Todos los capítulos de Tempting The Devil’s Son: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

Roman’s POVThe laser sights from the catwalks above rested in a silent red cluster over the chest of my suit, but my pulse didn't even shift.I looked past Alberto’s smug face, straight toward the black shadows at the far rear of the warehouse.Every single one of Alberto’s men had their weapons locked onto me and Lanci. Their focus was so fixated on us, so arrogant in their trap, that they completely ignored their own rear blind spots.Lanci caught the movement a second later. His eyes flicked subtly past my shoulder toward the dark loading bays at the back, noticing the faint, ghost-like shifts in the gloom. He didn't say a word or make a move, he just held his ground, his hand resting near his coat, watching my elite squad silently close the net."You really brought a whole theatrical production just to hand me a mess you created," I said softly."It’s not a mess, Capo," Lucia hissed, her hand hovering over the digital tablet screen. "It’s a checkmate. One touch of this screen, a

Roman’s POV"Do you want to die, Miss Vance?"My voice was too calm for the room. Too low. I didn't raise it. I didn't need to.She glared up at me from the mattress. Her shoulders shook. Cold air from the balcony still clung to her skin, but her eyes burned with a dark, foolish fire."I’m alive, ain’t I?" she spat out.I leaned down an inch closer. My hands remained flat against the mattress on either side of her hips."Oh, you wouldn’t be if you had fallen off that balcony," I said softly. "And if I wasn’t there on time to save you."I held her wild, terrified gaze. I wanted her to see the reality of her choices. She thought she was a hero in a movie. She thought courage was enough to defeat gravity and hard concrete."See?" I added, my tone smooth, almost gentle. "I’m not the devil here.""Oh, yes you are," she hissed. Her chest heaved beneath the thin, gaping white shirt. "And just so you know, my father already knows I’m missing.”“He will stop at nothing to find me.""And what i

Gianna’s POVHis hand was around my throat.Not tight enough to choke me. Just firm enough to pin me against the cold leather. Just heavy enough to remind me who owned my air.My legs were split wide open over his shoulders.The rear windows were pitch black, heavily tinted against the bright morning light. But we were parked right in the center of my father’s compound.Right outside my family home.If my father drove in right now, he would see this car. If my Vivianne looked through the second-floor window, she would see the black car swaying rhythmically on its tires.What would they think of me?I hadn't even found the courage to tell my parents the engagement with Dario was officially over. And here I was, getting wrecked in the backseat of a car by my ex-fiancé’s older brother.The scandal would destroy me. It would destroy my family.And I loved every single second of it."Quiet," Roman growled against my ear. His teeth nipped the sensitive skin of my neck. "You want your father

Gianna’s POVThe dominance in his tone sent a rush of heat straight down to my core. Being controlled by him, being claimed like this, turned me on in a way that terrified me. He owned my body. He owned my pleasure. He dictated when I got to feel relief and when I had to burn."But how will you know if I do?" I murmured, my voice trembling slightly.Roman tilted his head, his eyes burning into mine. "Try me," he said smoothly.I swallowed hard, my fingers clutching the fabric of his oversized shirt. "This is your last punishment.I raised an eyebrow. "That’s all? A toy?""You need more?" “Maybe” I replied oblivious to what I was asking for."Get past this first," Roman murmured, his fingers tracing a slow line up my thighs. "And let’s see."He loosened his grip on me, straightening his posture and adjusting the cuffs of his suit. The sharp, controlled man was back, as if he hadn't just ruined me in the backseat of his car."I’ll tell you when to come over," he said, checking his wa

Gianna’s POVHe was sitting in his office, or his car, or wherever the hell he was, casually tapping a button and pushing me to the edge from miles away. He was playing with my mind. He was orchestrating my agony without even touching me.My hands flew to the show of my dress. Take it off. Pull the cord. Stop the madness.The thought screamed through my head, but my fingers froze.Do not touch it.His cold, possessive command echoed in my mind like a law. If I took it off, if I disobeyed him, the punishment would be far worse than this torturous pleasure.And the terrifying truth? I didn't actually want to stop it.It was making me insane. It was making me desperate. I wanted him. I needed his hands on me, his weight crushing me into a mattress, his mouth silencing the shameless sounds pouring out of me. He wasn't here to claim what he was breaking, and the distance was driving me mad.I pulled out my phone with shaking fingers.I checked our chat. The photo I had sent him earlier