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Chapter 9
Last Updated:
2025-01-22 05:02:49
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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 : 2025-01-25HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 11
CEDRIC POVPhiladelphia was a grand city, no doubt about it. But underneath all that old cobblestone alleys to the shiny skyscrapers downtown, was a battleground. A perfect place to run every dirty business under the radar. Each family had their slice of the pie, and the fight to keep it never stopped. The Alvadores ran the south like royalty. Old money, old connections, and a smug sense of entitlement to go with it. They didn’t need to flaunt their power; their wealth and ties to the city’s elite spoke loud enough. They enjoyed leaving all the dirty work to their dogs and lived a life where they couldn't care less of who is involved or not. All they wanted was control, and never cared how messy things got to get it. So long their reputation was still intact.The Vendicare family couldn’t have been more different. Bold, loud, and unapologetically reckless. They thrived on chaos and made sure everyone knew it. Every move they made reminded the world that they had power, and they knew
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I’d already been running for a while, far enough that my lungs were burning and my legs felt like they might give out. For a second, I thought maybe I was in the clear. The streets were quiet, except for the sound of my own feets stomping as I ran. Then the sound of gunshots cracked through the air behind me. My heart jumped into my throat, and I almost tripped out of fear. I didn’t stop to look back, just pushed myself to keep going, even though my chest felt like it was about to explode. I tripped over a root sticking out of the dirt and hit the ground hard, scraping my hands on the gravel. My knee throbbed and tears threatened to leak out. I cursed at myself, forcing my legs to keep moving even though they were at their limits. My mind ran wild with endless questions. What if he was dead?What if someone found him before he had a chance to escape?Why was he in samucha a bad state? Why does he keep saving me in odd situations?What if I could’ve done something?The guilt wa
Last Updated : 2025-02-17HIS BROKEN PLAYTHING Chapter 13
Late that night, I found myself kneeling in the dim light of my dingy apartment, a half-packed duffle bag splayed open on the floor. There wasn’t much to pack, just clothes, and not even many of those. My wardrobe was a patchwork of secondhand finds, worn out from years of stretching every penny toward my father’s medical bills and the mountain of debt I’d been left to carry. I couldn’t afford to want more or to dream of anything beyond survival. Romona cleared her throat. “Is this really all you have?” Her tone, blunt, almost indifferent. With her legs crossed, lipstick and mirror in hand. She adjusted her lips and patched them together without even giving me a glance.I, in return, didn’t bother looking up. “What does it look like?” I replied, stuffing a pair of jeans into the bag. “It looks depressing,” she claps the mirror shot before stuffing her items into her leopard bag. “And don’t take that the wrong way. I’m just being honest.” I zipped the duffle shut and sat b
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The clinking of my fork against the porcelain plate was the only sound in the room. I couldn’t even taste the food anymore, not with the tension choking the air. Declan’s words hung between us, and the suffocating feeling caused me indigestion.“Next week?” I asked, staring at Declan like he’d lost his mind, because he has. “I know it’s sudden,” Declan said, his tone trying to sound casual but that trick isn't going to work on me.“But it’s necessary. The situation changed.” “Changed how?” I demanded. “We agreed on three months, not one. I just moved in, few hours ago, without even being told about it in advance! Now you want me to marry you next week? That’s insane!” Ramona sighed loudly, giving me that look like I was a spoiled brat throwing a tantrum. “Lyla, do stop being so dramatic. This is hardly unreasonable.” “Hardly unreasonable?” I repeated, my voice rising. “I don’t even know him well enough to up and agree to this! You can’t just….” “That's enough.” Her
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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
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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
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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 : 2025-03-02
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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
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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
