บททั้งหมดของ A Pucking Lesson in Forbidden : บทที่ 81 - บทที่ 87

Dahlia’s POVI stepped out of the car, the cool evening breeze catching the edge of my fitted black jumpsuit.My breath caught in my throat. The park was massive, an endless maze of dazzling yellow fairy lights, glowing archways, and a towering Ferris wheel that painted soft pastels onto the dark sky.Yet, the usual deafening roar of laughter, screeching children, and chaotic crowds was entirely absent. The silence was eerie, beautiful, and utterly surreal.I turned my head slowly, taking in the empty walkways, the unmanned game booths, the silent concession stands.He shut down an entire amusement park just for a casual night walk…A strange realization settled in my chest. Up until now, Alexander had felt like a distant, polite shadow—a polished boy playing political games. But seeing this, feeling the weight of effortless influence, made reality slam into me. He wasn't just a wealthy rival flirting with societal standing; he was on the exact same ruthless, untouchable tier as Vince

Dahlia’s POVThe warm leather of the passenger seat wrapped around me, but my heart was pounding too fast. A frantic, terrified rhythm against my ribs.Through the tinted glass my eyes stayed on the side mirror. One solitary headlight was behind us. It kept a steady, ominous distance through the dark turns. The heavy frame of the motorcycle and the silhouette behind the handlebars were unmistakable.Vincent.He hadn't stayed behind. He was following us through the night.Alexander’s eyes moved up to the rearview mirror as his jaw tightened. The easy air he’d had all night went cold."Dahlia," Alexander said quietly. His voice had a dangerous edge. "That bike has been behind us since we left the park gates. Isn't that your stepbrother's motorcycle?"Panic hit me like a fist. It knocked the air out of my lungs."I... I'm not sure," I stammered. My fingers twisted together in my lap. I tried to keep my voice from shaking. "It's dark, Alexander. It could be anyone.""It's him," Alexander

Vincent’s POVThe wet, ragged sound of her moans cut through the cold night air. It sliced straight through the hum of my idling bike.I couldn't look away. I couldn't move. My fingers were locked on the rubber handlebars so hard the white gauze over my split knuckles tore open. Hot blood soaked back into the cloth.Then the glass slid down.Dahlia arched her back. Her bare, flushed skin caught the dim yellow light of the streetlamp as the peak hit her. Her eyes snapped open and locked right on mine across the strip of asphalt. She didn't hide. She made sure I saw every inch of her with Alexander Black.Something in my chest ripped. The last living muscle tore out and left a cold, hollow space where my soul used to be.I didn't scream. I didn't rev the engine. I kicked the bike into gear, twisted the throttle, and tore away into the black night. I left her moans buried in the exhaust.I drove with no direction until the neon sign of The Iron Den bled through the fog. South side. A fil