LOGINShare
Chapter 2
Last Updated:
2024-12-31 21:47:21"Shut your whimpering Carter, or you'll lose more than just a finger.”
The guy with the knife, ordered while pressing his boot harder against the man’s fingers. The sickening crack of bone followed by a strangled cry. The man on the ground, Carter, was soaked in sweat, blood streaking down his face. Bruises swelled across it. I swallowed hard, crouched behind a crumbling wall, praying they wouldn’t see me.
“You owe us money, Carter,”
The man with the cigarette piped up, voice dripping with Arrogance. Clearly the leader of the lot.
Debt collectors. That explained a lot. But their methods? Far too brutal to be considered ordinary. Were they gansters?
“I know,”
Carter choked out, his voice breaking.
“I swear I’ll get you the money….just give me time!”
“Time?”
The one with the gun chuckled, his laughter sounded dark and terrifying.
“We’re fresh out of that,”
He said, the sound of his gun clicked.
Carter was now yanked upright by his collar and slammed hard to a nearby wall. A glint of steel pressed against Carter’s neck, and tears leaked down his face. He whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Please, please… I had the money,” Carter gasped desperately.
“I did! But then…I lost some. I had to pay rent and other stuff came up! I’ll get double what I owe you, I promise!”
“Double? You couldn’t pay the first dime, and now you’re spouting fairy tales about double?”
The one with the cigarette snorted, smoke curling around his face.
“Word’s gotten around, Carter,”
the gun guy chimed in, a cruel grin splitting his face.
“You’ve been gambling like you’ve got gold stashed somewhere. Lost every penny, didn’t you? That’s the ‘other stuff’ you’re talking about?”
“No, no! That’s not true!”
Carter cried, shaking his head frantically.
“I wasn’t gambling! I... I was just trying to double my money so I could pay you back all at once! I thought—”
“You thought?”
The knife guy laughed mockingly.
“You thought you'd get lucky and hit the jackpot? That's your big plan?”
Carter’s breath hitched as he tried to explain.
“I…I just wanted to pay you back, all at once. You know, a win-win situation. If I could just make enough, it would clear the debt and—”
“You’re an idiot, Carter…..”
The cigarette guy commended.
“Losing your last paycheck on some poker game?”
“Please, just give me more time! I’ll pay you back! Every cent!”
Carter wailed, tears streaming down his bloodied face.
“We gave you time Carter, and you used it all up,”
The gun guy chuckled darkly.
“You ran out of that when you placed your first bet. Don’t make promises that’ll get your organs sold, Carter,”
the guy with the gun taunted, his grin a little too wide.
“You like staying alive, don’t you?”
“I do! I—I really do!”
The next sound was a sickening thud, a fist to Carter’s gut, and then a wail that rang through the building. My pulse thundered in my ears.
“Get Boss his money or else you'll have to keep running for the rest of your life.”
the leader said, tone cold.
“This is nothing compared to what the boss is going to do to you. After he's done, you’ll wish we were the worst of it.”
Their laughter echoed in unison. Carter slumped to the ground, gasping, clearly mortified and unaware of his fate. As for me I knew I'd be a goner If they saw me eavesdropping…
"For god’s sake, Lyla! It’s always one thing after another."
I’d been cursing myself for the past ten minutes.First it was Matthew. Now I'm dealing with sadistic task collector. Why did I pick this abandoned construction site as a shortcut home? If I’d known this was going to happen, I would’ve taken the long way around. This was all Matthew’s fault.
Carter’s pitiful cries tugged at something in me. I knew what drowning in debt felt like, desperate, suffocating, but at least I’d never gotten tangled up with these kinds of people. Mobsters. Ruthless as they came, scarier than every whispered story I’d heard as a kid.
But Carter’s problems weren’t mine. Mine involved sneaking out of here without getting my face plastered all over their “missing persons” hit list.
Think, Lyla. Think.
I scanned the open space. An unfinished window on the far end. That was my out. It was a long way to bolt, but I didn’t have a choice. Slowly, I shifted back. One step. Two.
Clatter!
My foot nudged a loose brick, and the sound echoed like a gunshot through the silent room. I froze, lungs locked tight as three heads snapped in my direction.
“Who’s there?”
The leader’s voice was sharp, slicing through the dark.
Silence. Maybe they’d think it was just—
“WHO THE FUCK IS THERE?”
he roared.
Run!!
My brain screamed. Before I could think twice. I bolted, heels pounding against the unfinished stairwell.
“GET HER!”
The shout ricocheted behind me. I didn’t dare look back. My heart raced as I sprinted for the window. The ground floor loomed closer, but I didn’t stop. I hit the edge and leapt, landing hard and stumbling forward. My lungs burned.
Keep running. Don’t look back. Keep running. Don't look back.
I muttered to myself. Chatting it like I was in a hypnosis.
I tore through the half-lit construction site, the shouts and footsteps growing louder behind me. Taking a sharp turn, I collided headfirst into something solid.
Air knocked from my chest. I stumbled back, gasping, struggling to catch my breath.
It wasn’t a wall. It was a man.
And he was tall. Stupidly tall.
I tilted my head up, my breath hitching as I took him in. Piercing gray eyes met mine with an intimidating glare, my insides twisted fearfully. He stood there, calm, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The tattoos on his forearms snaked up his skin, dark and impossible to miss.
A deep growl rumbled from him.
“I—I’m s-sorry,”
I stammered, barely hiding how nerves wracking I was.
He didn’t say anything. Just stared, like he could see right through me. The footsteps were getting closer, and panic hit me hard. Without thinking, I shoved past him and slipped between the stacks of cement bags.
I pressed myself into the shadows, my hands shaking.
Please don’t see me. Please don’t see me.
“Boss!”
I heard them call and my stomach dropped like a rock. I'm screwed.
“You’re early tonight,”
one of them said, his voice shaky.
“Does it matter?”
The guy, their Boss replied, his tone smooth yet deep that I coytell his throat rumbled.
“N-No! Not at all!”
The Boss tilted his head slightly, his gray eyes scanning through them.
“So, what exactly were you chasing?”
One of the goons fumbled for words.
“Uh—there was a girl. Tiny thing. We thought maybe we should grab her, y’know… just in case she saw something.”
The Boss’s gaze didn’t budge.
“And what about the job I gave you?”
“Bobby’s handling it, Boss! We just—”
“You just what?, thought you could slack off,”
the Boss interrupted, his voice turning cold.
“Do I look like I’m paying you to screw around?”
“N-No, Boss! We didn’t mean—”
“Let me make something clear: I don’t keep dead weight. If you screw up again, you’re not walking away. Understood?”
The two of them paled instantly.
“Yes, Boss! Got it, Boss!”
“Good.”
He flicked his hand toward them, dismissive but final.
“Now fuck off and get back to work before putting a bullet in each of you.”
“Yes, Boss!”
They nearly tripped over themselves trying to get away, their footsteps echoing as they disappeared into the distance.
For a moment, I couldn’t move. I just froze. Contemplating my next move. Then a steady voice called out to me through the silence.
“You can come out now.”
My blood turned cold. I guess this is the day I die.
I peeked out from my hiding spot to catch a glimpse of him and there he was. The tall, gray-eyed guy. I was those butterfly being pinned under glass, and I swear I forgot how to breathe.
Slowly, I stepped out, gripping my backpack like it could shield me.
“I—I’m sorry,”
I blurted, my voice shaky.
He just stared at me for a sec, not saying anything. Then, to my surprise, he bent down to my level. And, that definitely made things worse. He was ridiculously good-looking. Pale skin, sharp jaw, perfect nose, and those cold gray eyes that seemed to tell me they would like me dead.
I felt my face heat up, and I couldn’t help but hate myself a little. Seriously? Now’s when I notice he’s good-looking?. Thankfully I did see something beautiful before I die.
“You would’ve gotten yourself killed tonight kid,”
he said finally while his eyes scanned my face.
“You’re lucky it was me they ran into.”
I swallowed hard, my throat dry.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“What were you doing here, kid?”
“Taking a shortcut,”
I mumbled, staring at my shoes.
“It’s not like I knew they’d be here…”
“Shortcut through a dead-end construction site? At this hour?”
His tone had a hint of disbelief, and his eyes narrowed just enough to make me squirm.
“I—uh…”
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. He was right. It was a dumb move.
He let out a sharp sigh and reached into his pocket. I flinched hard, my entire body bracing for the worst. But instead of a knife or something worse, he pulled out a wad of cash. He tossed it at my feet.
I blinked. “What—?”
“Two hundred grand,”
he said flatly.
“Take it and go home.”
I stared at the money like it might explode.
“Why are you—?”
“Because I don’t have time to drag your body out of here if you get caught up in something again.”
His tone was so casual, like he was commenting on the weather.
“Now move. Fuck off before I change my mind.”
That was all I needed to hear. I scrambled to grab the cash, my fingers fumbling over the bills, and backed away.
“Uh… thanks. I guess?”
He didn’t reply, just watched me with that unreadable look until I turned and bolted, my heart pounding so hard I thought it’d burst.
Related chapters
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 3
’m rich, I’m filthy rich,” I yelled to myself as I walked down the street, heading to the hospital. Well, I wasn’t really rich, but the cash I got today would cover about 10% of my dad’s hospital bills. The night air was cold, and I remembered how soaked I’d been a few hours ago. Now, I could feel the chill creeping up my spine.I’m freezing, starving, and about to pass out, but at least I didn’t get a bullet in the head. I’m still holding onto some dumb bit of luck, even if it’s just the rabbit’s toe. I escaped that mess without too much trouble, somehow.Brookstone Hospital’s red lights lit up in the distance as I walked closer. When I pushed through the automatic doors, I saw a woman tugging at her screaming six-year-old daughter, begging her to come along. The little girl wanted to see her daddy, but her mom was crying, looking like she was trying to hold it together. Eventually, the mom snapped and lifted the kid up like a bag of groceries, pushing her way out of the hospital. I
Last Updated : 2024-12-31HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 4
Cedric POV The car reeked of bleach, blood, and that sharp, metallic copper smell that always comes with the mess. It was in the air, in the seats, even in the damn leather. I leaned back in the plush seat of the Bentley, pulling off my gloves and wiping my hands with a damp cloth. It didn’t do much. The scent was there, lingering in the fabric no matter how many times I tried to scrub it out. It stuck to everything, a constant reminder of the shit I have to deal with. “Boss,” Dominic said, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. “You’ve got blood on your collar.” I looked down, seeing the dark smear just below my tie. Great. Another shirt ruined. “Thanks for the heads-up,” I muttered, grabbing a cleaner rag from the seat next to me. “Figured I’d mention it before you get home and scare the crap out of the twins,” Dominic added. That made me pause. “Shit, I forgot they’re staying over tonight.” “Yeah, man. You think Mia wants to explain to her six-year-olds w
Last Updated : 2025-01-13HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 5
“Over here, kid, we need more beer!” A man dressed in a business suit that seemed to be missing more buttons on his shirt called out. Half drunk and half his sanity gone, he called out to me like I owed him something. I mean, I did—his freaking beer. “Coming!” I yelled back, picking up a tray containing four bottles of Budweiser and rushing to whoever ordered them. The jolly fat man had dropped his tie on the table and jugged down the last drop of his previous drink. That was the fifth one already and the third order he was requesting. A file laid bare on the table, carelessly, while he struggled to open the next bottle of his to drown in. Poor guy must have had a tough day. “LYLA!” I heard across the crowd of customers. “Lyla! We got an order for tables ten, four, and seven. Stop daydreaming and come help over here!” “Coming!” I yelled back, rushing to my post. Why the heck was the pub so packed tonight? It’s the middle of the week. Don’t these people have homes or wor t
Last Updated : 2025-01-15HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 6
“Lyla, your father is dead.” My breath hitched, and for a second, I wasn’t sure if I was even breathing at all. The room tilted slightly, as if the ground had shifted beneath me. I stared at her, searching for a flicker of remorse, some sign of regret. Maybe she was joking, trying to toy with my emotions but Romona’s expression was unreadable. Her voice was calm, almost too calm, as if she were delivering news about the damn weather. “You’re lying,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Her crimson lips curved into a faint smile, but there was no warmth in it. “I’m not in the habit of lying, Lyla. You know that about me by now”Romona tilted her head, her dark blue eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t say……Triumph? Pity? No, not pity. She’d never wasted that on me before.“Why would I lie about something like that?” she continued coolly. Adjusting her perfectly blond bun hair. “The hospital contacted me yesterday. They said they’d been trying to reach you, but you’re i
Last Updated : 2025-01-15HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 7
It was well past midnight by the time I finally dragged myself up the rickety stairs to my apartment. The hallway light was flickering again, making the already depressing place feel even more like a scene out of a horror movie. Room 304. My front door had a well cased dish wrapped in foil, waiting for me. My mind instantly went to Mrs lauretta, the landlady. She was a sweet lovely lady in her late forties who genuinely cared about me. Dropping off dinner at my door steps once in a while. And today was no different. Guilty cause though, remembering that I still owed her rent yet she is still as nice as ever. Picking up dinner, I dug into my bag for the key and Instarted it. Wiggling till I hear the click from the door lock and shoved the door open with my shoulder, pushing my way through.Home sweet home or whatever you’d call this dump. The smell of stale air mixed with a hint of dampness tugged my nostrils. That off smell that never seemed to leave, no matter how many times I
Last Updated : 2025-01-17HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 8
The restaurant was ridiculously fancy. Marble floors that shone like mirrors, gold-trimmed walls, and a chandelier so massive it looked like it belonged in a palace. The tables were draped in crisp white linens, with crystal glasses and polished silverware neatly arranged like they were expecting royalty. Even the waiters gilded around like they were trained in a dance studio. I tugged at the gold dress Romona had shoved me into. It sparkled under the soft lights, but it didn’t fit right. It was unbearably tight at the waist, loose at the bust, and itching like hell. Fuck, it felt like I was sharing the dress with a bunch of termites it made my skin crawl. My dark brown hair was pulled into a neat bun, with a couple of Romona’s sparkly hairpins stuck in to make it look fancier than it really was. I mean it meant to look that fancy, seeing that we spent three whole hours on the damn hair. The whole place screamed luxury, and I felt like I was the only one who didn’t belong. The marb
Last Updated : 2025-01-19HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 9
I never realized just how much I hated hospitals until I’d had a few days away from them. The smell of antiseptic hit me the second I walked in, sharp and cold, like it was trying to scrub away any trace of bacteria life existing. Just being back here made my skin crawl. Hospitals have this way of making you feel small, like you don’t belong unless you’re bleeding or wearing a badge. Or better yet, dead.“Name?” the receptionist asked without looking up, her fingers flying over the keyboard like she had somewhere better to be. Ms Rachel isn't on duty today. Having her around made me feel at ease and I won't have to feel so nervous about coming in to sign off his cremation process. I Miss her already,“Lyla Harrison,” I said, gripping the edge of the counter. “I have an appointment. I’m supposed to sign some papers for a…. Diseased family…. member.” Her eyes flicked up briefly, her expression as from being bored to somewhat remorseful as it was polite. She handed me a clipboard,
Last Updated : 2025-01-22HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 10
The moment the automatic door closed behind me, I crunched down on myself and silently screamed.That was fucking humiliating.Ms. Rachel was really sweet for trying her best to comfort me after my little crybaby meltdown. She stayed by me till I was able to feel a bit better. But of course, it didn’t stop there. Apparently, we had an audience watching nearby. A couple of old granny had been sitting and watching the whole thing, and as soon as Ms. Rachel finished, they swooped in like they’d been waiting their turn. One of them patted my arm with a warm smile and said, “Oh, sweetheart, we’ve all been there. If you haven’t cried in public yet, you’re not living.” Obviously aware I was uncomfortable and ultimately embarrassed at my situation.I stared at her, caught somewhere between mortified and amused. Before I could even process it, her friend chimed in, cracking some joke about how they’d seen worse meltdowns at church bake sales and bingo night fiasco. And, honestly? It worke
Last Updated : 2025-01-25
Latest chapter
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 30
LYLA POV Sharp whispers pulled me from my deep sleep. My eyelids felt heavy, and a migraine started to kick in. But I could still make out the sound of two girls bickering back and forth. "I'm telling you, we should leave! Mama said not to bother her," one of them whispered urgently. Her voice was softer, nervous. "And I'm telling you, if we leave now and she wakes up alone, we'll be in bigger trouble!" the other shot back, stubbornly, I managed to pry my eyes open, squinting against the pale light seeping through the curtains. At the foot of the bed sat two little girls. They looked exactly the same from head to toe—round faces, messy brown hair falling to their shoulders, and expressions that mirrored each other in a strangely cute way. The only differences were the colors of their dresses and their eyes. One had bright amber eyes, almost like Cathy's, and wore a green sundress with tiny white flowers. The other had light blue eyes that reminded me of clear skies, dre
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 29
CEDRIC POV The meeting with Alec dragged on way longer than it should have. Cathy got back to finding me and Alec still arguing about how to handle the illegal organ buyers. It wasn’t something new between me and Alec. We never did see eye to eye. I was the blunt, straightforward type, the kind who dealt with problems quickly and left no room for loose ends. Alec, though? She liked mind games, dragging things out, playing the diplomatic route to gain control. It was exhausting to say the least.We were the opposite of eachother but worked so well non the less.Business with Alec never wrapped up smoothly. She had a knack for stretching out what should’ve been quick discussions, pissing the shit out of me. Cathy took the initiative to handle the list of organ buyers we got from Rafael. I didn’t have to worry—she always got answers in the most terrifying way possible. By the time someone thought to lie, she’d already torn them apart. Meanwhile, Alec kept ranting about the shipment
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 28
The evening passed in a blur, the silence of my new reality stretching uncomfortably. I spent most of it sitting on the bed, staring at the walls, half-expecting to wake up and realize this was all just a nightmare. My mind spun, grasping at any possible way out, but every thought led to the same dead end—I was trapped. I had no idea how long I sat there before a knock stopped my train thoughts. The door creaked open, and Bella stepped inside. "It's time for your bath," she said, her voice polite but firm. "And we need to change your head bandage." I stood up slowly, my muscles stiff from being motionless for so long. "Where’s the bathroom? I can handle it," I muttered, already walking toward the door. Bella tilted her head slightly, as if she had expected my response. "I'm here to attend to all your needs, so I'll be doing the cleaning and changing." I blinked at her. Did I hear that right? "I can bathe myself," I said, sharper this time. "I know. But it's my jo
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 27
Lyla’s POVThe door shut softly behind me, and I stood there for a second, trying to catch my breath. I had no idea where to go, no idea what to do next. All I could feel was the cold air in the hallway, the same coldness that had been in his office.Cathy walked ahead of me, her steps quick and steady. I struggled to keep up, my feet aching with every step. It felt like she was miles ahead, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t catch up. Finally, Cathy stopped and turned around, noticing how much I was struggling. She waited for me to get closer before starting to walk again, this time slower, matching my pace.Every step down the long hallway echoed in my ears. My arms were still wrapped around myself, my fingers gripping the fabric of my sleeves so tightly that my knuckles ached. I didn’t know how I was still standing. I should have collapsed back there. I should have screamed, fought, or maybe faked something. But all I did was nod and obey. Because I was scared. Because he w
HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 26
Lyla’s POV I swallowed, but my throat felt dry, and the lump wouldn’t go away. My whole body went stiff, frozen in place by his touch. Cedric's hand on my chin wasn’t rough—firm, but not rough. His thumb rested just under my jaw, forcing me to tilt my head up, making me look at him. I didn’t want to. I wanted to look at the floor, at the walls—anywhere but him. But I couldn’t. His gray eyes were locked onto mine, unreadable, cold, terrifying. But at the same time… mesmerizing. Like something from a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from, but you couldn’t look away either. My intrusive thoughts screamed at me— ‘don’t move’. They blared louder than my heartbeat, warning me that this man was as dangerous as his gaze. If I moved even a little, he could break my neck as easily as snapping a twig. One small twist and that would be it. The thought made it hard to breathe, tightening around me until it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. “Am I clear, little doll?” H
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
