Luciano's Forbidden Desire

DEAREST GENTLE READERS,

Lovelies, as the blurb implies, this is a dark romance book which explores complex themes, might cause conflicting emotions, and could tend to rattle your moral values. Trust me when I say, it will get intense as you read on, but if it's something you can't handle-take a deep breath, splash a cup of cold water on your face, sleep and step away for a while when it becomes too overwhelming... then return and please, pick up from where you left off.

It's a forbidden romance trope, so it's definitely going to test you at intervals. You might read things that would make you want to slap the FL or throw the ML into a ditch-yes, it's that triggering. But, I would prefer it if you read this book with an open mind, knowing that there's a lot to come, knowing that it's called dark romance for a reason.

Please, have this in mind before you drop a vile comment. Remember, your mental health and beliefs is of utmost concern and in the same way the characters are humans too, life can be a little tough and rough along the way because we're not all that perfect, so kindly, cut them some slacks while reading.

Thank you ❣.

Other trigger warnings include:

•Stalking, breaking and entering, surveillance.

•Graphic Violence and death

•Mentions of human trafficking (there are no first person POVs of any trafficking victims, but you'll get a hint of the trauma it leaves behind. Please, if you know someone who is a victim of human trafficking, or you get a hint of any suspicious activity related to this, please contact agencies responsible for protecting citizens and victims from these traffickers. Let's all come together to make the world a better and safe place.)

•Explicit sexual scenes.

•Kidnapping and blackmail.

•Cheating (not between main characters)

•A male lead who is basically a red flag all the way to his bones.

Please, proceed with caution and an open mind.

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Point of Views- POVs

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This book is written in dual point of view. Regardless, you might stay with a character for several chapters if it helps potray emotions and actions best.

Nevertheless, I will try my best to blend the potraiture of both POVs together, to help you get a taste of each character equally.

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UPDATE SCHEDULE

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I promise you at least one to three chapters per day, regardless of the fact that I might skip a day or two here and there. So please, engage with patience as life can get really tough at times. I'm a law student who is trying to juggle writing and academics, please bear with me.

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DEDICATION

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To all my girlies who love their fictional men dangerous, lurking in the shadows and are colourblind to those walking red flags-remember to run when they're real.

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AUTHOR'S PLEA.

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Dearies, it would mean so much to me if you can drop in-chapter comments, vote, support and drop 5-star rating reviews in the review section. Trust me, after a long day at school and the struggle to keep up with daily updates, seeing them serves as an encouragement to me to keep going, it'll be your voice as a reader to me... to tell me that I'm doing something right.

Your feedback matters, so please, don't be a silent reader. I'll love to hear your thoughts on every single chapter and the book overall.

Xoxo,

Betty Kris.

❤.

Chapter One

*~°*~°*~°*

Elizabeth

*~°*~°*~°*

There is a man bleeding on the altar.

I blinked-once, twice, to be sure I wasn't seeing things.

I'm not, because he is still there and he's bleeding quite a lot. There's blood all over the floor that I have to force myself to breathe... and not throw up.

My eyes dart across the cathedral, but there is no one here but him... and me-an ordinary nun who is yet to take her vows.

What should I do?

I can't just run and leave him here...

The only reason why I'm up at this ungodly hour is because I couldn't sleep. I've been having trouble sleeping this days and I only needed fresh air. Maybe Mama was right-where ever I go, bad things tend to happen.

Take a deep breath, Liz.

Take. a. deep. breath, Liz.

Exhaling deeply, I walked towards him, clutching my rosary like it was meant to protect me from him.

He could be a bad man. What if him bleeding on the altar is an act? What if I get there he'll grab me and-

Oh. My. God.

He's looking at me now. He's really looking at me with eyes so dark that I could have sworn-if nuns are allowed to swear-that there's something dangerous about him.

"Come here," he commanded, in a deep and raspy voice that does something to me that I can't explain.

My heart skittered to a stop.

The way his voice comes out makes it seem like he says that to a lot of women and they listen immediately. And I had an awful, awful impulse to listen.

With an erratic heartbeat, I took sure steps towards him. As soon as I reached him, he grabbed me by hand, pulling me onto him. One moment I was standing and the next moment am on him, my entire habit is stained with blood now.

What will I tell Mother Superior now?

He tilted my chin up to meet his gaze, studying me like he's trying to uncover if I'm a threat or not. His eyes stopped on the rosary around my neck, his gaze softening right after.

We're too close to each other so I rocked back, not fighting him because I'm afraid that if I do, I might end up worsening the injury-a bullet wound at his side. I pulled back again and for a man who is bleeding, his grip is surprisingly tight and I'm already shaken with the lightening bolt exploding in my chest and fizzing through my veins.

My breasts are pressed against his hard, warm abs and a shiver rolled through me.

He's a dying man, Liz.

Control yourself!

"Y-you're really hurt. I'll have to go find help," I told him, trying to get up because the position we were in was not one I needed someone else to walk into. A lot of things could be misread, and as it already is, I'm not really in the good books of many. But he dragged me back before I could succeed in rising up, hauling me back onto him.

"Don't call anyone, angel..."

Angel?

Angel?!

Is he seeing angels already?

Oh my God, this man is going to die. Mother Superior always says that when people are close to death, they begin to see ghosts, visions of their loved ones who are dead and most importantly, angels who have come to take them.

But if I can't call anyone, how am I supposed to save him? We tend to the sick, wounded and those dying in the convent. Well, exclude the latter part because this is the first time am this close to a dying man who is bleeding this much.

If I don't save him, the Lord will never forgive me. I can't let him die. I won't.

"But..."

"Take me to your room," he asked in the same voice as earlier that I'm beginning to hate, it does things to me that I shouldn't like.

To my room?

Does he not realize who I am or is his brain so fuzzed up that he can't think properly? If anyone sees a man in my room, I'll be kicked out of the convent for sure.

No man should even be on the monastery grounds at this hour, let alone taking him into my room.

I'm just about to tell him that but he repeated the words again,

"Take me to your room." His tone more firmer than before, with added force than necessary.

Taking a deep breath, shutting all the screaming voices in my head, I manage to lift him up, although I don't do it on my own. He helped by trying to get up as well. I guess he understands how huge his body frame is.

With slow steps, we make our way out of the cathedral, heading to the convent and specifically to my room. Luckily, the rest of the sisters retired early today, so it's just me and a man twice my height beside me.

I'm not going to lie, I'm panicking.

What if someone sees us?

What if he dies and am accused of murder?

I hope he doesn't. I just want to help a man... an innocent man perhaps.

Please, Lord... help me this time. Help me pass this test, please.

With a little push, my room door opened and we stepped in. After helping him onto the bed, I quickly rushed back to close the door, locking it after me.

A low ragged groan erupted from him, dragging my attention back to him, then I realized his eyes were closed now.

I don't have much time.

"Please don't die," I whispered, almost crying now. "Please, stay alive for me. Please..."

He didn't respond. Rather, he was mumbling something under his breath, something I couldn't quite hear. Opening my closet, I grabbed the first aid kit, blowing off the dust scattered all over the top of the box.

Clutching it to my chest, I walked towards the bed, sitting beside him and dropping the box next to me.

I inhaled.

I exhaled.

You can do this, Liz.

Just don't kill him and you'll be fine. I took one look at the door again, listening for footsteps before returning my eyes to him.

Lord, I should have stayed in my room today.

Chapter Two

*~°*~°*~°*

Elizabeth

*~°*~°*~°*

Resting my hand against his chest, a feeling of relief washed over me when I discovered he was still breathing.

That counts for something, doesn't it?

When I made a move to undress him, I started feeling fidgety and nervous all over, and I know why.

I've never been this close to a man before. Never ever.

I'm twenty-three and still a virgin. And I'm bound to remain one till I take my last breath. So this feeling should be totally normal. Right?

"Lord, please help me," I muttered to myself before reaching out to undress him. Each button I opened revealed a perfectly sculptured chest and I had to force my eyes back to his face.

This man was incredibly good looking. That was one fact that I couldn't deny, no matter how many voices in my head screamed that I should.

I peeled off his blood-soaked shirt completely and really took my time to look at him. Swallowing, my eyes roamed all over him in fascination. His chest and biceps are all covered in tattoos. The man is literally ink and muscle. All of him. Not an ounce of fat anywhere.

Heat flushes across my cheeks when I realize what I'm doing, and I have to drag my eyes away from him and on the first aid kit.

No distractions, Liz.

"Mister bleeding man," I started off, half to him and half to myself as I bring out all the items I would be needing for this inexperienced surgery. "I've never done this before, okay? Mother Roselyn is usually the one in charge of this kind of stuff, then she appoints someone to work with her." I started cleaning him up to make things easier and smooth for me. "I've never been chosen before, because the last time I was close to a bleeding person, I ended up lying in the sick bed right next to the bleeding victim. Mother Roselyn was furious with me, she called me dramatic because I fainted at the sight of blood."

I looked at him when I was done cleaning to check for signs that he might be listening, but there wasn't. I'm only talking to myself.

Regardless, I spoke up again, "But I promise... I promise to do a better job on you."

Wrapping my hair into a bun, with my hands still shaking all the way, I managed to stitch and bandage him up in places where necessary. My eyes strayed to the clock hanging above my closet and I realized that I've been doing this for over an hour.

Nevertheless, I did it. The stitches might not be so perfect but I really did it. I saved someone's life today.

I'm almost at the verge of crying out joyful tears when I remember I'm stained in blood too. So slowly, I lift myself off from him and step away from the bed.

His chest is rising and falling and that was all the hope that I needed. A lock of hair escaped, resting over his eyebrow and the urge to tuck them back grew with each passing second that I stood there. Shaking myself off from whatever trance I was in, I dropped the first aid kit back in the closet and made my way to the bathroom.

I needed to wash off every sign that I was close to a man... so close to him that I took his shirt off, that I imagined things.

Now I've got so many things to say during confession period.

After I took one good look at him to make sure he's perfectly okay, I hurriedly entered the bathroom and shut the door behind me, locking it like there was any way the unconscious man could break in.

Slowly, I took off my clothes, dropping them into the laundry basket before stepping into the shower.

As each droplet of water trickled down my skin, I start scrubbing, washing every trace of blood on my skin, and every attempt to shut down thoughts about him failed miserably.

Because, I had a thousand questions.

How did he get wounded?

Who shot him?

Was he running from someone... or was he the one behind the chase?

Why did he end up in the cathedral?

If he wakes up, would he remember my face?

Goosebumps rise on my skin as the last thought settles on me and I realize that I don't know if I want him to remember me.

What if he wakes up and gets everything all juggled up?

What if he ends up thinking I'm behind whatever happened to him since I was the only one up at that hour?

No.

No.

No.

Could such a thing happen?

I've heard stories where the good guys end up being framed for something they didn't do. What if I end up in that situation?

I reach up and wipe the tear rolling down my cheeks.

I'm not a murderer, but who would believe me? Not when there's proof of blood on the altar, proof of an unconscious man in my bedroom.

I'm scared. I've never been this scared before even when Mama hits me.

I'm really scared and I have no idea what would happen when he eventually wakes up.

"Lord, I just wanted to help an injured man. Please, let this not come back to bite me," I pleaded to the Almighty, hoping he was listening... hoping I wasn't alone in this.

It took me a total of thirty minutes to be done in the shower and dressed in a plain white nightwear that stopped just right after my knee-the kind of nightwear Mother Roeslyn expected us all to wear. Taking a deep breath again-something I've done quite a lot since today, I reached for the door handle, pulled and let myself out of the bathroom.

I released the breath I didn't realize I had been holding when I see him splayed on my bed, eyes closed and no signs of blood anywhere on my sheets.

I don't know but some part of me expected him to be gone by the time I was out. Seeing him still lying down on my bed unconscious made my nerves calm down a little bit.

I'm not going to lie, I feel so tired and sleepy altogether but I can't lie on the same bed with him.

That would be me going against everything Mother Roselyn taught us, everything a nun was supposed to stand for. So instead of lying on the bed, I walked towards my reading table and sat on the chair-waiting.

Waiting for sleep to take over so when I wake up, I'ld realize that all these is only a dream.

But as I tried to shut my eyes, I caught on to something on the bed, something I didn't notice before when I sat so close to him earlier.

With curiousity poking at me, I walked towards him and then I got a better view. My chest tightened when I saw it...

A gun.

There was a gun underneath him, almost like it slipped out when he slumped on the bed, and I was too blind to notice it.

My heart raced faster than normal as my gaze remained fixed on the weapon in my room.

What sort of man was this?

Who did I just let into my room?

An assassin? A murderer?

"Oh, God..." I slapped a hand over my mouth, suppressing whatever sound trying to crawl its way out of my throat.

What if... what if he killed someone and was only paying for his sins?

What if I saved the wrong person?

I'm still pondering over the numerous thoughts making their way to my head when I hear a loud thud at the door.

My heart skipped a beat.

The knock came again after a few seconds.

"Elizabeth! Open up, now!"

Oh, my. It's Mother Roselyn.