บททั้งหมดของ His Little Ruin: บทที่ 21 - บทที่ 30

Vito returned with a bottle in hand, uncapped it, and stood close enough that only she could hear him and feel his stiff erection pressing her thighs. “Open your mouth.” Milan’s breath hitched. She hesitated only a second before obeying. He tilted the bottle and let the liquor burn its way down her throat. Antinori. The taste she knew too well. The same drink she ever shared with him. It lit something reckless inside her. Vito pulled the bottle away, his eyes lingering on the alcohol that had poured on her throat. “That’s enough.” Milan laughed, soft at first, then freer. She laughed and smiled happily as her fear dissolved into heat and movement. She stepped onto the dance floor and let the music take her. She had always loved to dance but she had stopped because it didn't fit into her plan in the US. She had won many dance competitions in ICS, and Vito loved to watch her dance. Now swaying her hips to Italian music while glancing at him made her feel wild and aroused.

Vito gave Milan one of his mobile phones when he dropped her off at Angels Den the next morning. He pressed it into her palm and told her to use it when she sensed someone stalking her, or if Antonio ever showed up. Then he added, quietly, “You can call me anytime. Do not hesitate to call me.”Milan nodded and thanked him, her fingers curling around the phone as if it were a lifeline. She opened her mouth, the secret burning on her tongue, the words begging to be released before they poisoned everything.But she stopped herself.He would never find out… not if she didn’t tell him. And Andrea had promised to keep her secret safe.“Do you have something you want to say to me?” Vito asked.He hated that he’d asked. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t care about her or even look at her again. Not when every glance stripped away his control. But the pull was stronger than reason.Milan shook her head. “No.”Then, asked softly, “See you soon?”Vito didn’

Mateo braced himself, his voice tinged with dread. “I didn’t know you were coming.” Vito’s sharp gaze flicked past him, straight to Milan’s door. His face grew stony as he calculated that he must have come from there, but his voice remained calm, making the air feel thinner. “Do I need to inform you before coming?” Mateo felt a chill run down his spine. He hesitated before he spoke the truth that he had no reason to hide from his boss. “She’s been sick.” Vito’s violet eyes darkened. “I know.” That was all he said before walking past Bang. Mateo stood there, unease crawling up his spine. He couldn't bring himself to go to his room, which was doors away, so he went back to Milan’s room to find out what was happening. Vito quietly entered Milan’s room. She was asleep. Her face was pale against the pillow, and her long lashes fluttered as she struggled to find rest. She looked unwell at first glance, which made his heart tighten with concern. Her hand rested protectively on her sto

Vito’s insistence on protection felt increasingly like a stifling lie. It was like a cloak wrapped so tightly it threatened to suffocate Milan. If Giovanni’s mansion had been a loud, gaudy display of dominance with gilded furniture and ostentatious decor, this house was its silent, predatory twin, dark, foreboding, and unsettling. Milan preferred Angels Den because there, she didn't have to worry about her secret slipping out or being exposed. “Did you tell Vito about my pregnancy?” She had asked Andrea when she woke up here, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to keep calm.The doctor responded calmly, “Of course not. I only told him you were sick. Please understand, I have to be honest with him. You're a patient entrusted to me, and I have a duty to report accurately.” Last night, Mateo had contacted her, his voice soft and hesitant. He asked what her plans were now that she was living in Vito’s house. He mentioned that rumors about them dating would sound far-fetched if t

The apron felt like a leash. Vito wanted to shred it, follow them into the night, and show Mateo exactly how violent his claim over Milan truly was. The sharp vibration of his phone against the mahogany table shattered the moment of silence. He instinctively looked down, expecting a routine report from his security detail about Milan's location. But when he saw the name on the screen, Kathleen Dinar, an icy shiver ran down his spine. He signaled to Andrea to leave the room. She nodded and slipped into her room, instinctively sensing the shift in the room's atmosphere. Vito answered the call, his voice cold and devoid of warmth. “Kathleen.” “Vito,” her refined British accent flowed smoothly, carrying a tone that was both charming and subtly menacing, with a trace of sarcasm that hinted at underlying threats. “I hear things are becoming quite crowded in Milan. I trust you’re diligently keeping your people safe? I’m monitoring Antonio Rocci’s movements closely. I called to