Lahat ng Kabanata ng Midnight Cravings: A Forbidden collection : Kabanata 271 - Kabanata 280

The mansion was enormous — marble floors, towering ceilings, and rooms that seemed to go on forever.I had just turned 20 and desperately needed this job. My family was struggling, and being hired as the new live-in housekeeper for the reclusive billionaire Klaus Voss was a lifeline.On my first day, I wore the simple black uniform provided: a fitted dress that reached mid-thigh with a white apron. It was modest, but as I moved through the house dusting and cleaning, I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.Klaus Voss rarely left his private wing, but today he was in the grand library when I entered to dust the shelves.He was 38, tall and powerfully built, with sharp features, dark hair, and piercing grey eyes that seemed to cut right through me. He sat at a large oak desk, reviewing documents, exuding quiet dominance.“Miss Sabrina,” he said without looking up, voice deep and smooth. “You’re the new housekeeper. My instructions are simple: clean thoroughly, respect my privacy,

The corporate office tower was almost empty at 9:45 PM.I stood outside Klaus Reinhardt’s private office on the top floor, clutching a thick folder of revised reports. At 20 years old and fresh out of my first year of college, landing this unpaid internship at Reinhardt Enterprises was a huge opportunity — even if it meant working late nights for the ruthless CEO himself.I knocked softly.“Come in.”I stepped inside. The office was dimly lit, with floor-to-ceiling windows showing the glittering city skyline. Klaus Reinhardt sat behind his massive desk, reviewing documents, his sleeves rolled up to reveal powerful forearms.He was 38, tall, broad-shouldered, and intimidatingly handsome in a cold, commanding way. Dark hair with a hint of silver at the temples, sharp jaw, and piercing grey eyes that always seemed to see too much.“Miss Elara,” he said without looking up, voice deep and authoritative. “You’re here with the revised Q3 projections?”“Yes, Mr. Reinhardt,” I replied, trying

The VIP fitting room in the exclusive luxury boutique was quiet and intimate — soft lighting, mirrored walls on three sides, and a plush velvet chaise in the corner.Sabrina stood in the center, tablet in hand, trying to stay professional.At 20 years old, she was one of the youngest personal shoppers at the boutique, and landing a private session with Klaus Reinhardt — the ruthless 38-year-old billionaire known for his impeccable taste and even more impeccable reputation — was a huge opportunity.Klaus stood in the center of the room in a half-finished bespoke suit, the tailor having just stepped out for adjustments.He was tall, broad-shouldered, and commanding, with sharp features, dark hair, and piercing grey eyes that seemed to see right through her.“Miss Sabrina,” he said, voice deep and smooth. “You’re here to ensure everything fits perfectly for the gala. Let’s begin.”She nodded, stepping closer to adjust the lapel of his jacket.As she reached up, her fingers brushed his ch

The late-night private viewing was scheduled for 9:30 PM — a special appointment for an exclusive new collection.Sabrina arrived at the boutique wearing a sleek black slip dress that clung to her body like a second skin, the thin straps barely holding it up. No bra. No panties. Her hair was loose and slightly tousled.Klaus was already waiting in the dimly lit VIP room, the space filled with carefully arranged racks of luxury pieces and soft ambient lighting.The moment she stepped inside and closed the door, the air thickened with raw tension.“You’re getting bolder with every appointment,” he said, voice low and rough. “That dress is barely there.”She smiled and walked straight to the center of the room, turning slowly so the fabric shifted against her curves.“Maybe I wanted you to see everything tonight, Mr. Reinhardt,” she whispered.They started with the new collection — silk blouses, tailored trousers, and delicate lingerie pieces.But the “viewing” quickly turned into seduct

The secluded countryside estate was quiet except for the soft rustle of wind through the trees.Elara stood in the center of the large, sunlit studio, sketchbook in hand, trying to steady her nerves. At 20 years old, being accepted as the private apprentice to the reclusive artist Klaus was a dream come true — and a little terrifying.Klaus was 38, tall and powerfully built, with sharp features, dark hair, and piercing grey eyes that seemed to see straight into her soul. He moved with quiet intensity as he set up the easel and canvas.“Miss Elara,” he said, voice deep and smooth. “We’ll start with basic composition and light study today. I expect focus and honesty in your work. Are you ready?”She nodded, her heart racing as he stepped closer to adjust her stance.He placed one hand on her shoulder and the other on her waist, correcting her posture for the live sketching exercise.“Relax your shoulders,” he murmured, his touch firm but gentle. “Feel the connection between your body an