Hate & Heaven | 18+

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭, 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫
𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞,
𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭'𝐬
𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐞.
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐟,
𝐈'𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

❛ ━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━ ❜

"

Dimitrio leaned in closer, his mouth mere inches from hers. "Call me what you want," he murmured, his eyes darkening with intensity. "But remember, even devils have their own kind of beauty." His thumb slid along her jaw, his gaze dropping to her lips. For a heart-stopping moment, she thought he would kiss her, claim her in a brutal act of possession. But instead, his hand fell away, leaving her feeling exposed and cold.

He steered her back towards the car, his grip unyielding. The alley was a prison of shadows and despair, the sunlight at its mouth a mocking beacon of the freedom she had lost. As they emerged onto the bustling street, the chaos of the city swallowed them whole.

Dimitrio's penthouse was a stark contrast to the alley's grime, a gleaming bastion of wealth and power that loomed over the city like a sentinel. The ride up in the private elevator was silent, the only sound the hum of the machinery and the thundering of her heart. The doors opened to reveal a space that was as cold and unforgiving as the man himself.

The floor was made of gleaming black marble, the walls adorned with abstract art that seemed to whisper of the chaos within him. The room was sparse, with only a large four-poster bed and a floor-to-ceiling window that offered a panoramic view of the city. The bed was an invitation and a threat, a place of both comfort and torment.

Dimitrio guided her to the bed, his grip firm but not painful. She sat down, her knees drawn up to her chest, the heavy weight of the situation pressing down on her like a boulder. He walked to the window, his back to her, and she took the opportunity to study him. His broad shoulders and the way his suit clung to his muscular frame spoke of a man accustomed to power and danger.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she finally whispered, her voice a mere echo of the scream trapped in her chest. The question hung in the air, heavy with unshed tears and the weight of a future ripped away.

Dimitrio turned to face her, his gaze piercing through the shadows. "Because I can," he replied simply, his voice a velvet purr that belied the steel beneath. He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. He reached out a hand, and she flinched, expecting pain. But instead, he gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch surprisingly gentle.

Nakshathra stared at him, the words burning in her throat. "You're a sadistic bastard, you're very bad" she whispered, her voice trembling. The room felt colder, the walls closing in on her.

Dimitrio's smile was cold, a predator's grin. "You're the first to say that to me today," he said, his tone light, as if discussing the weather. "But I assure you, I'm not the type to be swayed by pretty words or empty threats." He took another step closer, and she could see the challenge in his eyes, the thrill of the hunt.

"Your fear is like a sweet perfume," he murmured, leaning down so that his mouth was level with her ear. "And with one whiff, I'm forever bound to you." His breath was warm, sending a shiver down her spine. "But don't provoke me to show you what I'm truly capable of."

Nakshathra's eyes widened with terror as she felt his hand slide down her arm, his fingers wrapping around her wrist in a grip that was gentle yet unyielding. "Whaa...at?" she managed to choke out, her voice barely above a whisper.