All Chapters of Sinful desire : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Chap 12The tension beneath the table vanished the moment Archie pulled his leg back. I kept my phone clutched tightly in my palm, his warning message burning into my mind.Don't look at me. He's watching.I forced myself to stare straight ahead at the empty space between the flower arrangements. I could still feel the phantom heat of his touch against my inner thigh, a stark contrast to the cold, suffocating weight of the heavy villa ballroom.Matthew didn't seem to notice. He was still laughing and chatting with the boss from Genoa, his fingers tapping a rhythmic, arrogant beat against the stem of his scotch glass."The main lounge is opening for drinks," Matthew announced, pushing his chair back from the table. The chair scraped loudly on the floor. "Let's move. There are more people I need to see."The guests around the table stood up immediately, following his lead. I smoothed down the fabric of my dress, ensuring the silk covered the bruises Matthew had left on my skin days befo

"Get the doctor! Now!"Matthew's voice roared. The sound was deafening. His face was twisted in a mixture of pure rage and shock. He looked at his bleeding son on the floor, then his eyes instantly snapped to me.I was still on my knees, my hands entirely covered in Archie's blood. My heart was thumping so hard against my ribs I could barely breathe. The remaining guards rushed past us, their heavy boots pounding against the floor as they ran out into the rainy courtyard to chase the shooters, but the villa gates were already empty.Matthew stepped closer, standing directly over us. His breathing was heavy, his hand still gripping his weapon. He didn't bend down to help his son up immediately. Instead, his cold, calculating gaze lingered on the position of our bodies on the floor. He looked at how closely Archie had thrown himself over me."Why did you jump, Archie?" Matthew asked. His voice was dangerously quiet now, dropping into a freezing, low rhythm. "You are my soldier. My blood.

My shoulder blades pressed into the hard wall, the rough texture scraping through the thin cotton of my blouse. Matthew leaned closer to me. His presence was a heavy, suffocating heat, thick with the scent of expensive tobacco and the sharp, sour musk of anger.“All because of you, I am going to this operation myself,” Matthew said. His voice wasn’t a roar; it was a low, gravelly vibration that rattled through my teeth.Before I could pull away, his thick fingers clamped around my jaw. The pressure was intense, forcing my head up as his thumb gripped the firm line of my chin.“It was supposed to be supervised by my son,” Matthew whispered, his breath hot and smelling of black coffee against my nose. “Now he is shot. Because of your utter stupidity. Because of you.”I tried to swallow, but the tight grip made it impossible to speak. A single tear slipped from the corner of my left eye, tracking a hot, wet path down my cheek until it hit Matthew’s thumb. He didn’t soften. Instead, he le

The front doors opened, and I was pushed into a massive, warm entrance hall. The floor was polished marble, reflecting the bright light of a golden chandelier. Matthew stood at the top of a small flight of stairs, wearing a silk robe, a glass of amber whiskey in his hand. He looked down at me as I stood there, dripping wet, shivering violently, a puddle of dirty rainwater pooling around my sneakers.“You are really stubborn and feisty, huh?” Matthew said, taking a slow sip of his drink.I dropped to my knees right there on the cold marble.“Sir, please help me,” I sobbed, my voice echoing in the vast space. “My brother has barely forty-eight hours to live. I will do anything you want me to do. Anything. Just pay for the surgery. Please, sir.”Matthew didn’t answer right away. He walked down the stairs slowly, the soft leather of his slippers making no sound at all. He stopped right in front of me, the rich, bitter scent of whiskey and expensive cologne washing over my damp face.He re

The silence inside the mansion did not feel soft. It felt heavy, like something pressing over my mouth. Two days had passed since the door slammed shut between Archie and me. In those forty-eight hours, the silence inside the house only grew louder.Every tick of the clock downstairs sounded like a hammer striking metal. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.I walked through the long corridors, my satin slippers making almost no sound against the rugs. The house was too large. It was a fortress of marble, gold, and cold stone, and without Archie’s sharp, dangerous presence, it felt completely empty.I hadn’t seen him since I pushed him out of my bedroom. I had told him to stay away. I had told him I hated him. I had called him a monster, just like his father.I had gotten exactly what I asked for.But instead of relief, a cold ache had begun to grow beneath my ribs.On the third morning, the silence became too much to bear. I walked down the staircase, my hand sliding along the cold banister. I fel