Todos los capítulos de The Seven Heats: Capítulo 21 - Capítulo 30

3 rd person pov“You’re really heartless. The girl trusted you, asshole.”Ray flipped through the notes before peeling off Derek’s share of the money. He took them from her fingers without even looking, a cigarette dangling lazily between his lips.His eyes narrowed.“Stop with this guilt-trip bullshit. You know it’s useless. I’ve done it more times than I can count to care.”Ray smirked.Then she leaned closer, sliding her arms around his neck until there was barely any space left between them.“No. But seriously… this one was different.” Her voice dropped into something almost thoughtful. “How is someone like her even alive? Why haven’t the big bad wolves eaten her alive by now?”Derek raised a brow, looking down at her.“They will now.”A slow smile curved his mouth.“A feast. That’s what that fucker is going to have.”He chuckled beneath his breath, shaking his head.“Damn. I think I asked for too little. If I’d asked for a thousand more, he probably would’ve agreed.”“He really w

I wait.I wait for the inevitable—for his touch, for those dark, intoxicating sparks. My body yearns for it like a dying wanderer craves water, and I feel nothing but deep disgust at myself.Whatever poison they poured into my blood... this isn’t me. It has reduced me to nothing more than a creature in heat, driven by forced desire, and the worst part is that I can’t stop it.He may have ripped away the blindfold, but I refuse to look. My eyes remain squeezed shut. My fists clench and unclench beneath the heavy iron restraints.Minutes drag by in suffocating silence.I brace for his cruel words to come true, yet nothing happens.Gulping down the burning dryness in my throat, I slowly peel open my eyes, only to find him still watching me. He leans back casually in his leather chair, taking a slow, deliberate drag of the toxic smoke between his fingers. His long legs are parted wide, trapping mine between them, and I instinctively press my thighs tighter together.I force my gaze away,

I wake up to only find myself on something soft, so soft like silk. When I tried to shift, the brutal bite of leather and metal checked my movement, a tight, unforgiving tug at my wrists.Memories surged back, jagged and violent. The club. The iron-tinged reek of blood. The shadowy play room. Those men. And….. him.My eyes snapped open, fighting the searing glare of a massive crystal chandelier directly overhead. Damn it. Who hung a chandelier to my bedroom? And that’s when I freeze. I look around to have my heart thump in my chest. His… it was his room. And that’s when I felt it…. A stare.A gaze so heavy, so possessive and cold, that it stripped the air right out of my lungs.He sat in the deep shadows of an armchair across the room, leaning back with a glass of amber liquid in his hand. His hooded grey eyes were locked onto me. He wasn't just watching me; he was measuring me like prey.I felt exposed. Utterly, agonizingly naked, despite his oversized white shirt clinging to me.

I woke to the taste of fever on my tongue. For a few seconds, I didn't know where I was. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar. So was the bed beneath me—soft, clean, private. There was a small table beside it, a chair tucked neatly underneath, and a narrow wardrobe against the wall. It was simple. But compared to the place I had been sleeping before, it felt almost luxurious. Then realization struck. This wasn't the servants' quarters. I had been moved. My eyes slowly travelled around the room before stopping at the small door leading to the corridor. The upper chambers. The private servants' wing. And suddenly, his voice came back to me. *From now on, you work as my personal maid.* Of course. I let my head fall back against the pillow. For the next two days, I existed somewhere between fever and nightmares. I would wake sweating, only to slip back into darkness minutes later. Sometimes I dreamed of footsteps outside my door. Sometimes I felt the weight o

I sprinted down the endless marble corridors. By the time I slammed my hands against the heavy oak doors of the meeting hall, my chest was heaving, my breath coming in ragged, bloody rasps.I looked in, and my stomach dropped into a sickening abyss.The room was completely empty. The meeting was long over. Everyone was gone.I was late. Two whole hours late.At the head of the table sat Dominicus. He didn't even look up as I stumbled inside, his piercing gaze fixated on a stack of documents, his jaw clamped so tight a muscle ticked rhythmically in his cheek. I bowed my head until my chin scraped my collarbone.And then without wasting a second I start picking up the papers and cleaning the room. My hands trembled violently as the heavy crystal glasses chattered against the tray. Shit. Was he that mad at me that he wouldn’t even look? Let alone acknowledge my presence.My throat was a raw, open wound. Every time I involuntary gulped air , a scream tore to the back of my mouth but