His to Break , Mine to Burn ~~

Prologue ~~

Unknown

We were never strangers. Even before we met, we were circling each other like smoke and fire—drawn, doomed, inevitable.

Unknown

I am here to kill him. With a smile on my lips and a lie in my heart. Because I’d already seen him. Watched him. Wanted him. Not for the kill. For the craving.

Unknown

He moved like sin wrapped in silk. The kind of man who didn’t just steal power—he devoured it. And I was supposed to be his end. But the second his eyes found mine across the room, I knew I’d already lost. Because monsters recognize their own. And I was starving.

Unknown

She thought she was hunting me. Deadly. I let her watch. Let her think she had the upper hand. I’d felt her eyes long before I saw her face—and when I finally did, it felt like looking into the version of myself I’d tried to bury. Beautiful. Deadly. Mine.

Unknown

She walked in like temptation with a body count. Wore red like a warning, smiled like she knew how I'd die. She was wrong.

Unknown

She would be the one to fall. To burn. To break. And I’d be right there to catch her— Wrap her in chains made of kisses and promises, and make her thank me for every bruise I carved into her soul.

We were poison and gasoline. Fire and sharp edges. And when we collided, the world didn’t stand a chance. Not because we were in love. But because we were obsessed. With the danger. With the control. With each other.

Author’s POV She was here to kill him. He was waiting to own her. Neither flinched when they met—two predators, one game. She wore her smile like a weapon. He wore his power like a crown.

They weren’t looking for love. They were looking for war. And they found it—in each other. Obsession was instant. Destruction was inevitable. And once their hands touched, it was already too late. This story doesn’t end with a kiss. It ends in ruin.

Author

Bye bye roses

The First spark ~~

~CONTINUED ~

The club pulsed like a heartbeat—low, dark, and dangerous. He sat in the private lounge above it all, cloaked in velvet shadows and gold-trimmed silence. Below him, bodies moved in time with the heavy bass. Lust thickened the air—perfume, sweat, the scent of something forbidden.

Red lights bathed the dancers in a haze of seduction. One woman moved like smoke, hips swaying, eyes locked on Him as if he were a god she wanted to worship—or ruin. He didn’t blink. He didn’t care.

The club—Inferno—was his personal kingdom. No one entered without permission. No one left without consequence. Every room wired. Every corner guarded. And still, it felt like a church for sinners—built on blood, secrets, and control.

At the glass table beside him, phones buzzed quietly. Shipment details. Arms drop-offs. One from Spain. Another from Montenegro. He scanned the numbers with a glass of whiskey in hand, eyes sharp even in the low light. Business was smooth. Precise. Just the way he liked it.

Until one screen flashed red. A silent buzz. His gaze dropped to the encrypted message. (PORTSIDE DOCK 17 RAIDED. ALL CARGO LOST. CALLING CARD: BLOOD LILY .)

His fingers stilled. The music below kept pulsing. The dancer kept swaying. But inside Him? Something snapped. He leaned back slowly, lifting his glass again, voice calm as fire just before it spreads.

Unknown

Call Nico. And tell him to shut the sides of all the ports. No one will move until I say so. *calm*

*Froze* You think it - *stop*

Unknown

I know it's her *smirk*

Other side

From behind the tinted glass of a high-rise penthouse, lounged with one leg crossed over the other, a silk robe falling off one shoulder like it was made to be ignored. The city pulsed beneath her—oblivious, as always. But not him. Not anymore.

The flat screen before her played muted security footage of Inferno, private empire. She could see him, even from here—perched like a king over a kingdom of sin. Glass in hand. Jaw tight. And then it happened.

His second-in-command leaned in. Whispered something. His body language changed. He froze. Sat back. Then smiled. Her smile mirrored his. Slow. Vicious.

Unknown

He knows *mumble*

？

He is already moving. Locking down the docks. Pulling strings. *while typing something on laptop*

Unknown

Let him be he wouldn't know anything except the gift I left for him. *smirk*

？

Yo-*stop*

Unknown

It's just the start babe ~~there is more to come *dark smile *

Unknown

Let's go *while standing up *

？

*put everything in her bag *

Unknown

*lit the liter *

And

Blast

？

*Huff*- she would definitely kill me if this keep going *mumble to herself *

Author

Next will be the introduction maybe

Author

See you in the next chapter byee

The Bloom of war ~~

Authors Pov

The port burned. Charred wood cracked beneath the pressure of smoldering crates. Smoke curled toward the sky in thick ribbons, suffocating the stars. The air was heavy—tainted with salt, ash, and the metallic sting of gasoline. What was once a fortress of wealth and secrecy was now a graveyard.

And still… silence. Until the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the chaos. He moved like a shadow, unrushed and unapologetic. His presence alone parted the smoke as though even the fire itself knew better than to touch him. Black boots, polished and deadly, stepped over broken crates and spilled bullets. A long coat swayed around his legs, tailored like it belonged on a man who ran empires and buried kingdoms.

The others followed behind him—silent, unsure, but alert. They called him many names. Some whispered them in fear. Others with reverence. But most didn’t speak at all. Not unless they were ready to bleed.

He stood there—tall, still, composed in a terrifying way. The faint glint of his silver cufflinks caught the flickering light of the flames. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, but his eyes—his eyes were a storm. No one dared speak. Men in black suits lingered behind him, silent, waiting. But they all knew there was only one voice that mattered here. One command. One king.

~ Alaric De Santis ~

Age : 30 years

A storm in silk. Cold, calculated, and dangerously seductive. He speaks in low tones that command loyalty and fear alike. His eyes see through lies, his touch claims, and once you're his, there's no escape. Ruthless in power, obsessive in love—Alaric doesn’t just ruin enemies, he erases them.