Lahat ng Kabanata ng Make Me Yours (A Romantic Collection): Kabanata 191 - Kabanata 200

Chapter 2The limousine comes to a stop in front of a sleek, unmarked building, no signage, no windows, just a single black door flanked by two towering men in tailored suits. Their expressions are impassive, but their postures scream security. The driver steps out, opening my door before I can even reach for the handle. My fingers tighten around the clutch in my lap, the red silk of the dress Alexander insisted on clinging to my thighs like a second skin. I hate that I bought it. I hate that I like how it feels.The dress is a lot , low-cut, backless, the fabric so thin I can feel the cool evening air teasing my nipples into tight, aching peaks. I didn’t wear a bra. I didn’t wear panties. Some rebellious part of me wanted to see if he’d notice, if he’d react. The thought sends a traitorous pulse of heat between my legs, and I press my thighs together as I step onto the curb.One of the guards nods at me, his gaze flickering over my body with professional detachment before he pushe

Chapter 4The lights flicker violently, plunging the room into strobing darkness before snapping back on with a sharp, electric hum. My pulse spikes, my bare skin prickling against the cold vinyl of the operating table. Alexander’s grip on my throat tightens for a split second, his body rigid, every muscle coiled like a spring ready to snap. Then, just as suddenly, his fingers loosen. His breath comes sharp, his chest rising and falling against mine as he twists his head toward the doorway.But the doorway is empty.My eyes dart to the floor, and there it is: a scalpel, its blade glinting under the fluorescent lights, the handle still warm from a grip that wasn’t ours. Alexander exhales through his nose, a sound that’s half-laugh, half-growl, before he lets me go. The loss of his heat is immediate, my skin pebbling as the cool air rushes between us. He steps off the table, his cock still half-hard, glistening with me, as he snatches a discarded lab coat from a nearby chair and wrap

Chapter 1The neon glow of Obsidian, the club where I’ve spent the last six months slinging overpriced cocktails in heels that make my feet scream, pulses against the damp pavement as I step outside. The night air is thick with the scent of rain and cigarette smoke, the bassline from inside still thrumming in my ribs. My tips tonight were shit. Again. Rent is due in three days, and the numbers in my bank account are laughing at me.I tug my denim jacket tighter around my shoulders, the fabric clinging to the thin, sweat-damp tank top underneath. The outfit was supposed to be sexy, black lace bralette peeking out just enough to earn extra tips….but now, at 2:17 a.m., it just makes me feel exposed. The alley behind the club is empty except for the flicker of a dying streetlamp. Then I hear it, the scuff of shoes on wet concrete. They sound way too close.I turn, heart already hammering, and there he is: a guy in a hoodie with his face half-hidden, My breath hitches. I’ve taken self

Chapter 3His scent still clings to me, It’s leather and spice. My fingers tremble as I clutch the fabric tighter, pressing my nose into the collar. Fuck, I can still taste him on my lips, feel the ghost of his hands gripping my waist, his thumb dragging over my bottom lip like he owned it.I should take this off. I should hang it up, step back, breathe. But I don’t.Instead, my fingers slide along the inner lining, tracing the stitching. There’s something there, a slight bulge, an unevenness beneath the silk. My pulse kicks up as I press harder, nails digging in. It’s a hidden compartment. I peel back the fabric, careful not to tear it, and my breath catches. A folded note, crisp and white, tucked into a slim leather sleeve. My fingers shake as I pull it free, unfolding it under the dim glow of my kitchen light. The handwriting is sharp, precise, all capital letters like a demand rather than a message:"IF YOU’RE READING THIS, THE RUNAWAY SOLDIER IS DEAD."My stomach twists. Wha

Chapter 5The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the ache… It was deep, throbbing, a reminder of every place Antonio had touched, bitten, or bruised. My body felt like it had been bent, broken, and reshaped to fit his will. The sheets beneath me were cool silk, unfamiliar against my bare skin.I groaned as I shifted, the soreness between my thighs flaring with the movement. My wrists still had the faint imprint of his fingers where he’d pinned me down, and when I ran my tongue over my lower lip, I could taste the metallic tang of blood from where he’d bitten me.The room was huge, Heavy velvet drapes blocked most of the morning light, but what slipped through painted gold across the dark wood furniture, the plush rugs, the paintings of half-naked women with hollow eyes. This wasn’t my apartment. This wasn’t anywhere I recognized. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, he’d taken me somewhere else While I was still half-conscious from the way he’d fucked me into submis