Devil's Prisoner of Love by Prefer

Life in Rwas inexplicably relaxing. During the day, Julian went to work, leaving Aurora with an unexpected vacation. She would sleep in, waking naturally, and then spend her texploring. By now, she had wandered through every corner of the city center.

One morning, her phone rang.

"Hello, Gore," Aurora answered, her voice groggy as she sat up in bed, running a hand through her messy hair.

"You still remember me? You're in Europe and didn't even bother to visit? It's only a two-hour flight from Rto Paris," a frustrated male voice retorted on the other end.

"Well, well, someone's keeping tabs on me. Big boss," she teased.

"Of course I am. Not only do I know where you've been, but I also know you designed a custom, one-of-a-kind ruby jewelry set for Candy." "That was supposed to be a secret between her and me. How did you find out?" Aurora asked, intrigued.

"I know Candy too. We ran into each other at an awards gala the other night. The moment I saw that set, I knew it was your work. A little digging confirmed my suspicion." "Big boss, our contract doesn't restrictfrom gifting jewelry to friends. I didn't breach any terms, did I?" Aurora chuckled.

"You heartless woman! Do you think I called to talk about contract violations? My talented designer, now that you've ventured into perfumes, are you planning to abandon your jewelry fans? They're starving for your creations!" Gore's voice was exaggeratedly tic.

This man was none other than Gore, a renowned jewelry tycoon and Aurora's contract partner. His company was among the most prestigious in the world. Years ago, when Aurora's brand, DO, shot to fame, Gore had immediately recognized her talent-and her charm.

Of course, Aurora had turned him down on both counts. Designing was just a hobby for her at the time; she had her own company to establish.

Back then, she was a young woman with no experience, and yet she had the audacity to refuse Gore. He still vividly remembered that moment.

He must have been so shocked that his jaw could've fit a salted duck egg, considering how many renowned designers clamored to join his company. For her, he had bent the rules and personally extended an offer, only to be rejected outright.

Not only did she refuse the job, but she also declined his dinner invitation.

To be fair, Gore was a notorious playboy, always surrounded by eager admirers. But Aurora, with her innocent looks and thorny, rose-like demeanor, had instantly caught his eye.

After failing to win her over, Gore lowered his expectations. Aurora eventually signed a contract with him, but not as a designer for his company.

Instead, it was a unique arrangement: she would remain an independent creator. The company provided the raw materials, and she crafted the pieces, which were then sold through the company's platform. They split the profits.

But Aurora insisted on exclusivity. She claimed her creations were works of art, not commodities. The difference, she said, was that art was rare, while commodities were commonplace.

At first, Gore thought she was crazy-turning down easy money. But to keep her, he agreed to this somewhat humiliating contract.

The terms were clear: he couldn't rush her, alter her designs, mass-produce her work, or reveal her identity. She had complete creative freedom.

Gore reluctantly accepted. But now, six months had passed without a new release from DO. That was why he was calling, hoping to coax this "princess" into action.

"You know how busy I've been in Clothville. The new collection will have to wait until spring," Aurora replied seriously. Although the contract didn't specify deadlines, she felt a bit guilty for the delay.

"Fine. What hotel are you staying at? I'll cpick you up," Gore said, shifting the conversation. "You're in Rome? Business trip?" Aurora asked, surprised.

"What, did you think I'd fly over from Paris just for you? Unless, of course, you agreed to be my girlfriend." "Gore, I'm engaged. Don't joke about things like that," Aurora said firmly. She knew Gore wasn't a bad person; back then, he had only been mildly infatuated with her. But even as a joke, she refused to entertain any ambiguity with other men.

"Alright, alright, no more jokes. Hmph, putting romance before friendship," Gore grumbled, feigning indignation. Of course, he already knew about Aurora and Julian. His sources were impeccable.

Aurora gave him her address and hung up. Gore was one of her few friends, despite how insufferable he had been in the beginning. Over time, their shared passion for design had brought them closer.

After hanging up, Gore smiled wryly. "What if I really did fly all the way from Paris just for you, you heartless woman?" Three years ago, he had learned just how indifferent she could be. He had thought she might end up with Asher, but she had returned hto be with Julian instead.

On the surface, Gore remained the scarefree playboy, changing girlfriends every month. But deep down, he knew there was only one person who truly mattered to him. When he heard she was in Rome, just two hours away by plane, he had booked the earliest flight.

He didn't need much-just to see her, talk to her. That was enough.

If you're loving the book, nel5sis where the adventure continues. Join us for the complete experience ath for free. The next chapter is eagerly waiting for you! She was the only person in the world who could mock and insult him instead of pandering to him. Gore had even consulted a psychologist. "Doctor, I like someone who insults me. Do you think I'm sick?" "Yes, very sick," the psychologist replied bluntly.

"You don't understand. This is love."

m The psychologist had been thoroughly baffled. A notorious playboy, in love? He had even tried to find out who the woman was, but Gore's tabloid headlines were more scandalous by the day. Gore knew he was crazy.

He knew she would never like him, but he still dressed impeccably, hopped into his luxury convertible, and drove to her hotel.

When Aurora saw the sleek sports car and the flamboyant man behind the wheel, she sneered.

"Are you insane? Driving a convertible in the middle of winter? Aren't you afraid of freezing to death?"

Gore had been thrilled to see her, rushing over from his nearby m n apartment in his excitement, he had forgotten to put the top up. Now, hearing her sharp words, he only smiled. He didn't mind being scolded-not by her.

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