Sinner’S Obsession: The Stalker’S Love
CLAIMING WHAT MINE
The night had fallen into a veil of darkness, its shadows stretching far and wide. The city breathed in silence, but the low hum of approaching engines shattered the stillness. A fleet of sleek, black BMWs sliced through the night—vehicles that only the Mafia dared to claim as their own.
At the forefront, a dominant car led the convoy, its polished exterior gleaming under the dim streetlights. Behind it, three more followed in perfect formation, their presence as ominous as the men inside. Like silent reapers in the dead of night, they moved in slow synchronization, ensuring absolute security.
As the grand iron gates of an opulent villa swung open, the lead car rolled in with effortless authority. Its tires crunched against the gravel path, cutting through the pristine garden before coming to a halt. The air around it buzzed with an unspoken warning—someone powerful had arrived.
The lead car came to a commanding halt in front of the grand villa, its presence alone asserting dominance over the others. As the doors swung open with a sharp, deliberate motion, the first thing to emerge was a pair of polished leather shoes—belonging to none other than the most powerful man in the convoy.
Stepping out with an air of absolute authority, his gaze swept across the surroundings, scanning every inch with sharp precision. There was no rush in his movements—only calculated control, the kind that sent an unspoken warning to anyone watching.
The moment his presence filled the space, the heavy silence inside the villa broke. A man hurried out from within, his face pale with unease, as if the very arrival of this figure had unsettled him. He approached carefully, lowering his head in deference before speaking in a cautious tone.
Jung Hoseok
"Young Master is in his room."
Inside the grand villa, the entire living hall exuded an air of wealth and power, every inch of its luxurious interior reflecting dominance. But Kim Taehyung barely spared it a glance. His sharp eyes swept across the space, not in admiration, but in assessment—calculating, scanning. He wasn’t here for the extravagance. He was here for him.
Without hesitation, he strode forward, his presence heavy, demanding. The dim lighting cast sharp shadows across his face as he ascended the grand staircase, his gaze locked onto a single destination—the front room upstairs.
The air grew heavier with each step, his movements controlled yet brimming with an unspoken storm. Dressed entirely in black, his figure blended into the darkness, except for the deadly fire burning in his eyes.
Standing before the door, his jaw clenched. He knew what awaited inside. Knew the frustration clawing at his chest wouldn’t settle until he had released it all—until he was in front of him. Until he claimed what was his.
There was no turning back.
As the door swung open, the sight before him shattered his rage in an instant.
Whatever fury had burned within him vanished like smoke, replaced by something far more dangerous—an eerie, knowing smile curling at his lips. It wasn’t warmth. It wasn’t relief. It was *deadly.*
His dark eyes glowed with something raw, something untamed. Possession. Control. A hunger that refused to be denied.
And there, right in front of him, was the very reason he had come. The only thing that mattered. The only thing he was here to *take.*
Braty Baby author ✨
It's me again 😁
Braty Baby author ✨
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