Novel & Cerita Damian's Rose

I kept my hands folded in my lap as we drove, wondering what I had gotten myself into by agreeing to this. Inside the car, it was quiet for a long time. I finally broke the silence. “Tell me about your family.” Damien’s expression changed right away. “There’s not much to tell.” “I doubt that,” I said. After a pause, he started talking. “My father remarried after my mother died. Victoria is my stepmother. She likes control.” I smiled a little. “That’s your warning?” “No.” He glanced at me briefly. “This is. Answer only what you’re asked. Don’t volunteer information.”

Damian appeared so suddenly and, like a tornado of passion, burst into his room to sweep him into its vortex and spit him out battered. Preparing himself for the scene, Brylski looked at Radosz. The producer, with his arms folded across his chest, was standing near the monitor to which the image from the cameras was transmitted. He was standing literally three steps away from Różycki who was sitting in the director's chair. Radosz lifted his gaze from the monitor and looked at the set, at Brylski... Their eyes touched and Rafał felt a flame in his body. A blush bubbled up on his face. Damian may have been in a relationship with a woman, but what he was doing with Rafal...

Damian looked so handsome like a badass hero from a movie. She broke into a run and threw herself into Damian’s arms. Her heart thumping loudly. In response, Damian wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground, twirling her around. When he placed her down, the two looked deeply into each other’s eyes. Damian grabbed the back of her head and leaned in for a fiery kiss. They kissed each other hard and fast forgetting that they were in the midst of dead people and men with guns. But all that didn’t matter to them. They were back in each other’s arms after all.

On seeing this rose, I just thought about my past. Time stopped. One day, David gave me a rose plant because he knew how much I loved roses. And then he said: "If I gave you a rose, then it would wither in just 2 or 3 days and I would never want that thing, which is the same as the name of my beautiful sister, to become rotten. That's why I brought the whole plant for you. And I know that you take good care of it. And will never let it wither."

His gaze drops to it, then back to me. My voice shakes. “Someone was inside my room.” A muscle ticks in his jaw. He stands slowly, like a predator preparing to strike. “You’re sure?” I nod stiffly. “They left this—” I pointed at the rose, my throat tight. “And they sent me another message.” Damian picks up the flower, twirling it between his fingers, his expression unreadable. Then he turns to me. “Show me.” I hold up my phone. He takes it, scanning the message, his face darkening.

His hair was neat, his face calm, and in his hand, he carried a single red rose. Instantly, Serena froze. Her breath caught inside her throat as her eyes met his for a brief, sharp second. Her hands trembled on the wheelchair handles. She quickly lowered her gaze, trying to hide her face under the mask. Then Damian stepped closer confidently, The soft sound of his shoes echoed lightly against the marble floor. He was only a few steps away from her now, but it was close enough for her to smell the faint scent of his cologne. suddenly, the rose slipped from Damian's hand.

The kiss lasted for some time until Damian eventually pulled away, allowing Celine to breathe deeply. "Good morning, my darling." Damian greeted her, kissing the top of her head. "Good morning, sweetheart…" Celine replied with a smile on her face. "Why did you bring the roses?" "Well, I thought you might like it." Damian said as he took her hand and led her over towards the bed. "But why the flowers, Damian? They're not exactly your type of gift." Celine asked. "Yes they are. Especially for you." Damian insisted before letting go of Celine's hand, prompting Celine to sit down on the bed.

He ran a hand through his damp hair, unbothered, completely unaware — or pretending to be — of the way Rose had gone utterly still. She couldn't help it. Her eyes moved over him slowly, hungrily, tracing every ridge and curve. She thought about those arms. How they had held her down. How certain they had felt around her body. The memory of the night before rushed back in a wave — the way he had taken her apart, piece by piece, until she had shattered completely — and heat bloomed low in her stomach, spreading fast. "Like what you see, kitten?" Damien turned, his gaze finding hers instantly, his eyes flashing red.

I grinned my teeth and tried to smash my laptop, but stopped realizing it was expensive. Few minutes later, I heard a voice, “For five years, Rose.” Damien Anderson’s voice hit my ears from behind, as the door clapped, “How come you’ve become so hot and elegantly beautiful. You are still mine, Rose. All mine!” I got up from my desk and intended to get out. I didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say, but unfortunately he clutched me against the wall. And continued to whisper in my ear and took my hands, then pressed them against the wall.