Lahat ng Kabanata ng BOYTOYED: 365 Nights With Him: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

HIROTO'S POV The morning after at the estate had been cold. Neven hadn't given me an answer, and the silence in the car ride back to the dorms was louder than any of his commands. He thought he could just fuck the questions out of me. He thought that by being "lenient" with his money, I’d be content staying in the shadows.He was wrong.Two weeks passed, and I went completely dark. I didn't show up to a single one of his lectures. I blocked his primary number, and when he tried calling from others, I let them ring until the room was filled with the lonely buzz of a phone I refused to touch."You're skipping Karlsson’s class again?" Kenji asked on Friday afternoon, tossing his bag onto his bed. He looked at me with genuine worry. "Dude, you’re the top student. That dude is going to eat you alive for this. He looked like he was about to murder someone today when he saw your seat was empty.""Let him," I said, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I was wearing a tight, black mesh shi

HIROTO'S POV The ride from the club to the estate was the most terrifying forty minutes of my life. Neven didn't say a single word. He sat in the back of the Audi with his jaw set so tight I thought his teeth might crack. He didn't even look at me. He just gripped my wrist, his fingers digging into my skin, pinning my hand to the leather seat between us.I was still half-dressed, my mesh shirt torn open and my leather pants barely hanging on my hips. I felt the cold air from the vents hitting my damp skin, reminding me of the "filth" Neven had seen in my mouth just minutes ago. Every time the car hit a bump, I flinched, but Neven’s grip only tightened. He was vibrating with a silent, murderous fury.The moment the car stopped in the estate’s circular driveway, Neven dragged me out. He didn't wait for the driver to open the door. He hauled me through the front doors and up the marble stairs, my bare feet stumbling to keep up with his long, angry strides."Neven, you're hurting me—""S

LYSANDER'S POV The sunlight hitting my face felt like a personal attack. I groaned, burying my head under a silk pillow that smelled faintly of expensive gin and a stranger’s perfume. My head was thumping in time with a bassline that wouldn't leave my skull, a remnant of the party that had turned my penthouse into a disaster.I forced myself upright, squinting at the wreckage. There was glitter embedded in the velvet sofa, an empty bottle of vintage champagne floating in the sink, and someone’s lace bra hanging off my Grammy."Water," I croaked, my throat feeling dry.I staggered toward the kitchen, nearly tripping over a stray designer shoe. I expected to be alone, but the sound of rhythmic scrubbing stopped me cold. A professional cleaning crew was already moving through the living room, and standing by the island was Merrick.Merrick was my agent, my driver, and occasionally my babysitter. Today, he looked like he was fed up with me more than usual."You look like hell, Ly," Merri

LYSANDER'S POV The 0600 wake-up call was a war crime.I ignored the first three knocks on my bedroom door, burying myself deeper into the cotton sheets. I expected a maid or Merrick to come in and coax me out with coffee. Instead, the door opened with a firm, decisive click."Mr. Zeni. It’s six-oh-five. You’re behind schedule."That voice. It was like a low-frequency hum that vibrated right through the mattress. I pulled the covers down just enough to see Taye standing at the foot of my bed. He was already in his suit, looking crisp and disgustingly alert. He didn't look at the expensive art on my walls or the messy pile of designer clothes on the floor. He just looked at me—or rather, through me."Go away, Taye," I groaned, flipping onto my back and purposely letting the sheets slide down to my waist. I wasn't wearing a shirt. I knew exactly how the morning light hit the lines of my stomach. "I don't do 'schedules' before noon.""You signed a contract," Taye said, his expression unc

LYSANDER'S POV The silence of the estate was starting to feel beyond draining. Three days of playing by the rules, three days of being a "wholesome artist," and three days of being ignored by the giant, tanned mountain of a man who followed me like a shadow. I was bored, and a bored Lysander was a dangerous thing. "You’re overthinking it," Callie said, sprawled across my bed while she buffed her nails. She didn't even look up when I paced past her for the tenth time. "He’s a professional, Ly. You’re just a paycheck in a hoodie to him.""Nobody looks at me and sees a paycheck, Callie," I snapped, stopping in front of the full-length mirror. I pulled at the lapel of my silk robe, letting it slip just a fraction more off my shoulder. "He’s human. He has to be. I just need to find the right frequency to shatter that glass exterior.""So, what’s the plan? More 'accidental' towel slips? Beca