Enigmatic Love: The CEO's Sinister Charm

The moonlight seeped through the thin silk curtains on a cold night, glowing gently into the spacious European-style villa room. The night breeze lifted the faint purple veil, creating a contrasting scene with the cold and serene moonlight outside the window.

Two fiery souls were entangled in the dimly lit room, their bodies closely intertwined, accompanied by the relaxed yet dangerous moonlight. The man's movements were cold and rigid, devoid of emotions or simply a physical exchange.

Despite this, deep within the woman's facade lay a profound melancholy. She tried to display a seductive and arrogant charm, with a face adorned with countless expressions, and her panting breaths filled the air as she attempted to gain control over the man above her.

She understood how to captivate a man, especially in situations like this, where any man involved with her would be enchanted by her allure. However, this particular man was different. Until now, he only wanted to possess her without hesitation, almost ending their relationship. It was only for the sake of physical desires or cravings. He had never wanted her to touch him.

Feeling dissatisfied, she slowly extended her delicate fingers, gently caressing his forehead, nose, short chin, and firm chest. But as soon as she touched him, a striking scar appeared on his chest, a dark red mark resembling a coiling serpent. It emerged abruptly, adding an extra layer of mystery to this already incredibly handsome man.

"Don't touch that!" He suddenly caught her hand, his voice cold and filled with a warning.

The woman's expression quickly changed from flirtatious to submissive as she reached her hand around his neck, letting out a resentful sigh.

Like an ignited flame, the man fiercely reciprocated, relentlessly taking and seizing as they rolled from one bed to another.

The woman's face displayed a mixture of seduction and beauty, and her breaths labored, no longer seeking to allure. The man's continuous advances beneath her caused her trembling body to lose its purpose of seduction.

But just as her alluring and moist red lips were about to touch the man's thin lips, all movement suddenly stopped for a second.

"Master?" A hint of suspicion and temptation appeared on her face, and her graceful figure blushed in a few places unnaturally. She was dissatisfied and buried her face in his shoulder, yearning for more from him.

"What's wrong, Master?" She immediately pursued, wrapping her watery arms around him from behind.

A trace of impatience appeared between Richard Helga's eyebrows. He coldly pushed her away, sternly reminding her, "You forgot one crucial fact! I never kiss any other woman."

"Why? Why is it that you never kiss me every time we're intimate? You won't let me kiss you, either! If I've done something wrong, I can fix it!" The woman's jaw contained resentment. She, Vermouth, was a highly skilled and seductive assassin who had countless men kneeling under her charm. Except for their leader, no man had caught her eye.

She had hoped to possess this perfect man. She had only been waiting for a kiss from him. Could that be too much to ask for?

"Because you're not worthy!" In Richard Helga's eyes, a mocking glint flashed by. Without any emotion, he left behind a chilling remark before turning away.

The night was silent, and ultimately, it was easy to evoke memories of the past.

Richard Helga stood still in the dark, under the dim and illusory light. With a cigar between his fingers, he exhaled a ring of smoke, transforming him into a mysterious man.

The identical lamps formed a procession on the villa's balcony, overlooking the chaotic city lights, but his heart was elsewhere.

"Rosabella, I miss you so much!" There was something inexplicable in his eyes. A beautiful image, covered in dust and deeply hidden, resurfaced in his mind.

Four years, 1268 days had passed, and his longing for her grew stronger each day, intensifying without ever ceasing.

Although in these four years, he had countless women and experienced numerous pleasures, in his eyes, in his innermost being, no other woman existed apart from her.

He loved her so much, but she not only didn't love him back but also hated him deeply.

"How do you compare to her?" Vermouth wrapped herself in a thin blanket, unaware of when she stood behind Richard Helga. Embracing his waist from behind, she asked in a timid tone.

"You can leave. Our relationship ends here!" Richard Helga glanced at the seductive woman, tossing a chilling remark that froze her heart.

Vermouth froze, her face immediately becoming unpleasant to look at. She whimpered, "Why? Master, why do you treat me like this?"

She thought they had differences, but she never expected him to want to dismiss her. Their calculations before were never alike! She believed she could surely captivate this man's heart with her beauty and charm. Yet, in the end, she suffered a devastating failure.

"Don't harbor any illusions about me. Your future will be filled with misery. As a woman, the most I've encountered is just once." Richard Helga frowned, displaying a sense of disdain, his voice growing even more profound.

Vermouth felt lost in her inner turmoil. She fell to her knees, futilely clinging to his large body, desperately pleading, "Richard, please don't abandon me. I'm willing to do anything for you."

"Vermouth, you don't give me this feeling." Richard Helga showed no mercy, kicking her away with one swift move. He lifted his head and walked away without looking back, heading towards the luxurious bathroom.

Before leaving, he didn't forget to throw a warning that shattered Vermouth's heart completely.

"Take advantage of the fact that I haven't changed my mind and disappear immediately. Otherwise, you'll know the consequences."

Vermouth trembled like a frightened child. Desperation filled her gaze in an instant. She covered her face and ran outside, her heart deeply wounded by his actions.

Such incidents had happened countless times with countless women he encountered.

Richard Helga relaxed in the large, luxurious bathtub, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling. Mist rose in the opulent bathroom, revealing the sharp contours of his perfect face, giving him a mysterious allure.

He held a glass of red wine in his right hand, swaying the pinkish liquid inside, while his left hand held a photograph.

"Rosabella, they have no right to blame you. I love you, only you unless I cease to exist!" He murmured nonsensical words in his mouth. His sharp and piercing eyes softened and became infinitely gentle, brimming with deep affection.

But such displays were only shown in front of a girl named Rosabella Helga.

On the steamed-up glass, Richard Helga wrote and rewrote the name Rosabella. His icy finger moved until it became numb, making it clear how deep and agonizing his love was, down to the bone marrow.

The elegant yet cold bathroom, adorned with a few warm colors, created a harmonious ambiance, unlike the distance in love.

The thunder roared, and rain poured down as if it were being poured from buckets. Thunder echoed through the air, shattering the night along with it.

Inside the gloomy mansion, the scent of blood permeated the air.

"You rotten brat, where do you think you're running?"

A middle-aged woman, around 30 years old, chased after a young boy running ahead. She held a thick and menacing stick in her hand.

"Are you the rich young master? You're nothing more than the result of that lowly woman's birth. What do you rely on in this house? What do you use to fight me for the inheritance?"

The woman cornered the boy against a wall, catching hold of his thin, fragile shoulders. She raised the large stick and swung it with all her might, striking the boy.

The boy gritted his teeth and clung to his small, frail body, covered in numerous wounds. Blood pooled in his existing scars, now joined by countless new ones. His lips turned pale as he bit them, refusing to open his mouth to plead for mercy, only allowing drops of red blood to trickle down.

Though young, his demeanor didn't match his age at all. He appeared mature and committed.

"You, you lowly scum!!! Die! I'll go find death!!"

The woman aggressively spat out hurtful words, unable to control herself when faced with a boy whose handsome face resembled the woman who destroyed her family. The more she saw the resemblance, the more uncontrollable she became, using even more force to strike the boy with the large stick.

"Madam, it's not good! The master has returned!"

A middle-aged butler rushed in from outside the mansion in a panic, trying to hinder the woman's actions. His terrified expression conveyed a sense of urgency.

"The master has returned?" She couldn't bring herself to put down the large stick in her hand, forcefully grabbing the boy's chin, and sternly warned, "Consider this your lucky day, brat. But remember, if you dare to tell the master about what just happened, I assure you the next time will be even worse. Do you understand?"

The boy gritted his teeth and nodded, his face as pale as a sheet of paper. However, his eyes revealed a chilling determination.

He would seek revenge. This woman killed his mother and abused and beat him every day. When he grew up, he would surely repay blood with blood.

"Take him to the inner room and lock him up. No food for three days. If the master asks, say he's gone out to study."

The woman's eyes flickered as she faced the butler, giving him instructions.

"Yes, madam!" The butler respectfully stroked his chin, turned away, and gazed at the young boy disdainfully.

The boy's name was Richard Helga, only seven years old, born to a wealthy man from a prominent family and an outsider woman. This cruel woman had dealt with that woman, but fate had brought the child back to the mansion. Over the past few days, this wicked woman had found every possible way to torment the boy, satisfying her inner dissatisfaction and resentment.

However, despite being the son of a tiger, the boy possessed a stunning appearance, resembling his noble mother. With his charming features and youthful talents, he already exuded the aura of a young prince. His fair complexion stirred both envy and deluded fantasies in women.

"Young master, come with me," the butler commanded, forcefully pulling the boy's body from the ground, his tone filled with malicious intent.

"Stop!" Richard Helga's handsome face twisted with a cold, ruthless glint in his eyes. His voice cut through the night's pouring rain like an icy blade, revealing a deep-rooted cunning nature.

The butler seemed to find it amusing, emitting a cold laugh as his hand reached into Richard Helga's clothing.

"Do you want me to leave? Then who will tend to your wounds? Your injuries are severe, and without me, you would perish."

Although his words seemed to show concern, his hand caressed Richard Helga's chin, assessing the boy who stood before him. In the boy's eyes, a chilling hostility didn't match his tender age, causing the butler's heart to race. Yet, despite this, he had no intention of quickly releasing his grip.

After all, he had been injured like this, and the mistress had ordered three days without food. It was sure that the boy wouldn't survive. Nevertheless, he would rather die before experiencing the pleasure of taking a young, beautiful male like this.

"Let me see how you handle your injuries." Before he could pull down the boy's clothes, a pained groan escaped his lips.

Unbeknownst to him, Richard Helga had taken the opportunity to bite down fiercely on his exposed shoulder, and a stream of fresh blood flowed down the butler's arm.

"You, this wretched little brat, dares to bite me! Today, I will show you how I'll punish you." The butler, entirely provoked, slapped the boy's face with a resounding blow, dragging him closer.

"Release him, or you will surely regret it!" Richard Helga's eyes were icy cold, emanating a menacing glare, his pupils filled with determination. He tightened his fists, channeling his strength into them, ready to strike.

The sinister butler chuckled, his dark eyes gleaming with mockery. "Little brat, do you think you're a true heir? You're nothing more than a bastard left behind by the older man outside. Behave and let me have fun with you a few times, and maybe I'll do something nice for you when I get bored. Otherwise, you'll regret it."

With those words, he grabbed Richard Helga by the hair, his cruel hand pulling forcefully.

Richard Helga endured the humiliation, his fierce gaze fixed on the butler, veins bulging on his forehead, almost on the verge of bursting, when the butler unexpectedly pulled his belt, turning around and facing the young boy.

Outside, the chilling wind ravaged the surroundings, thunder booming as the cold air seeped into the basement. Richard Helga could no longer contain his emotions and burst into loud sobs.

At that moment, the basement door suddenly swung open, revealing a young woman dressed in a gown. She appeared like a heavenly angel, adorned in a silk dress with a butterfly-shaped bow tied on the side. Her long, dark hair cascaded down her shoulders, and there was an exquisite hairpin on one side.

"Release him!" Rosabella Helga exclaimed angrily, her intense gaze piercing straight into the butler, her beautiful face filled with disgust.

Moments ago, as she walked out of the room, she caught sight of the butler dragging a young boy down to the basement. She could already see the boy's pale and helpless appearance from a distance, which worried her, not because of the butler's twisted tendencies relapsing.

"Butler Davil, you have my stepmother's orders to confine him here," Rosabella Helga stated firmly, her voice unwavering, her chest filled with anger and agitation.

In front of them stood a boy not yet even ten years old, his frail body weak and malnourished. He wore tattered and torn clothes, revealing old scars and fresh wounds, evoking deep sympathy.

Their father brought This boy before them from an outside affair, her half-brother, yet he was being treated in such a manner. Internally, Rosabella Helga felt both heartache and anger, and when she saw the tears welling up in his eyes, she immediately understood what was happening.

Beast! How could they show no mercy to such a young child?

"Miss, please, I implore you not to inform the old master. All of this was solely at the behest of your stepmother. I have no involvement in this matter whatsoever," Butler Hoa pleaded smilingly, desperately appealing to Rosabella.

"Butler Davil, you must be well aware of his background. Just by what you've done to him, I could easily turn you over to the police, charging you with a criminal offense," Rosabella Helga threatened, her piercing gaze piercing through Butler Hoa, her voice cold and relentless.

The trembling body of the butler begged on his knees, "Please, young miss, don't do this. I beg you not to tell the master, and I certainly don't want to involve the police. I know my bad habits, and I promise to change from now on. I will never mistreat the young master again."

"What reason do I have to trust you?" Rosabella Helga listened to his pitiful plea without a trace of sympathy.

"Young Miss, if I ever act this way towards the young master again, you have full authority to handle the matter as you see fit," the butler solemnly declared.

"Very well, but you haven't convinced me yet!" Rosabella Helga's voice turned cold and sharp as she turned away from him, emphasizing each word, "You must meet my demands. If my mother treats me poorly again because of him, you must inform me beforehand. If not, I will tell my father about today's incident."

"Yes, yes, I understand!" The butler breathed a sigh of relief, quickly bowing his head and hunching his back.

Only then did Rosabella Helga turn around and approach Richard Helga, standing in front of him with outstretched arms, beckoning him, "Sister will take you outside?"

She smiled at him, resembling that of a pure and untainted angel, yet with a hint of something resembling a shining star between them. Not a blink went by without her direct gaze fixed upon him.

Richard Helga's heart was stirred, experiencing a strange emotion deep within. However, instead of extending his hand, he coldly stared back at Rosabella Helga, his eyes hinting at a mismatched sentiment.

"What's wrong with you?" Rosabella Helga asked with confusion. Why was her brother looking at her with such a peculiar gaze?

She had saved him. Shouldn't he feel grateful? How was it that there was no trace of gratitude on his face, but it made it difficult for others to approach him?

Richard Helga didn't respond to Rosabella Helga's questioning. Instead, he stood up and walked directly to the butler's side.

In the darkness, none of them could see any expression on his face, but they could all sense a chilling aura growing stronger and directed toward the butler.

Until Richard Helga swiftly moved towards the butler, his figure agile and nimble. He held a sharp dagger that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. Without waiting for any reaction from the butler, he fiercely thrust the blade toward him.

"Aaaah!" The butler screamed in agony, his cries echoing through the dimly lit room.

Fresh blood flowed freely, staining the surroundings. An atmosphere of cold-bloodedness and brutality filled the room while Richard Helga revealed in sadistic delight.

Rosabella Helga stood frozen in place, unable to believe what had happened. She couldn't comprehend how a young boy of such a tender age could commit such an act.

"To ensure he never repeats his actions, the best course of action is to ensure he can never speak again." Richard Helga arrogantly glanced at Rosabella Helga, his eyes gleaming with a bloodlust that seemed to want to suck her soul into them.

Rosabella Helga became aware of this, and her trembling body gradually calmed down. She dared not look directly into those eyes anymore, as it was evident that despite being only six years old, he had uttered such cruel words, especially with those chillingly cold eyes.

"You..." She furrowed her brows and raised her dark eyebrows, narrowing her eyes as she stared at him, revealing her wariness.

This little boy was not as simple as he appeared, or at least that's what Rosabella Helga thought.

In reality, a series of incidents that followed proved her thoughts right-Richard Helga was indeed not an ordinary little boy.

Not long after, Rosabella Helga's father discovered Richard Helga's mistreatment and was furious. Richard Helga was considered the sole heir to the family's fortune, and he was deeply cherished by his father, who even regarded him as the legitimate child of his formal wife.

However, since Rosabella Helga saved him that night, she never saw her supposed little brother again. Her father had sent him abroad for education, wanting to groom him as the sole male heir. The two siblings had never met again, and gradually, Rosabella Helga forgot that there had ever been a person bearing the title of her younger brother in her life.

Until ten years later.

Rosabella Helga stood in shock, unable to believe what she was witnessing. This young boy, barely in his teens, had caused such a commotion.

"To ensure he never speaks again, the best course of action is to make sure he can't open his mouth," Richard Helga said coldly, casting a disdainful glance at Rosabella Helga. His eyes gleamed sinisterly as if they could consume her soul.

Rosabella Helga became aware of her trembling body and slowly lowered herself, unable to meet his gaze any longer. It was astonishing that such a young boy could utter such cruel words, and his eyes were particularly chilling.

"You..." she stammered, furrowing her brow and raising her dark eyebrows, studying him cautiously, a defensive look on her face.

This boy was not as simple as he appeared; that's what Rosabella Helga thought. And in reality, a series of events soon unfolded to prove her initial thoughts - Richard Helga was not just an ordinary boy.

Shortly after, Rosabella Helga's father discovered Richard Helga's mistreatment, and he was furious. Seeing Richard Helga as the sole heir to the family business, he cherished him dearly, even considering him the illegitimate son of his official wife.

However, since that night when she saved him, Rosabella Helga never saw her supposed younger brother again. Her father wanted to nurture this sole son and sent him abroad for education. The two siblings never met again, and gradually Rosabella Helga forgot that she had once had a brother.

Until ten years later.

That night, Richard Helga turned sixteen and returned from studying abroad. Leonard, wanting to celebrate his son's return, organized a grand feast.

It was an extravagant affair, with crystal chandeliers casting a bright, shimmering light and polished marble floors exuding a calm and dazzling aura. The grand hall was bustling with guests, coming and going like flowing water, and the air was filled with the aroma of exquisite delicacies mingled with the fragrance of red wine.

Along the balcony, near a partially open window, stood a figure. Rosabella Helga had turned twenty when a young woman blossomed into radiant beauty and was living proof of it. Tonight, she wore a low-cut, floor-length gown that revealed her graceful demeanor and an enchanting elegance that made every man in the world dream and yearn for her.

Tonight, she attended this birthday banquet as the hostess. Under the spotlight's glow, Rosabella Helga held a tall glass of wine in her hand, lifting her gown and gracefully approaching each guest, her beautiful face and alluring attire with countless captivating glances.

The joyful music permeated the secluded mansion.

Amidst the climax, time suddenly seemed to count down. The opulent living room, illuminated by the lights, suddenly darkened, and the white servants brought a towering birthday cake to the center.

Accompanied by applause from the crowd, a young man appeared, captive, tying everyone's attention. Slowly descending the staircase, he possessed a striking presence, tall and noble, with thin lips that exuded arrogance yet icy coldness. His whole being emitted an aura of mystery and chilling authority, an air of royalty that made people tremble, not daring to come near him even half a step.

The scene fell into a peaceful silence.

All the guests fixed their gazes on this handsome young man, unable to tear their eyes away.

"Wow, he's so handsome!" Several women couldn't contain their excitement and let out a choked exclamation.

Standing by the window, Rosabella Helga felt her body tremble uncontrollably. Her delicate face turned pale, and her gem-like eyes stared in astonishment at the young man before her.

Was he her younger brother?

At sixteen, he had grown into such a remarkable figure. Now standing under the spotlight, his well-fitted attire stealing the glances of others, he looked completely different from the crying boy in the dimly lit room ten years ago. Not even a trace of resemblance.

Rosabella Helga looked at him from a distance, a sense of unease creeping into her innermost being. His gaze wasn't directed at her, but why did she always feel his eyes linger on her, never leaving?

It's okay, Rosabella Helga. It would be strange if he recognized you after ten years.

Lost in her thoughts, Rosabella Helga suddenly noticed Leonard placing the wine glass down and stepping forward with a dignified stride toward him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I want to thank all of you for attending Richard's birthday celebration. Tonight marks the sixteenth birthday of Leonard Helga's only son, Richard, and it is an occasion to dedicate all his lifetime efforts to his management. From now on, Richard's words will also be the words of Leonard Helga, and I hope that everyone will continue to support him as they have done so far, assisting my son. The world's future belongs to the youth like all of you."

Mr. Leonard placed his hand on Richard Helga's shoulder, wearing a visible expression of joy. He then enthusiastically began to explain the purpose of the gathering, immediately receiving a round of enthusiastic applause.

Next came the cake-cutting ceremony. Richard Helga held a small knife and sliced the cake into individual pieces, offering them to Leonard Helga and the elders and siblings within the family.

This banquet was, in fact, an opportunity for Leonard to publicly declare that his sixteen-year-old son would succeed him.

In various waves, the guests whispered incessantly into each other's ears, their voices lingering. The aroma of red wine filled the air, and each person wore a flattering smile as they surrounded Richard, displaying their fawning expressions.

As the birthday celebration unfolded, Rosabella Helga found herself alone, holding a glass of red wine, walking into the villa's garden.

When her father spoke those words, she understood that, as a young woman, she would eventually have to withdraw and not compete with her younger brother for power.

"Rosabella, why are you standing here alone?" Suddenly, a low, gentle voice of a man came from behind her.

Rosabella Helga startled and weakly smiled as she turned in another direction, her eyes meeting a handsome face.

This angelic beauty exuded a prince-like demeanor, noble and refined. His sharp eyebrows and sword-like eyes gazed at her with an incredibly gentle look as if he wanted to drown her in it.

He was Paul Harold, Rosabella Helga's current boyfriend, a man of prestigious background, tall and handsome, exuding an extraordinary aura. He was the unique heir of the XX Group.

"Paul," Rosabella Helga called him affectionately, her eyes sparkling like stars as she looked at him. "I just came out here to breathe some fresh air. It's a bit stuffy inside."