Gearbound: Cyberpunk 2077 - Chapter 8

Lady Bertia, who’s become my fiancée, is a bit odd. On our first meeting, she proclaimed herself a villainess noble girl who’s been reincarnated and said that she’s working hard every day to become a splendid flower of evil that’s elegantly put in her place.

I don’t get it.

But she entertains me because I don’t understand.

That’s why I think I’ll observe her for a while.

This is a story of a crown prince who’s so talented and handsome that he’s grown bored of his easy-mode life. A story of this prince observing a self-proclaimed villainess noble girl (who seems perfect at first but is a bit off) who’s become his fiancée as she snatches flags and breaks them into pieces.

In the second year of marriage, Yvette Thiel was pregnant.Yvette was full of joy, but she got a divorce agreement.In a car accident, Yvette lay in a pool of blood and begged Lance Wolseley to save their child, but Lance left with his sweetheart in his arms.Yvette was disheartened and slowly closed her eyes.Later, it was heard that Lance from New York had a taboo name, and no one could mention it.At the wedding, Lance suddenly went crazy. He knelt on the ground and looked at the cruel woman with red eyes. “You are pregnant with my child. Who do you want to marry?”

It's simple. A vengeful wildfire of a woman. A tyrant who begs to be burned.When Aria crashes into Kael’s empire, hellbent on making him pay for taking her job away, she’s met not with defiance—but a dare. “You want revenge?” he taunts, voice dripping with dark invitation.“Then ruin me. Take your pound of flesh exactly where it hurts.” His proposition is a trap laced with sin: As expected he calls the shots in his bed, her contempt is his twisted aphrodisiac.“Hate me until your hands shake,” he growls. “But do it on top of me, where I can watch you savor every cut.”Their arrangement is a collision of dominance and delirium. Aria wields her fury like a blade, determined to break him. Kael? He thrives under her wrath, goading her darker, deeper, hungrier.But vengeance turns slippery when every command she hisses ignites his obedience, and every cold glare melts into bruising kisses. Soon, the bed becomes a battleground—her nails carving victory into his skin, his whispers a serpent’s promise: “Chain me with your rage, darling. I’ll still come back for more.”The rules are simple: No mercy. No surrender. But as their games spiral into something ravenous, who’s destroying whom? And when hatred burns this hot, what’s left when the ashes cool?