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NINE: To See . . . My Husband?
Last Updated:
2025-04-13 08:44:57
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Her Neglected Scars TEN: Playing With Fire
“Because I wanted to see how hot my soon-to-be husband is! There, satisfied?!” I instantly closed my mouth as quickly as I opened them to throw out those stupid words. Konstantin’s gaze flickered with surprise, quickly replaced by an icy, calculated glare.Without another word, the gun halted on my stomach. I could feel its muzzle running up and down my body with the thin fabric that is now even thinner with the rain’s pouring. He drags it back up to my chest with a cold-blooded gaze.Well, isn’t this just dandy? I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to be on the wrong end of a gun in the rain.“Husband, huh?” He murmurs and my eyes widened, relaying back the words I just threw out. “Wait, did I say ‘husband’? I said I just wanted to see how hot you were. I mean, you’re all over business magazines, afterall.” I smiled. It’s either playing dumb with Konstantin Morozov himself would end well or with a bullet planted on my head.He let me off despite clearly knowing that the blon
Last Updated : 2025-04-14Her Neglected Scars ELEVEN: The Prize of a Lie
Did I hear that right?“Evangeline, dearest. I couldn’t be prouder. Your wedding to Konstantin in a week, and tomorrow, we’ll celebrate your engagement.” My father, Theodor Bennington, smiles at me with feigned fatherly pride. He’s not excited for me, but for when his plans finally commence. White boxes were being carried by dozens of maids lingering around back and forth from the outside. “B-but, he hasn’t even proposed yet.” I mutter, clenching the staircase railings. Father looks up at me, his excited face falling into annoyance as he barked another order on the last maid as to where to put the huge box in.“The rings will be delivered to our doorstep. End of discussion.” He announces before turning around to continue his routine, much to the servant’s anxiety. They could never take a break in this house, and yet articles still call this hellhole a fairytale’s palace.The only thing that’s fantastical about this place is that it has a torture room—The Dark Cell. That’s significant
Last Updated : 2025-04-15Her Neglected Scars TWELVE: Miranda Bennington
“I’m fucking sick of you always whining, Miranda. Caesar will inherit the company, and that’s the end of it!” I was ten, clutching the comfort my crocheted teddy bear gave me. It was Mom’s gift, and I’m staring at her as she’s being beaten by my own father.“That kid Caesar is a terrible choice for the company! She has the heart and the skills to lead! You’re too blinded by your prejudices to see it!” My mother argues.“Fuck prejudices!” He slams his fist on the table, causing it to shake. “It’s called tradition! Men are meant to run the business, not women. What kind of leader would a girl make?”“It’s about capabilities, Theodore! What about the way Caesar was treating Eva? You’re letting him abuse her!” Father grabs mom by the shoulders, furiously shaking her as she glares up at him.“Abuse? She’s being soft! If she can’t handle a little pushback, she’s not fit for anything!” He yells at her face while Mom was trying to break free.“She’s been through a lot. I won’t stand for this.
Last Updated : 2025-04-16Her Neglected Scars THIRTEEN: Engagement Parties and Severed Hands
Sage green eyes, black wavy hair, pale, unstained skin—at least to naked eyes, and a body to die for wrapped in a red, tube neckline satin gown which flows down perfectly on the floor, its tall, one-legged slit rides its way up its thighs. She’s staring back at me in the mirror with anxiety bubbling in her gaze.“Gown, satin—the hem is good, everything is great . . .” I glance to the side of the mirror.The designer was walking back and forth with her thumb between her teeth, fixing any last-minute designs on the gown as I stood on an elevated platform like a mannequin. “Turn to me, please.” I obliged, my back facing the mirror.My eyes catches the last of my whip scars—the very symbol of my survival in this household, now perfectly hidden beneath the fabric, and the large, long scars that rose through up the gown and crept all the way to my shoulders were meticulously concealed with makeup and wax.Talk about the best artists in history.“Should we take this off?” I glance down as t
Last Updated : 2025-04-17Her Neglected Scars FOURTEEN: The Car Empty of the Devil
The drive to the party was silent. The doorman sat right beside the driver, who was also silently managing the wheel. There was the beautiful bouquet and the smell of expensive wine that’s supposed to be shared by the two engaged people—who, by the way, doesn’t have the balls to show up to me right now—was the last hospitality they could give me. They didn’t have the courage to ask how I’m doing. Considering the guy I was supposed to marry sent me a ride to the party without coming along. Not that I would expect them to. These are Konstantin Morozov’s henchmen, built to intimidate and kill, not pamper a woman their boss is planning to dispose of once deemed unworthy.Finally, we arrived at the large mansion. It was filled with different classic cars parked in the corners, which tells me the guests were already here. Only to witness the fiance walking on her own inside.I inhaled a huge amount of breath and slapped my cheeks with both hands. It was the only loud sounds that cracked th
Last Updated : 2025-04-18Her Neglected Scars FIFTEEN: Names and Wedding Dresses
If I had to choose between being kidnapped and tied down to listen to children laughing at three in the morning or this, I would choose the former. “You seem to be enjoying this.” Konstantin’s icy breath fans my neck, a growl involuntarily leaves his lips. I am currently in his lap right now and we are reenacting a scene I tried so damn hard to burn into ashes from my memories. “I know that you know we’d both be paying each other to be a million meters away from ourselves right now.” I whisper, sweating from the proximity of our warm bodies.This lap dance was merely for the sake of the show, or rather the awkward host’s attempt to break the tension lurking in the air at the recent announcement of Morozov’s addition to the family. “Wow! We’re getting steamy, huh? This couple are partners to root for!” The host adds, his voice a screeching sound to the echoing microphone. It’s honestly making this experience a little harder to endure. It’s for mother. It’s for mother. It’s for moth
Last Updated : 2025-04-21Her Neglected Scars ONE: Marrying To My Doom
I’m getting married to Konstantin Morozov, the merciless billionaire crowned as the bloodthirsty King in all of Russia, or in other words, my life is going to end today.A stark difference to the dark cell I thought it would be ending, but instead it’s here—in this beautiful church adorned with flowers and friends who will not hesitate to stab you in the back the second you away.I watch the stranger’s eyes look at me with judgment written all over their faces, each of them a witness to my impending doom.“These rings will symbolize the love that will forever be cherished in this marriage.” The priest declares, and a small boy, who looks a lot like the groom I will be married to, walks up the aisle with the rings gently laid on the pillow he’s holding.Konstantin Morozov takes one and right when I was about to wait for the traditional vows, he pulls my hand to his and roughly pushes the ring in my finger.I jolt in surprise but feeling the eyes of my family, I instantly recover with a
Last Updated : 2025-04-01Her Neglected Scars TWO: To Punish the Brave One
When you dig your own grave, you better be ready to lie in it, but damn, this is one deep hole.Bloody pupils that look and feel like it’s seen murderous things penetrated right through the small slats of the closet. He doesn’t move, nor does he stray his eyes away from mine. Instead, his lips, captivating and sexy as they are stained with one of the guard’s blood, curved in a fascinated smirk. It was looking at something delicious to mock.He knows I’m here and yet makes no move to find out or drag me the fuck out like any other normal people catching someone hiding themselves in a small closet would.He doesn’t say a word and silence befalls the two of us, adding to the suffocation from being trapped in this small piece of furniture.I want to get out. My instinct is telling me to run, like a small prey in the presence of a predator. He is a predator.We both stay silent until a strained knock thudded on the door, as if the person behind it was debating whether to disturb the monst
Last Updated : 2025-04-01
Latest chapter
Her Neglected Scars FIFTEEN: Names and Wedding Dresses
If I had to choose between being kidnapped and tied down to listen to children laughing at three in the morning or this, I would choose the former. “You seem to be enjoying this.” Konstantin’s icy breath fans my neck, a growl involuntarily leaves his lips. I am currently in his lap right now and we are reenacting a scene I tried so damn hard to burn into ashes from my memories. “I know that you know we’d both be paying each other to be a million meters away from ourselves right now.” I whisper, sweating from the proximity of our warm bodies.This lap dance was merely for the sake of the show, or rather the awkward host’s attempt to break the tension lurking in the air at the recent announcement of Morozov’s addition to the family. “Wow! We’re getting steamy, huh? This couple are partners to root for!” The host adds, his voice a screeching sound to the echoing microphone. It’s honestly making this experience a little harder to endure. It’s for mother. It’s for mother. It’s for moth
Her Neglected Scars FOURTEEN: The Car Empty of the Devil
The drive to the party was silent. The doorman sat right beside the driver, who was also silently managing the wheel. There was the beautiful bouquet and the smell of expensive wine that’s supposed to be shared by the two engaged people—who, by the way, doesn’t have the balls to show up to me right now—was the last hospitality they could give me. They didn’t have the courage to ask how I’m doing. Considering the guy I was supposed to marry sent me a ride to the party without coming along. Not that I would expect them to. These are Konstantin Morozov’s henchmen, built to intimidate and kill, not pamper a woman their boss is planning to dispose of once deemed unworthy.Finally, we arrived at the large mansion. It was filled with different classic cars parked in the corners, which tells me the guests were already here. Only to witness the fiance walking on her own inside.I inhaled a huge amount of breath and slapped my cheeks with both hands. It was the only loud sounds that cracked th
Her Neglected Scars THIRTEEN: Engagement Parties and Severed Hands
Sage green eyes, black wavy hair, pale, unstained skin—at least to naked eyes, and a body to die for wrapped in a red, tube neckline satin gown which flows down perfectly on the floor, its tall, one-legged slit rides its way up its thighs. She’s staring back at me in the mirror with anxiety bubbling in her gaze.“Gown, satin—the hem is good, everything is great . . .” I glance to the side of the mirror.The designer was walking back and forth with her thumb between her teeth, fixing any last-minute designs on the gown as I stood on an elevated platform like a mannequin. “Turn to me, please.” I obliged, my back facing the mirror.My eyes catches the last of my whip scars—the very symbol of my survival in this household, now perfectly hidden beneath the fabric, and the large, long scars that rose through up the gown and crept all the way to my shoulders were meticulously concealed with makeup and wax.Talk about the best artists in history.“Should we take this off?” I glance down as t
Her Neglected Scars TWELVE: Miranda Bennington
“I’m fucking sick of you always whining, Miranda. Caesar will inherit the company, and that’s the end of it!” I was ten, clutching the comfort my crocheted teddy bear gave me. It was Mom’s gift, and I’m staring at her as she’s being beaten by my own father.“That kid Caesar is a terrible choice for the company! She has the heart and the skills to lead! You’re too blinded by your prejudices to see it!” My mother argues.“Fuck prejudices!” He slams his fist on the table, causing it to shake. “It’s called tradition! Men are meant to run the business, not women. What kind of leader would a girl make?”“It’s about capabilities, Theodore! What about the way Caesar was treating Eva? You’re letting him abuse her!” Father grabs mom by the shoulders, furiously shaking her as she glares up at him.“Abuse? She’s being soft! If she can’t handle a little pushback, she’s not fit for anything!” He yells at her face while Mom was trying to break free.“She’s been through a lot. I won’t stand for this.
Her Neglected Scars ELEVEN: The Prize of a Lie
Did I hear that right?“Evangeline, dearest. I couldn’t be prouder. Your wedding to Konstantin in a week, and tomorrow, we’ll celebrate your engagement.” My father, Theodor Bennington, smiles at me with feigned fatherly pride. He’s not excited for me, but for when his plans finally commence. White boxes were being carried by dozens of maids lingering around back and forth from the outside. “B-but, he hasn’t even proposed yet.” I mutter, clenching the staircase railings. Father looks up at me, his excited face falling into annoyance as he barked another order on the last maid as to where to put the huge box in.“The rings will be delivered to our doorstep. End of discussion.” He announces before turning around to continue his routine, much to the servant’s anxiety. They could never take a break in this house, and yet articles still call this hellhole a fairytale’s palace.The only thing that’s fantastical about this place is that it has a torture room—The Dark Cell. That’s significant
Her Neglected Scars TEN: Playing With Fire
“Because I wanted to see how hot my soon-to-be husband is! There, satisfied?!” I instantly closed my mouth as quickly as I opened them to throw out those stupid words. Konstantin’s gaze flickered with surprise, quickly replaced by an icy, calculated glare.Without another word, the gun halted on my stomach. I could feel its muzzle running up and down my body with the thin fabric that is now even thinner with the rain’s pouring. He drags it back up to my chest with a cold-blooded gaze.Well, isn’t this just dandy? I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to be on the wrong end of a gun in the rain.“Husband, huh?” He murmurs and my eyes widened, relaying back the words I just threw out. “Wait, did I say ‘husband’? I said I just wanted to see how hot you were. I mean, you’re all over business magazines, afterall.” I smiled. It’s either playing dumb with Konstantin Morozov himself would end well or with a bullet planted on my head.He let me off despite clearly knowing that the blon
Her Neglected Scars NINE: To See . . . My Husband?
So this is what I get for thinking that my good intentions would outweigh my terrible decision-making skills—ending up in a perverted stranger’s hands.Fuck.If I knew this blonde motherfucker had only helped me to satisfy his blue balls, I would have stayed seated on top of Konstantin’s lap.He was stern, cold-blooded, and definitely had the certainty of murdering me the moment I was out of this mansion written on his face. But hey, at least I would be sure he’s not about to force-feed me with his cock.Or in all honesty, I would have given him my entire permission.The mansion was now surrounded by fog, and I couldn’t see anything. Given how we drove all the way up mountains and treks just to get here earlier, I figured there’d be no neighbors to hear my plea as well. The house was isolated as fuck.“Let me go, you dirty motherfucker!” My screams were muffled as Josh tightened his grip over my lips, almost forcing my head onto the wall. I could feel my tears collecting at the corner
Her Neglected Scars EIGHT: Hell from One to Another
“Hi, I’m Lisa’s manager,” The blonde man in his tight suit, flushed red face probably from the booze he’s been drinking all night and that oddly—probably fake gold watch, introduced himself.If I was sober and not in the utmost need of help, I would definitely laugh thinking how someone like him would be a believable manager. But no, this is a slut dancer group we’re talking about. So perhaps an alcoholic would be a fit guardian of all those sick girls.I subtly took a peek at Konstantin Morozov’s reaction. He still doesn’t know who I am, just that I’m a dancer and he’s at a party, so he’s getting what he was invited for. A lap dance is not a big deal when it comes to experienced sluts and I should be appearing as one.“I need you backstage right now.” He orders. My brows raised from how much command was in his tone. Probably from trying so hard to be ‘my manager’ but I did ask him for help so however this situation should turn out, it’s going to be my fault.It was quick but it didn’
Her Neglected Scars SEVEN: Dancing On Top of Danger
“I’m a really bad dancer, just so you know that.” I stammer as I try to keep up pace with the bald man in a suit. “Like, really bad. I might kick your boss in like—on his chest.” I added and he stopped in his tracks to turn around, lowering his black glasses only to sarcastically raise his brows at me.“Really? At a lap dance?” He asked and I swallowed the lump in my throat to try and breathe well. “It’s totally possible.” I arrogantly replied. Great. This is just great. A personal escort to my doom. I just hope the awkward dance moves are about to be part of the charm.I could feel harsh lasers piercing the back of my head and I slowly turn around to see the Mayor’s daughter fuming with an employee beside her holding a box of tissues. If that is not a bad omen, I don’t know what is.God, she must be freaking angry. I’m going to be lap dancing on top of the man she’s desperate to be with.After the employee stated it was Kokstantin who requested me, it was clear that staying a thousan
