All Chapters of Owned By The King Of Blackwood (De Luca Series): Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The library at night felt completely different from how it did during the day. By day, it was full of peaple and studying, at night, it became beautiful.I checked my phone before I pushed through the heavy revolving door. It was 7:02 PM.No messages from Nico or threats from Matteo.I felt like a teenager sneaking out to meet a boy, except the risks weren’t being grounded, they were broken bones.I entered the lobby, the main lights were dimmed. A few students sat at the long tables, their faces glowing with the light from their laptop screens.I scanned the room.Julian waited by the information desk. He had taken off his suit jacket and wore a soft cream-colored sweater and glasses. The glasses made him look older and studious.When he saw me, he removed the glasses and shoved them into his pocket, his face brightened."You came," he said as he walked over."I said I would," I replied, glancing over my shoulder. "But we can’t stay here, It’s too open.""I know," Julian answered, lo

I woke up to his scent, for a disoriented second, I thought I was back in the Archives with Julian, pinned against the bookshelves. But the mattress was too soft and the sheets too silky for that.I opened my eyes, the dawn's gray light filled the room. I was in a large bed with black sheets—Nico's bed.Memories crashed over me like a wave, the library, the drive, how he had torn my tights, how I had screamed his name.I sat up, gasping and clutching the silk sheet to my chest. I was alone, the other side of the bed was made, and the pillow lay untouched, he hadn't slept beside me.Nico had taken what he wanted my submission, my pleasure, my dignity, then he left me in his bed like a discarded trophy.I looked down at myself, my gray skirt twisted around my waist, my tights hung in shreds from my legs like spiderwebs, my inner thighs felt sticky and sore."Oh god," I whispered as I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes.I had come apart for him and begged him. “You fit in better

The De Luca stronghold in New York wasn't a brownstone or a townhouse, it was a glass and steel fortress towering in the sky.Nico drove the Aston Martin into a private freight elevator that opened right on the street level. We didn't even have to leave the car, the metal gates clanged shut behind us, blocking out the sun, and the platform started to rise.This kinda money is scary, I thought When the elevator finally stopped and the doors slid open, we were no longer in a garage now we were in the living room.I stepped out of the car, on the polished concrete floors. The space was vast, an industrial loft turned into a billionaire's hideout. Three walls of floor-to-ceiling glass gave us a breathtaking view of the city that felt almost unreal.OMG, this is insanely beautiful But it was cold. The air conditioning hummed at a low, freezing frequency, and the black leather furniture looked untouched."Don't get comfortable," Nico said as he grabbed his bag from the trunk. "We won't b

Nico’s Point of ViewFear has a smell.It rolled off Tony Rossi in waves, filling the pressurized cabin of the Gulfstream until it drowned out the scent of leather and fresh lilies on the table.I stood in the aisle, blocking the exit, and watching the Rat crumble.He was pathetic, it was almost insulting that he had stolen five million dollars from my family. He sweated through his linen shirt, his hands shook so badly that the ice in his glass rattled.But I wasn’t looking at him, not really.I was looking at Elena.She stood beside me, her shoulder brushing against mine. She wore a thin white camisole that provided no protection against the cold wind coming through the open door, but she wasn't shivering anymore.Her face was like porcelain, cold and expressionless. Her eyes, usually so lively, seemed lifeless.I felt a twisted pride coil in my gut.I did that, I thought, I took the frightened little mouse from the library and transformed her into this.Most women would be screamin

The drive back to Blackwood University felt different from the drive to the city.There was no speeding. Nico drove with one hand on the wheel, while his other hand rested casually on my thigh.We left the penthouse at dawn. Nico burned the clothes I wore yesterday—my torn camisole and travel-stained trousers. He handed me a black dress from a closet I hadn’t known existed in the loft. It was wool, long-sleeved, high-necked, and fitted like a second skin.I looked like a widow.As the familiar iron gates of the university appeared in the distance, rising out of the mist like a gothic entrance, my stomach lurched unexpectedly."Nervous?" Nico asked, his thumb tracing circles on my leg."No," I lied."Good, you have nothing to be nervous about. The faculty has been dealt with.The Dean thinks you had a family emergency. Your uncle has been transferred to a facility upstate, he won’t be bothering anyone.""And the students?" I asked. "They think I’m a rat.""They think you are dangerous,