Isabe stood there, a deer caught in headlights, as the man with golden hair like sunlit strands and eyes deep blue like the ocean gazed at her. His smile, seemingly polite and inviting, was a well-crafted mask hiding the wolf lurking beneath. She could feel it in her bones, a cold shiver running down her spine – anyone who ran with Emanuele was anything but simple, anything but harmless.


    The Campbell Group, a name that echoed with power and dark secrets, was not just a corporate titan but a front for something far more sinister. The mafia. Isabe never imagined that Emanuele, a figure shrouded in mystery and danger, would be at its core. The sight of rk, his lips pressing against hers, caused Emanuele’s brow to furrow deeply, a storm brewing in his dark eyes. This was supposed to be a day of joy, yet there he stood, his mood as dark as the clouds on a stormy night.


    Pressured by Emanuele’s intense gaze, Isabe found herself responding, her voice barely above a whisper, her smile weak and wavering. “Pleased to meet you,” she said, her politeness a thin mask over the turmoil swirling inside her.


    But Emanuele saw through it all. The gentle smile she offered others, the softness in her voice, the way she moved with such ease – all of it contrasted sharply with the cold, distant, and fearful fa?ade she presented to him. It grated on him, the unseen side of her that he never got to see.


    Emanuele’s anger boiled over. With a grip as tight as iron, he dered to the room, his voice thundering, “Isabe and I need to discuss something.” He pulled her along, his hold unyielding, towards the study.


    The party continued in the banquet hall, but between Emanuele and Isabe, the air was thick with unspoken words and brewing storms.


    At the study’s door, Emanuele’s push sent Isabe stumbling, her bnce teetering on the edge of control. The door mmed shut behind them, trapping them in a world of their own, charged with tension and unspoken fury.


    Emanuele, his face twisted in rage, grabbed her shoulder, yanking her toward him. His words were like venom, his voice a growling thunder, “Flirting with everyone, are you? Acting like amon harlot? Do you have any idea how much you’re embarrassing me?”


    Isabe, taken aback, retorted with a mixture of shock and defiance. “You wanted me to marry, didn’t you? I’m just following your script. What more do you want from me?”


    Emanuele’s expression turned even colder, his eyes burning with a fury that seemed to consume him. “What do I want? You think you’ve trapped rk, my brother. But I have to ensure you’re worthy of him.”


    His mind was a whirlpool of conflicting emotions, an unsolvable puzzle. He wanted to crush her spirit, to dominate herpletely. An irrational impulse surged through him, a fierce desire to break her defiance.


    In a sudden, aggressive move, he yanked down the straps of her top, exposing the delicate curve of her cleavage, her skin pale as moonlight. Isabe’s scream echoed through the room, a sound of terror and disbelief. She fumbled to cover herself, her hands trembling, her face drained of color, tears brimming in her eyes.


    “You’re insane! I’m your stepsister!” she cried out, her voiceced with horror as she scrambled away, seeking refuge in a corner, desperate to escape his touch. The reality was too grotesque, too unthinkable.


    “Stepsister?” Emanuele’s smile was cruel, his tone dark and ominous. “Just a title. Remember, I rule Chicago. There’s nothing I can’t do.”


    Isabe crouched in the corner, her arms wrapped protectively around herself. Her lips quivered, her breaths ragged and desperate. Her mind teetered on the brink of copse; she needed her medication, her ustrophobia wing at her, threatening to overwhelm her.


    “Isabe, be good and obedient.” Emanuele suddenly crouched down and looked at Isabe in the corner. For a moment, he saw that she was really obedient.


    Emanuele had rarely seen such a sweet side of Isabe, and his movements had softened a little.


    Emanuele reached out and touched Isabe’s cheek. The rough rub of the man’s hand, thick with calluses from years of gun handling, touched her skin and made Isabe’s skin grow goosebumps.


    Isabe wanted to scream and run away, but with no strength left, she was at the mercy of Emanuele.


    He brushed his thumb against Isabe’s lip and held it there for a long time.


    It was this mouth like a red rose that always said something that made him angry. But at this moment, looking at her sitting in the corner, slightly open mouth, breathing.Content is property ? N?velDrama.Org.


    But it gave Emanuele an idea.


    Trying to get her down on her knees, kneeling between his legs, holding his genitals, a mouth that was born to do that. Like her ass, she was born to be pped in bed.


    Evil thoughts swirled in Emanuele’s mind, and desire beat in his veins.


    In fact, he disliked the feeling so much that he didn’t allow himself to lust after a woman who was hating him, which made him feel like he was being yed.


    So at this moment Emanuele’s desire to kill Isabe was even stronger, or else kill her.


    The color of lust had not yet faded from Emanuele’s eyes, and there was more murder in it.


    Just then, Isabe, nervous and feeling dry as Emanuele kept touching her lips, stuck out her tongue and licked them.


    Who knows? identally licked Emanuele’s finger.


    The soft, moist touch on Emanuele’s fingers made Emanuele feel as if he had been struck by lightning, and his muscles straightened.


    “Can’t wait for me to fuck you in a ce like this? Isabe, you’re such a slut.” Emanuele decided to change his mind. He reached out and pry Isabe’s lips rudely open. His fingers went deep into Isabe’s mouth, one, two, three, and stirred rudely in her mouth, mimicking the act of intercourse.


    Isabe had no idea what was going on, and was forced to hold Emanuele’s fingers, which made her feel even more suffocated, not to mention that Emanuele’s fingers continued to dig deeper into her throat.


    Isabe struggled, but her strength was only scratching an itch for him.


    Isabe looked up at Emanuele, asking for mercy, begging him to leave her alone, but her mouth was blocked and she could not speak.


    Looking at Isabe’s wet eyes and the drool dripping from her mouth, Emanuele felt that his genitalia had be as hard as stone, and he wanted to fuck her in this ce.