Villains Fated Lovers
- Reads 58
- Votes 6
- Parts 8
"Go die!!" Grace said with a broken expression."How can I die My lovely flower" He cupped and creased her cheeks "If I die I'll go to hell or who knows maybe in heaven but where ever I go I won't feel sadness nor happiness. If I go to heaven I won't feel pain and I will be blessed with you but if I go to hell then I would be punished my being separated from you. My lovely flower I can't die. I want to feel the pain you give me I want the pleasure. I want to be painfully in love with you. It's painful to love you but God knows just how much pleasure I get from loving you". He kissed her forehead still cupping her face. "My lovely flower we live on earth that means we get to enjoy good and evil at the same time." He grinned. "That means that we can enjoy pain and pleasure too. So I'll let you enjoy a little pain then I will bless you with an insane amount of pleasure so be a good girl and lay down and relax." He after giving grace a gentle smile slammed her into his bed.
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𝐁𝐞𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞 | 18+
𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝. ★★★★ They say trust is the foundation of love. But what happens when the foundation 𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 begins to crack? This isn't a story of villains and saints, it's the story of two people who learned that sometimes, the only way to survive is to destroy the one who could save you. He taught her that promises mean nothing without power. She taught him that control means nothing without loyalty. Together, they blur every line between devotion and deceit. Because when trust turns into temptation, and love turns into leverage, someone always ends up on their 𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒔. She hides her pain behind silence. 𝑯𝒆 𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒔 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔. She wants to believe him. 𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆.
She is all warmth - curls in a high puff, glossed lips, flour on her apron, and a voice that carries. Her bakery is her world, filled with golden light and old people who call her "sweetheart." But she's lonely. She hides it behind laughter, behind playlists and pastries and hustle. This is her dream, but it's hard doing it alone in a city that doesn't wait for anyone. He is part of something dark - mafia blood, high-ranking, feared. The kind of man who speaks in low tones, wears all-black even in summer, and carries his trauma like a shadow. He's never wanted softness. He doesn't even like sweets. But something about her got under his skin - her laugh, her voice, the way she's alive when he hasn't felt anything in years. Now he comes to her bakery. Every day. Same table. Same order. Watching. Waiting. At first, he just needed a place to hide. Then he needed to see her. And now? He needs her like a sin he can't confess.
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