Dark Lord Seduction System: Taming Wives, Daughters, Aunts, and CEOs

Chapter 340: Sleepless Princess and the Hungry Beast

Madison and I had barely crossed the threshold—exhaustion slammed into me like a physical wave, a tidal wave of lead threatening to buckle my knees. The aftershocks of Sofia’s confession, razor-wire strategic planning, the white-hot rage I’d throttled all evening—it wasn’t fatigue. It was annihilation.

A void where my energy used to pulse, cold and hollow.

"You look like hell incarnate," Madison murmured, her hand a brand of warmth against my trembling bicep as we staggered up the stairs. Her scent—clean, familiar, human—a lifeline thrown into a storm. "When’s the last time you really slept?"

I dragged a hand through my hair, thoughts thick as tar, heavy as slate. "Slept? Not just crashed out?" A harsh laugh scraped my throat. "Fuck... days. Maybe a week."

"Peter, that’s not sustainable." Her voice held a quiet worry that only tightened the barbed wire coiling in my gut.

"Sustainable?" I ripped my shirt off, fabric snagging on fevered skin, and collapsed onto the bed. The mattress groaned under my weight. "Since when is anything about this life sustainable? Tomorrow. The penthouse and car shopping plans. No tiptoeing around Mom, no waking the twins. And moving into my place." Every word ground out between clenched teeth.

Madison curled against me, her body a soft, desperate line against my side, her head pillowed on the thundering of my heart. "You mean our place."

"Our place," I echoed, my arm snapping around her, possessive even in this hollow state. "Where we build. Where we expand." The word felt charged, primal. Empire.

But Madison’s warmth, the familiar comfort of my own room—none of it could silence the hurricane screaming inside. My mind wouldn’t stop: Sofia’s tear-streaked face, Emma’s trauma, Charlotte’s brittle exhaustion, Isabella’s quiet desperation, the Miami women waiting... A relentless, grinding litany of responsibility and need.

Ever since Miami... since that death and rebirth in Lust Incarnate... something fundamental had been rewired. The insomnia? Just the first symptom. The system had thrown me back with a cryptic "cooldown" and fucking radio silence. No manual. No warnings. Just this... thing I’d become.

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