gaze intense, unwavering, familiar held me captive. “You realize,” he murmured, stepping closer, “we’re finally alone?” I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening. “I’ve been waiting for this… for us,” I whispered, letting a shiver run down my spine. A slow, predatory smile tugged at his lips. “Me too,” he said softly, closing the gap between us, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from my face. Our lips met in a gentle kiss, exploratory. I felt the heat building immediately, the familiar ache of desire simmering under years of knowing each other, teasing each other, loving each othe

RAFAEL POV The morning sun hadn’t fully broken over the horizon, but the suite was already warm with its first light. I watched her sleep, her hair spilled across the pillow in a messy halo, lips parted slightly, chest rising and falling in rhythm with her quiet breath. She looked too soft, too perfect to belong only to me but I knew she did. All of her belonged to me, just as I belonged to her. A week into our honeymoon, and I could still feel the fire she ignited in me with every glance, every movement, every whisper. A week, and I hadn’t let a single moment pass without pressing her against me, exploring her, claiming her, reminding her and myself that nothing in the world would ever change that. I slid from the bed, careful not to wake her, though I was certain she wouldn’t stay asleep long. She never did when I was near. Her warmth lingered even as I moved toward the bathroom, the sound of her soft sigh echoing in my chest. The idea of letting her be alone for a simp