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Chapter 14
Last Updated:
2025-02-22 02:21:09
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HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 15
CEDRIC POV The Abernathy estate we called home was a fortress. Built to keep the family close and everyone else out. If you weren’t blood, you had no business being here. Only a trusted few, like Dominic and a handful of loyal family bodyguards, were allowed inside. Even with them, we didn’t take chances. They were watched closely, every move monitored, every belongings checked, because trust in our world was fragile thing and hard to obtain when broken. The estate stretched over acres, a sprawling maze of cobblestone roads, perfectly trimmed hedges, and houses that looked like they came straight out of some rich man’s fantasy. At the center of it all stood the main house, a massive, gray stone structure that loomed like a fortress. It was there that the real decisions were made, the kind that kept the Abernathy name respected, feared and protected. Every condo surrounding it belonged to each member of the family. Mia, my older sister, lived closest to the main house with her two
Last Updated : 2025-02-24HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 16
Lyla POV It's the wedding day. A day I never thought or even dreamed that my very own wedding would be so……empty. Romona and Declan decided we should have a courtroom wedding. Whatever that was, I was really thankful that I wasn't excited to actually know what it was. Or else I would be grieving at my own disappointment. There were no decorations, no flowers, no tearful speeches from family members. Just me and a few strangers who I could barely call family. Declan wasn’t anywhere in sight, and neither was my stepmother. I don’t know if that made me feel any better or worse. The only people I could focus on were the ones who’d come along for the ride. Declan’s family. And to be honest, none of them looked particularly thrilled to be there. His mom sat five benches behind me, arms crossed, with this look on her face like she’d rather be anywhere else but here. Her hair, this perfect ash-black bun, was neatly glued to each other it didn’t even look real. She had on this fancy
Last Updated : 2025-02-25HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 17
I stood outside the judge’s hall, feeling like a complete and utter idiot. I was ditched on my very own wedding day, stuck here alone in a wedding dress that felt like it was a prank. How did I end up like this? This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I was supposed to be getting married, getting my debts paid and fulfilling my own part of the contract. Not standing here looking like a fool. I bit back my tears, swallowing it whole. I wasn’t going to let anyone see me fall apart, especially not in public. People walked past me, some barely sparing a glance, while others openly stared with questions written all over their faces. A bride with no groom. A girl in a wedding dress, alone, abandoned, standing there like she was waiting for someone to come back for her. But no one would. There were never plans for anyone to begin with, I was just too dumb to know it. I had nothing—no money, no phone, no way to get home. The irony made my stomach twist, and the anxiety made my head spin. Bu
Last Updated : 2025-03-02HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 18
I wasn’t sure what I was looking at, and I didn’t dare turn around and walk away. My breath hitched in my throat, body frozen, mind barely registering what the hell was happening right in front of me. The room stank of sweat, alcohol, and betrayal. Thick moans filled the air, bouncing off the walls like some twisted symphony of sin. Romona and Declan twisted in tangled sheets, their bodies pressed together in a disgusting, feverish display of lust. Her nails scraped down his back, his fingers digging into her thighs, their voices a mess of panting and desperate whimpers. The sheer audacity of it all upsets my stomach. Scattered across the floor, empty bottles of champagne and red wine lay discarded. Their clothes lay in a crumpled heap, completely useless. A half-empty glass of red wine sat still on the nightstand, the deep red liquid inside looking like blood. A slow drip of melted ice pooled beneath it, soaking into the expensive wood, much like my sanity soaking into the floor
Last Updated : 2025-03-03HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 19
I stood there, frozen, as Romona swirled the champagne in her glass, and Declan leaned against the wall with that smug, bored look on his face. I couldn’t breathe. My stomach twisted painfully, my heart thudding in my chest. I wanted to scream, wanted to throw something, anything, at them, but my body refused to cooperate. This was it. This was my life now. A lie. “What do you mean?”My voice came out hoarse, like I’d been screaming for hours. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking from the amount of rage bottled up.“What do you mean the contract is worthless?”Declan rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by my lack of comprehension. “Oh, for God’s sake, Lyla. Haven’t you been listening?”I shook my head so hard I probably looked possessed. "No. I have." I stopped, sucking in a shaky breath, mentally begging myself not to lose my shit. "I’m just surprised by the amount of bullshit you can spat all at once." Declan let out a cold, amused chuckle. Yeah, laugh it up, asshole but I wasn’t
Last Updated : 2025-03-04HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 20
CEDRIC’S POV“One… two… three…Four…” A burst of giggles echoed through the condo as two sets of tiny feet scampered away against the hardwood floors. I kept my hands over my eyes, counting slow, dragging it out just to make them sweat a little. “Five…Six…Seven…Eight” A thump. A muffled whisper. More giggles. I smirked. “Nine…Ten…” I dropped my hands and turned, scanning the room. “Alright, little troublemakers,” I said, stepping forward. “Let’s see where you think you can hide from me.” Silence. Lexi and Aria were good at this game. Too good. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Dominic had been secretly training them in stealth like tiny assassins. I moved through the living room area, eyes sweeping across the room. The couch was a decent hiding spot, but these two weren’t amateurs. No tiny feet sticking out, no shifting cushions. The curtains were another possibility. They pooled slightly at the bottom, just enough to hide two small figures if they scrunched up t
Last Updated : 2025-03-05HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 21
We slipped inside one after the other, making sure the door clicked shut quietly behind us. The inside was… not what I expected. The Alvadores were all about flaunting their wealth—big houses, flashy cars, everything screaming, Look at me, I’m rich. I figured this place would be the same—over-the-top, too much. But it wasn’t. It looked expensive, I had to admit, but in a way that spoke of quality rather than excess. The living room was bathed in soft beige, the dark wood floors polished to a gleam, like they’d been buffed just yesterday. The lighting cast a warm glow, making the space feel inviting, almost as if the room itself was wrapping around you. Real Persian rugs. Handcrafted wood beams stretching across the ceiling. Oversized leather furniture arranged just right, like a designer had orchestrated the setup. A crackling fireplace in the corner, adding to the coziness. Our target wasn’t like the rest of the Alvadores—at least not in how they spent their wealth. But ju
Last Updated : 2025-03-06HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 22
Rafael broke the silence first. His voice was steady. He didn’t look rattled, just assessing the situation. "How do you know who I am?" His eyes flickered slightly out of share curiosity. "And what the hell do you want?" I leaned back, arms crossed, watching the cracks form in his calm facade. The fact that he was asking questions meant one thing—I had his attention. "Not the right questions, Rafael, but I’ll bite.” I said, smirking. “I’m the guy you owe a lot of money to." Rafael didn’t flinch. "Which one?" That made me chuckle. Now he had my attention. "There’s more of us?" "A couple. It’s hard rebuilding after staging a coup d'etat against your own brother." He stood up, walked to the bar in the far corner of the living room, grabbed two glasses and a bottle of Royal Vintage wine. Setting them on the table, he poured me a glass and slid it forward. I eyed him, then the drink. "Poison isn’t my specialty," he said. I took a sip. Rich and Smooth for somethi
Last Updated : 2025-03-07
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HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 25
Cedric’s POV Long before I ever set foot in Philadelphia, long before my siblings and I managed to escape our father’s control, there was my mother. She had this obsession with porcelain dolls—beautiful, delicate little things to the point she became a hoarder. Having a specific room to keep all her collection. My mother wasn’t strong. After giving birth to Catherine, she lost the ability to walk. My father, as usual, didn’t care, always left her locked away in her room. With nothing else to focus on, she started making these dolls. I remember the way she smiled every time she finished painting one. She would show them to me every time I visited, and no matter how tired she looked, she’d beam like she had just done something amazing. Alec used to think they were creepy, and Mia didn’t really think much of them. But to me, they were beautiful, fragile little things. And oddly, there was this strange excitement that built inside me every time I touched them, the urge to want to
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 24
I’m frozen in place, staring up at the woman who’s holding my face. Her touch is soft, almost gentle, but there’s something in her amber eyes that makes my stomach twist. She’s studying me, like she’s trying to figure me out, and that unsettling feeling grows stronger by the second. She wipes away the tears still clinging to my cheek with her rough finger but her grip never loosens. I need to run. I need to get the hell out of here. But my body won’t listen. My legs feel like jelly, my hands won’t stop shaking, and my chest is so tight I can barely breathe. The weight of everything held me petrified on the spot.The woman tilts her head slightly, her gaze locked onto mine. “You’re trembling,” she murmurs, her voice soft but focused as she looks me over. She tilts my head slightly, her fingers brushing over my temple.“Your head injury looks okay,” she says, checking for any swelling. Her hands move down, gently pressing along my shoulders, then my arms, as if making sure nothin
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 23
LYLA’S POVSomething’s off. I feel it before I even open my eyes.The air around me carried the scent of leather, faint cologne, and something smoky—like an expensive cigar had burned out hours ago. This isn’t my vanilla butterscotch bedroom. That thought alone is enough to shake me fully awake. My eyelids felt heavy, my head pulsing with a persistent ache and my body seems to have a mind of its own.But I force my blurry eyes to focus. The first thing I see is the ceiling. High, vaulted, with intricate gold trim running along its edges. A chandelier hangs above me, its crystals catching what little light coming from the opened window. Not mine. I shift, and the softest whisper of fabric reaches my ears. Silk sheets covering the bed underneath me. It’s massive. The mattress plushed enough to swallow me whole. Then covered in blankets that feel like they belong in a five-star hotel. Not mine either.The room itself has dark toned walls, heavy velvet curtains, and furnit
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 22
Rafael broke the silence first. His voice was steady. He didn’t look rattled, just assessing the situation. "How do you know who I am?" His eyes flickered slightly out of share curiosity. "And what the hell do you want?" I leaned back, arms crossed, watching the cracks form in his calm facade. The fact that he was asking questions meant one thing—I had his attention. "Not the right questions, Rafael, but I’ll bite.” I said, smirking. “I’m the guy you owe a lot of money to." Rafael didn’t flinch. "Which one?" That made me chuckle. Now he had my attention. "There’s more of us?" "A couple. It’s hard rebuilding after staging a coup d'etat against your own brother." He stood up, walked to the bar in the far corner of the living room, grabbed two glasses and a bottle of Royal Vintage wine. Setting them on the table, he poured me a glass and slid it forward. I eyed him, then the drink. "Poison isn’t my specialty," he said. I took a sip. Rich and Smooth for somethi
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 21
We slipped inside one after the other, making sure the door clicked shut quietly behind us. The inside was… not what I expected. The Alvadores were all about flaunting their wealth—big houses, flashy cars, everything screaming, Look at me, I’m rich. I figured this place would be the same—over-the-top, too much. But it wasn’t. It looked expensive, I had to admit, but in a way that spoke of quality rather than excess. The living room was bathed in soft beige, the dark wood floors polished to a gleam, like they’d been buffed just yesterday. The lighting cast a warm glow, making the space feel inviting, almost as if the room itself was wrapping around you. Real Persian rugs. Handcrafted wood beams stretching across the ceiling. Oversized leather furniture arranged just right, like a designer had orchestrated the setup. A crackling fireplace in the corner, adding to the coziness. Our target wasn’t like the rest of the Alvadores—at least not in how they spent their wealth. But ju
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 20
CEDRIC’S POV“One… two… three…Four…” A burst of giggles echoed through the condo as two sets of tiny feet scampered away against the hardwood floors. I kept my hands over my eyes, counting slow, dragging it out just to make them sweat a little. “Five…Six…Seven…Eight” A thump. A muffled whisper. More giggles. I smirked. “Nine…Ten…” I dropped my hands and turned, scanning the room. “Alright, little troublemakers,” I said, stepping forward. “Let’s see where you think you can hide from me.” Silence. Lexi and Aria were good at this game. Too good. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Dominic had been secretly training them in stealth like tiny assassins. I moved through the living room area, eyes sweeping across the room. The couch was a decent hiding spot, but these two weren’t amateurs. No tiny feet sticking out, no shifting cushions. The curtains were another possibility. They pooled slightly at the bottom, just enough to hide two small figures if they scrunched up t
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 19
I stood there, frozen, as Romona swirled the champagne in her glass, and Declan leaned against the wall with that smug, bored look on his face. I couldn’t breathe. My stomach twisted painfully, my heart thudding in my chest. I wanted to scream, wanted to throw something, anything, at them, but my body refused to cooperate. This was it. This was my life now. A lie. “What do you mean?”My voice came out hoarse, like I’d been screaming for hours. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking from the amount of rage bottled up.“What do you mean the contract is worthless?”Declan rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by my lack of comprehension. “Oh, for God’s sake, Lyla. Haven’t you been listening?”I shook my head so hard I probably looked possessed. "No. I have." I stopped, sucking in a shaky breath, mentally begging myself not to lose my shit. "I’m just surprised by the amount of bullshit you can spat all at once." Declan let out a cold, amused chuckle. Yeah, laugh it up, asshole but I wasn’t
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 18
I wasn’t sure what I was looking at, and I didn’t dare turn around and walk away. My breath hitched in my throat, body frozen, mind barely registering what the hell was happening right in front of me. The room stank of sweat, alcohol, and betrayal. Thick moans filled the air, bouncing off the walls like some twisted symphony of sin. Romona and Declan twisted in tangled sheets, their bodies pressed together in a disgusting, feverish display of lust. Her nails scraped down his back, his fingers digging into her thighs, their voices a mess of panting and desperate whimpers. The sheer audacity of it all upsets my stomach. Scattered across the floor, empty bottles of champagne and red wine lay discarded. Their clothes lay in a crumpled heap, completely useless. A half-empty glass of red wine sat still on the nightstand, the deep red liquid inside looking like blood. A slow drip of melted ice pooled beneath it, soaking into the expensive wood, much like my sanity soaking into the floor
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 17
I stood outside the judge’s hall, feeling like a complete and utter idiot. I was ditched on my very own wedding day, stuck here alone in a wedding dress that felt like it was a prank. How did I end up like this? This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I was supposed to be getting married, getting my debts paid and fulfilling my own part of the contract. Not standing here looking like a fool. I bit back my tears, swallowing it whole. I wasn’t going to let anyone see me fall apart, especially not in public. People walked past me, some barely sparing a glance, while others openly stared with questions written all over their faces. A bride with no groom. A girl in a wedding dress, alone, abandoned, standing there like she was waiting for someone to come back for her. But no one would. There were never plans for anyone to begin with, I was just too dumb to know it. I had nothing—no money, no phone, no way to get home. The irony made my stomach twist, and the anxiety made my head spin. Bu
