All Chapters of His Sinful Empire : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Nico was waiting outside the examination room, cleaned up now, his own injuries bandaged, a fresh bruise blooming along his jaw. He looked tired, worn down, something dark in his eyes when he looked at me. “Come on,” he said quietly, his voice flat. “Waiting area is upstairs.” We took the elevator in silence, the air between us heavy with everything unsaid. I could feel him watching me from the corner of his eye, could feel the tension radiating off him, but I didn’t have the energy to ask what was wrong, didn’t have space in my head for anything except the image of Enzo collapsing in my arms. The waiting area was comfortable but clinical, windows overlooking the compound grounds. I sat on one of the leather couches, my hands still shaking, still stained with dried blood despite Dr. White cleaning them. Enzo’s blood. Nico didn’t sit beside me, chose a chair across the room instead, putting distance between us. He leaned back, winced at the movement, his hand going to his ribs.

Enzo’s hand tightened on mine. “Get out.” “Enzo, no—” I turned to him. “He was trying to help me, he got beaten trying to protect me—” “And he nearly got you killed.” Enzo’s eyes never left Nico. “If you’d kept her at the estate like I ordered, none of this would have happened.” “If you’d treated her like a human being instead of property, she wouldn’t have wanted to leave in the first place!” Nico shot back. “Stop it!” I stood up, putting myself between them. “Both of you, just stop. Nico, you were trying to help and I’m grateful for that. Enzo, he didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Can we please just… can we not do this right now? You just woke up, you’re still recovering—” “Nina, move.” Enzo’s voice was commanding. “No.” “Move. This is between me and him.” “It’s between all of us!” I looked at both of them, frustrated, exhausted. “You’re brothers. Family. And you’re both acting like… like—” I couldn’t find the words. Nico looked at me, something painful in his

ENZO’s POV I watched her walk to the bathroom, naked, her body still marked from the passionate moment we just had, the slight limp in her step evidence of what I’d taken. Nina Nyx Santoro. Marco Santoro’s daughter. The daughter of the man who killed my mother, now thoroughly claimed, completely mine in the most primal way possible. I should feel victorious. Vindicated. This was the ultimate revenge, wasn’t it? Taking his daughter’s virginity, making her mine, destroying her innocence the way her father destroyed my family. But all I felt was the need for more. She’d moaned my name. Begged for me. Looked at me like I was everything while I buried myself inside her. And now I wanted her again, the hunger not sated, just intensified, sharpened by the taste of having her. This was dangerous. This obsession that went beyond revenge, beyond strategy, beyond anything rational. I should be planning my next move on Santoro’s whereabouts, using this connection to his daughter to gath

GIULIA's POV The gallery was quiet, empty except for the faint echo of my footsteps on the polished marble floor. I stood in front of the latest piece I’d acquired, a haunting abstract of a mother and child, and felt my chest constrict painfully. Three days. It had been three days since the hospital. Since the cramping wouldn’t stop. Since the blood. Since the doctor’s apologetic voice was telling me what I already knew. 'I’m sorry, Miss Santini. There’s no heartbeat. The miscarriage was complete. There was nothing we could do.' My hand went to my stomach unconsciously, flat now, empty, the life that had been growing there for eight weeks just… gone. I hadn’t told anyone. Not my brothers. Not my father’s family. Except my friend Anne who conforted me with words and definitely keeps my secret. But definitely not Dimitri. Especially not Dimitri. The memory of our fight four days ago still burned. The words we’d thrown at each other like weapons. The way he’d looked at me with suc

“Is it working?” He moved fast, hands on my hips, pulling me against him, his mouth crashing onto mine, demanding, possessive. I kissed him back just as desperately, my hands already working at his belt, at the buttons of his shirt. “We’re on a plane,” he murmured against my lips. “I know.” “Hope you’re not concerned about the crew—” “Can’t see through curtains.” I pushed his jacket off his shoulders, worked his shirt free. “Unless you’re afraid of getting caught?” Something dark and hungry flashed across his face. “They should be scared.” “Then sit down.” He raised an eyebrow but obeyed, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread, watching me with that predatory intensity. I knelt between his legs, my hands on his thighs, looking up at him. “Baby girl—” I didn’t let him finish, just leaned forward, took him in my mouth, heard his sharp intake of breath, felt his hand immediately go to my hair, gripping, guiding. I’d learned what he liked over the past three mon