Sky
The room was suffocating, the kind of darkness that felt alive, wrapping around me like a second skin. I was naked, trembling, my body pressed against the cold wall. My hands and feet were chained, the iron biting into my skin, reducing me to something less than human. I whimpered, tears streaking my face as the reality of my situation sank deeper. I had no idea where I was, how I got here, or how to escape. Then, I heard it. Footsteps. The sound of leather boots pressing against the floor echoed through the void. My heart raced, panic overtaking me as I scanned the blackness, trying to see where they were coming from. The footsteps grew louder, closer, each one sending a shiver through my body. The creak of a door opening caught my attention. A sliver of light appeared, faint and distant, casting the outline of a figure. My breath caught as the door swung wider, flooding the room with just enough light for me to make out the man stepping inside. He was massive, towering, his presence swallowing the space like a shadow come to life. Six feet tall, maybe more. He wore only leather pants and boots, his upper body bare, every inch of it carved like a statue. His muscles rippled with each movement, and his skin gleamed, as if painted with oil and glitter. His eyes were the first thing that truly terrified me. At first, they burned red, like embers, but they seemed to shift, glowing with an intensity that locked me in place. I tried to shrink away, pressing myself against the wall, but the chains held me fast. I raised my head again, and he was suddenly there, right in front of me. I flinched, gasping as he crouched down, his presence overwhelming. He grabbed the chains that bound me and yanked them with a force that made my body jerk violently forward. Pain exploded through me, dragging a cry from my throat as he pulled me across the floor. The cold stone scraped against my skin, and I struggled, my limbs weak and useless against him. We stopped in the center of the room. A bright light flickered on above us, illuminating him fully now. My gaze flickered upward, and I saw it: the mask. A panda mask. It covered the upper half of his face, leaving only his sharp jawline, green eyes—no longer burning red—and wild, dark curls exposed. Those eyes glinted under the light, full of something I couldn’t name. Something dangerous. I thrashed, desperate to get away, but he pinned me to the ground with a strength that left me helpless. His powerful legs bracketed my body, caging me in, while his right hand pressed down on my waist, trapping me exactly where he wanted. I tried to scream but my voice is gone and all I could make out was muffled sounds that I could hardly here. He wrapped the chains around his neck and ran his hand round my body, he groped my breast from underneath, my nipples hard at this point. Why does my body have to act like I am a fucking slut?. He squeezes on them and it hurts. He follows down my back until they stop at my asshole. “Don’t you dare?” I warned but nothing was coming out. I could feel a finger slip into it, my body twitched from the action but he pressed forth on my waist harder with his order hands. My breasts are slammed hard to the ground turning them flat, my chin hurt from being pushed and dragged around. Two fingers in and I think he is going to tear it, he pushes it further in and then he stops and pulls them out. My eyes closed waiting for the inevitable, I knew he was going to shove his cock into it since that was the only place of interest to him. His hands trail further until they are on my fucking clit, he slaps it hard and I squint. I crossed my legs immediately a finger waltzed into my cunt, he drags the chain and and turn me over. My legs are wrapped around his waist, spread further than I could imagine. He is looking directly at me, then he dips his finger into my cunt, this time he puts two fingers. My walls are tampered with and they bring forth a sweet sensation, I thrust my hips further to get a better feel and he understands as he pushes his fingers further in. A moan escapes my lips but Ofcourse it was inaudible, he slid them in and out as he worked my hips like I was riding a horse. A knock came on the door and my eyes open in shock, could there be someone else. “What is it?” I hear him speak for the first time. His hands still working my pussy but faster this time, I leaned my head back, I was this close to coming when he suddenly pulled out. I opened my eyes again to find myself in the room, he is standing by the bed with his three fingers out, he looks at me and it dawned on me that I was completely naked and desperately fucking his hand in my sleep. He bit his lower lip and walked out the room, “We have some issues” I could hear someone say over the door, he takes one last look at me, strictly a warning for me to behave myself then he stormed out. I glance at myself, my legs spread out, I could see bite marks on my thighs and I don’t fucking remember that in the dream. Was I really dreaming? Or is what happened in the dream different from the reality?. My stomach grumbled, a loud reminder that I hadn’t eaten in hours. I needed food, and I needed it now. The sound of the entrance door shutting echoed faintly, signaling the coast was clear. I quickly grabbed a pair of jeans from the closet and tugged on a black hoodie from the limited set of clothes he’d given me. My eyes darted around the room as I cracked the door open, making sure the hallway was empty. Satisfied, I slipped out and rushed quietly down the stairs, heading straight for the kitchen. The cabinets in the kitchen were ridiculously high, clearly designed for someone taller. At barely over five feet, I didn’t even bother trying to reach them. Instead, I went straight to the fridge and yanked it open. There it was. A strawberry cake, sitting in the center shelf like a gift from the heavens. I didn’t think twice. I grabbed it, pulled a knife from the counter, and carved out a generous slice. Then another. And another. I didn’t stop until I was shoving the cake into my mouth, barely pausing to chew. The sweet, creamy texture filled my senses, and for the first time in days, I felt something close to satisfaction. The sound of the door opening snapped me out of it. I froze, the knife still in my hand, cake smeared on my lips. Without thinking, I ducked under the counter, clutching the plate close to me. My heart pounded as I listened, every footstep drawing nearer. No. I wasn’t giving up this cake. Not after craving it for a week. He never says anything to me expect remind me of his fucking rule, I had no idea what his name was until yesterday and I am certain he didn’t know mine. All he did was touch my body in ways that I have never touched before, I knew I was his fucking sex toy, just like the man from yesterday had said but it was better to do this than get killed by him. I hated him. I hated everything about this situation. But I wasn’t about to starve because of it. When I think about Mr G and his family, I feel regretful but I have to live too. The sound of the TV came on in the other room, the faint murmur of news or static. The tension eased slightly, and I sank back against the cabinet, finishing the last bite of cake and licking the plate clean. My stomach was full, my body buzzing from the sugar rush. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and peeked out. The coast was quiet. Carefully, I crept out of the kitchen, keeping my head low as I shut the door softly behind me. Then I felt it. That heavy, suffocating sensation, like eyes boring into me. The air turned cold, goosebumps prickling my skin. I slowly raised my head, and my heart stopped. He was standing there. Not just him, though. There were others. A group of unfamiliar faces, all staring at me like I was something out of place, their expressions a mix of shock and amusement. I stood there, caught, my pulse hammering in my ears. The remnants of cake on my hoodie sleeve suddenly felt like evidence of a crime. Busted’ were they right words to discuss what was happening right now. The room spun as I glanced around, my mind racing to piece together what was happening. My eyes landed on him, Dare. Unlike the others, who stared at me in shock, his face was calm, unreadable. But there it was—something flickered in his eyes. Was it fear? No, it couldn’t be. A man like him didn’t know fear. Before I could make sense of it, one of the other men lunged toward me, his hand outstretched. My instinct was to pull back, but I was frozen in place. The distance between us vanished in a heartbeat. Then it happened. Bang. The sound tore through the air, deafening, leaving my ears ringing. Warm liquid splattered across my face and dripped down my cheek. I froze, my hands trembling as I raised them to touch the sticky wetness. Blood. It was blood. I looked up in horror to see the man who’d reached for me crumple to the ground, a jagged hole in his forehead. His eyes were wide, staring at nothing, his body collapsing like a marionette with its strings cut. My breath hitched. My legs felt weak. “Ahhhhhh!” I screamed, the sound erupting from deep in my chest, uncontrollable and loud. I stumbled backward, my hands trembling as they wiped at the blood on my face.DareI am walking across the room when I hear muffled sounds from her room, I could tell exactly what those sounds were and it pissed me off. How dare you jerk off herself when I didn’t give her the permission, I push open the door to found her squimmering under the sheets, she is breathless and shaking, her eyes are closed.Is she dreaming? What is she dreaming of? “Please” I hear her whisper, the same way she did the other night. It’s soft and soothing to the ear, I would never let her go if she begged me with such tone.She pushed herself down, her legs crossed together and tightly.I sit by the bed watching her, I could hear moans escaping her lips, my two fingers caressed her lips when she opened them wide. For a minute I thought she was awake and responding to me but she was still fast asleep, I dipped my fingers into her open mouth and she sucks on them immediately. Whatever she was dreaming off has her horny as shit. I pulled my fingers out of her lips and ran them down her
DareI stood in my living room, the stench of blood heavy in the air, bodies scattered around me like discarded chess pieces. These men were supposed to be my recruits. Now they were nothing but lifeless proof of what happens when you cross me.After watching the news, everything in my life had spiraled. I hadn’t expected her to be the Mayor’s daughter. It had never crossed my mind. She didn’t act like she came from money, and she never once mentioned her family—not that I gave her much of a chance to talk. I’d assumed she was another runaway, abandoned by the world, just like the rest of us.But a million dollars changes everything. That kind of reward? It could make men betray their blood, and here I was, in the middle of the aftermath.“No one touches what’s mine,” I muttered under my breath, tightening my grip on the situation.Then came the voice from outside—grating, arrogant, and loud enough to make me grit my teeth.“Listen up!” it called out. “We know you have the Mayor’s dau
“Dad!” she screams, her voice cracking as the car disappears from sight. My grip on her remains unyielding, my hands steady around her. I can feel her trembling, her shoulders shaking with sobs. She doesn’t stop struggling, but I don’t let go.She turns to me, her face streaked with tears, her eyes brimming and swollen. Her cheeks sag, a picture of heartbreak.“Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Just let me go. Let me go back to my family.”Her words sting in a way I didn’t expect, but I ignore the pang in my chest. She doesn’t understand—she can’t. I hoist her over my shoulder, ignoring her soft cries and the weak pounding of her fists against my back.The walk to the house feels longer than it should, her muffled pleas ringing in my ears. I push the door open and head straight to my room, the only place where I can remind her what she means to me.Her tears seep into my shirt, warm and wet, but I don’t stop. She’s mine. She belongs here.I set her down gently, sitting her
SkyMy eyes flutter open to the sound of my stomach growling, a hollow ache reminding me of how little I’ve eaten. I sit up, resting my head against the pillow behind me, and let out a deep sigh. The events of last night replay in my mind—the failed attempt to see my father, the crushing disappointment. The open window lets in a cool breeze, carrying with it an unnerving silence. It’s eerily quiet.Dare isn’t home.The realization sparks a glimmer of hope. I scramble to the closet, yanking out the white sheets, my hands moving with a frantic urgency. I drag the sheets to the bed, tying the ends together in tight knots. Next, I pull down the black curtains and secure them to the makeshift rope. My heart pounds as I glance out the window, checking the ground below.The guards are fewer than usual.A smile creeps across my face. Maybe this is it—my chance to escape him. My father must be worried sick, and I can’t let him stay that way. I know I swore my life to Dare in that moment of des
Dare I have been quiet for a while now, trying to control the urge to snap her pretty little neck and rid myself of the trouble she brings. It takes everything in me to stay composed, but the thought of her daring to escape me gnaws at the edges of my patience. How far was she willing to go just to get away from me?I replayed the scene in my head, watching her through the cameras in her room as she tied the ends of the sheet together. Brave of her, trying to climb down the window like that. If I hadn’t caught sight of the man lurking outside the gate, waiting to whisk her away, she might have made it. That thought alone tightens the knot in my chest—a mixture of fury and something deeper, something I refuse to acknowledge.“Did you forget what you said to me?” My voice is low but sharp, my eyes locked on her. Her head is bowed, but I can see the sadness in her eyes when she glances up, the glint of guilt trying to play its part.It doesn’t move me.A deal is a deal, and she belongs
SkyI ran down the corridor, my bare feet slapping against the cold floor as I knocked frantically on door after door, hoping someone would answer. Time felt like it was slipping through my fingers. Any moment now, Dare would realize I was gone, and if he found me, there would be no escape.A door creaked open behind me, and I spun around. A man in his thirties stepped out, his curly hair messy, a robe draped loosely over his frame. His sleepy eyes scanned me, taking in my dark hair and the oversized white robe clinging to my trembling body.“Please,” I begged, my voice shaking. “Can I use your phone?”He hesitated, glancing down the hall. My heart pounded in my chest, the room Dare and I had shared looming at the end of the corridor. I could almost feel his presence, his shadow creeping closer.“Please,” I repeated, desperation cracking my voice. “Just one call. I promise.”The man sighed, his gaze flicking around nervously, but he finally opened the door wider. Without waiting, I da
Dare “You threw me!” she screams, her voice trembling with rage as I step down from the garbage truck. “I could have died!” “But you didn’t,” I say flatly. “Let’s go.” “I’m not going anywhere with you!” Her defiance is infuriating, but this isn’t a negotiation. Grabbing her arm, I drag her along despite her struggles. She pulls against my grip, but it’s pointless—I’m not letting go. Mark is starting to get on my nerves. If I weren’t cornered with her in tow, I would’ve torn through those men and killed him myself, consequences be damned. But things are different now. I miss the days when my decisions didn’t come with strings attached. No responsibilities. No vulnerabilities. I could kill her right here if I wanted, but the thought of Mark or anyone else getting their hands on her twists something dark inside me. She makes me greedy. Possessive, if you want to call it that. She drives me insane. A week with her and I’m addicted, obsessed. The idea of losing her is unbearable, ev
Sky We arrive at another location which I could only assume was one of his safe house. I wasted no time finding a room, peeling off my filthy clothes, and rushing into the bathroom. I was still seething. He had thrown me—literally thrown me—out of a window into a trash cabinet. The stench was unbearable, clinging to my skin as if it had fused with my pores. And the chase? My life dangled by a thread the entire time, all thanks to him. As I stood under the stream of water, my thoughts drifted to my father. He was probably tearing the hotel apart by now, looking for me. But we’d already slipped away, leaving no trace. Would he find me in time? The sound of the bathroom door creaking open jolted me from my thoughts. My head whipped around, and my eyes widened. “What are you doing?” I yelled, grabbing a towel to cover myself. Dare stepped in, completely unfazed, and completely naked. The water from the shower streamed over his sculpted figure as he stood under the same spray as me.
Morning sunlight filtered softly through the curtains of Darla’s room, painting delicate patterns across the hardwood floor. The warmth was gentle, almost coaxing, but she remained curled beneath the covers, knees drawn to her chest, eyes fixed on the phone in her hands. It was an older model, chipped at the edges and slow to respond, but it held pieces of her past she couldn’t bring herself to erase.A hesitant knock at the door broke the silence, and Darla tensed instinctively, fingers tightening around the phone. But the voice that followed was warm, familiar, and a little rough with age.“Darla?” Marcel called softly. “Breakfast is ready downstairs. I made some coffee too—figured you could use it.”She exhaled slowly, the tension bleeding from her shoulders. Marcel’s presence was still new, a puzzle piece she hadn’t expected but found herself clinging to. He was a stranger in some ways—his eyes older, face lined with years of grief and weariness—but the kindness in his gaze was th
Ethan’s knuckles rapped against the door for the third time, the hollow sound echoing through the deserted hotel hallway. He leaned in, jaw clenched tight, heart hammering painfully against his ribcage. Silence stretched on the other side—deafening, absolute. Not even a whisper of movement.He swore under his breath, frustration spiking hot and sharp through his veins. Darla had to be inside. She wasn’t the type to ignore people, no matter how furious or hurt she might have been. Not unless…His breath hitched at the thought, fingers flexing against the smooth wood of the door. No. She couldn’t have left—not without a word, not when there was so much unresolved between them.But the silence lingered, unbroken and oppressive, taunting him with every heartbeat.“Darla!” he called, voice low but urgent, fingers tightening around the door handle. “Open up. We need to talk.”Nothing.An icy tendril of dread curled in his gut, twisting tighter with each passing second. His eyes narrowed, pu
The suitcase lay open on the bed, half-filled with clothes hastily folded and shoes shoved into corners. Darla’s hands trembled as she reached for another dress, the soft fabric slipping between her fingers as she struggled to breathe evenly. Her heart pounded a frantic rhythm against her ribs, her pulse a dull roar in her ears.She bit down on her lip, hard enough to sting, and forced herself to focus—one item at a time, one movement at a time. Pack, zip, leave. Simple. Necessary. Anything to escape the suffocating walls of the hotel room and the possibility of running into him again.Ethan.The name alone sent a fresh wave of panic crashing through her, her fingers faltering around the edge of a blouse. His eyes, dark and unreadable, flashed unbidden in her mind—the way they’d looked at her in the lobby, a mixture of shock and something else she couldn’t name. Something raw and aching that left her chest tight and her breath shallow.She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the memory aw
Esther’s eyes flicked to the clock on her office wall for the fifth time in as many minutes. Each tick seemed to echo louder than the last, pounding in her ears like a cruel reminder. It was past seven in the evening, the sky outside her floor-to-ceiling windows a dull gray, streaked with the last traces of daylight. Her phone lay face-up on her desk, dark and silent despite the dozen missed calls she had made.She drew in a shaky breath, forcing herself to focus on the financial reports open on her monitor, but the numbers blurred together, meaningless. The cursor blinked accusingly, a taunt to her futile attempts at distraction. Her manicured fingers drummed nervously against the mahogany desk, a tremor betraying her otherwise composed exterior.Two hours.For two hours, she had been calling Roy.And for two hours, he had not picked up. Not once.Her chest tightened painfully, a dull ache settling beneath her ribs. The same ache that had been festering since that night—since Darla h
Author’s POVThe low buzz of conversation filled the VIP section of the Rooftop Bar, but Roy barely registered it. His fingers curled around the neck of his beer bottle, the cool glass slick against his palm. It was already past three in the afternoon, and he was on his third bottle—maybe fourth. He wasn’t even sure anymore.He had come here thinking a few drinks with the boys might clear his head. It didn’t.King’s voice cut through the haze, smooth and casual. “What’s on your mind, buddy?” he asked, leaning back in his chair. The bottle in his hand clinked softly against the table, but Roy’s eyes remained distant, fixed somewhere beyond the dim blue lights flickering above.The atmosphere was suffocating. The heavy curtains blocked out any sunlight, making it impossible to tell if it was day or night. But the gloom felt fitting—an external mirror of the storm churning inside him.Darla.Her name surfaced in his mind unbidden, bringing with it a flood of memories he’d tried and faile
Ethan’s knuckles had turned red the moment he stepped out of the car, his fingers clenched so tightly that the veins beneath his skin protruded like strained cables. He flexed his hand absently, a futile attempt to shake off the tension that seemed embedded too deep to dislodge. The car ride had been mortifying, the low hum of conversation between John and Carlo barely registering. Their voices melded into the background—mere noise compared to the chaos raging inside his head.Darla.She had been right there. Right in front of him. And yet, the instant their eyes met, she had turned and fled. As if he were something to be avoided. As if he were nothing.How many times was she going to keep running from him?A sharp exhale left him, his jaw tightening with barely restrained frustration. He could never forget that face—those eyes, the way her lips parted in that fleeting second before she bolted like a coward. His chest burned with something raw and unnameable.Anger?Frustration?Pain?
The shrill ringing of the alarm clock waked Darla up. She groaned, her hand fumbling blindly across the nightstand until her fingers closed around her phone. Squinting against the harsh light of the screen, her eyes widened at the numbers glaring back at her.9:12 AM.Panic jolted her up, sending a violent pulse of pain through her skull.Shit. Shit. Shit.Her meeting was at 10 AM. She was supposed to wake up early, go over her notes one last time—not drown herself in alcohol and pass out fully dressed. The nausea hit first, causing the room to spin dangerously. Gritting her teeth, Darla pressed her fingers to her temples as if that could somehow hold her brain together.This is what you get, Darla.The floor tilted beneath her feet as she stumbled into the bathroom. She barely registered the icy chill of the shower before a sharp gasp tore from her throat. The shock of cold water slammed into her, dulling the pounding in her head just enough to think.You don’t have time for this.S
Revenge is a slow burn—a fire that starts deep in your gut and spreads until it consumes everything in its path.People warn against it, say it will rot you from the inside out.But they never talk about the rush.The satisfaction.The raw power of watching the people who wronged you crumble under the weight of their own sins.Darla never knew how intoxicating it could be—until tonight.She had seen the way their expressions twisted—first shock, then anger, then finally settling into pure hatred.At least, hers did.Esther.God, she hated Darla.It was written all over her perfectly painted face, hidden beneath layers of artificial charm. The way she clutched Roy’s arm, fingers digging into his sleeve as if Darla were a ghost who had returned to haunt her.And maybe she had.Maybe she wanted to be.She couldn’t stand Esther.Not just because she had married Darla’s fiancé, but because she had stolen the life Darla was supposed to have. The love. The family she had envisioned.Esther h
Roy Claus was still pisded about his anniversary being ruined, his entire world was unraveling in the span of a single night.After four years of silence, four years of pretending she never existed, of pushing her memory into the darkest corners of his mind—she came back.And she wrecked everything.The sound of shattering glass still echoed in his head.His perfect night—ruined. He could step out and face the guests, he felt so ashamed.A soft touch landed on his arm.“Roy…”Esther called him.Her voice was gentle, careful—too careful. As if she were willing the room to forget what had just happened, to pretend that Darla hadn’t just torn open a wound that was never meant to heal.Roy turned to her sharply, his hand grabbing her wrist before he even realized what he was doing.She flinched.“What the hell did she mean?” he raked, demanding answers he wasn’t sure he wanted.But he needed them.He couldn't forget the scene where Darla whispered into her ears, it made him feel like he wa