Killian had never known guilt. Torturing a man, taking a life, leaving women sobbing and begging at his feet—none of it touched his cold heart. Nor did he ever cried when he was made to go through difficult and truamatising situations. He remained strong because tears were nothing a sign of weakness, and Killian Suvillian had no weaknesses. So, to see a man like him, whose heart is made of stone and unmoved by the suffering of others—shed tears is truly shocking. When he first met Amara, he never imagined she would become such an important part of his life. Her suffering affected him deeply, making him vulnerable in a way no one else ever could. He watched her, her body trembling in fear, eyes brimming with tears, and ugly bruises marring her skin, making her look so fragile and weak, as if she might break at any moment. The moisture in his eyes blurred his vision. He longed to go to her, to envelop her in his embrace, to comfort her and wipe away her tears. But he couldn't. He coul
Amara lay unconscious on the hospital bed, an oxygen mask covering her face. If anything, it only made her condition even more pitfull. She looked fragile in every sense of the word. Despite being pregnant, she hadn't gained any weight; in fact, she seemed to have lost more. Her once full cheeks were now hollow after just three days of unconsciousness, her cheekbones sharply prominent. For someone carrying a child, she resembled a child herself—one in desperate need of protection from the world and to be treasured. Killian stared at her unconscious form, his gaze unwavering. For the past three days, he hadn't left her side, no matter what emergencies arose. Since the assault, something inside him had snapped, leaving him irrevocably changed. A gut-wrenching feeling seized him every time he imagined what she had endured at the hands of Derek and Richard—and especially because of him.It felt like a slap in the face.He was the one responsible for her greatest nightmare, the source of
Killian stared at Derek and Richard with eyes devoid of any emotion, looking almost dead. His face was blank, unreadable, making it impossible to fathom what he was thinking. One of the men handed him a knife. He took it, and its blade glowed menacingly in the darkness of the basement. He simply raised his head towards Derek and Richard, his eyes filled with pure darkness, a look that promised nothing but destruction. Killian began to walk towards Derek and Richard, who were tied to their chairs. Fear spread across their faces as they saw the deadly knife in Killian's hand. They struggled desperately against the ropes, trying to free themselves and get saved from Killian's wrath. "My wife is lying unconscious in the hospital. The doctor said her brain shut down from the trauma. She couldn't handle it anymore." Killian tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving theirs. "Do you know why she's in this condition?" He asked, his voice a dark whisper.Derek clenched his jaw upon h
At ten in the morning, the sun shone brightly, spreading its warmth everywhere. The air was filled with the joyful sounds of children's laughter. Young kids played together, while teenagers gathered in small groups, busy among themselves. The scene seemed to radiate life, love, and happiness.Yet, beneath this cheerful facade lay a harsher reality. This was an orphanage, home to children discarded by their parents as though their lives had no value. These children shared a common connection between them- they were seen as the products of sin by the world. Born from teenage pregnancies, assault and rape, or adultery, their parents could not—or would not—keep them. These children were hidden away from the world, for they are the darkest of sin. Abandoned on the orphanage's doorstep, they were left to grow up in darkness. Killian stared at the orphanage in front of him. It was the very place where Amara had been abandoned, where she had grown up without any parental support. The orphan
Killian stepped into the brothel, one of the oldest and most infamous establishments in the city. This was a place designed to satisfy the darkest desires and animalistic urges of men. Women from all corners of the globe worked here, numbering in the hundreds. Some were there by choice, but many were forced into this life. In a place like this, consent was a meaningless concept. The women were mere playthings, used and discarded at the whims of men. Killian, however, always stayed away from this place. It wasn't that he didn't liked sex but because he didn't want to touch a woman that was used by many men. This place, nonetheless, was a lucrative deal, bringing a lot of profit and income with men paying in millions to satisfy their inner sadists, and torturing and abusing the bodies of women for their sick pleasures.As Killian stepped into the brothel, all eyes turned towards him, conversations ceased and silence spread everywhere. One of the men who worked there, hurried over to h
Amara stared out the window, clad in a plain hospital dress. It had been two days since she woke up, and somewhere deep in her heart, she regretted it. Being in a coma had shielded her from the brutality and cruelty of reality. In that unconscious state, she had been safe and at peace, far removed from the harshness of the world. "Amara." A gentle voice called her name, and she turned to find Mary standing beside her. Mary stepped closer, her hand gently caressing Amara's head. The warmth from her touch made Amara close her eyes, and fresh tears welled up, overwhelmed by a rush of emotions. This wasn't how she had envisioned meeting Mary again. She had hoped to complete her degree, secure a good job, and greet Mary with a smile. Instead, she was in a hospital, pregnant with a baby she didn't want, meeting Mary with a broken look on her face. Was this her fate? To live a life wherein she was broken and forced into circumstances beyond her control? Mary's eyes filled with concer
Killian has changed.Amara senses it in the way he looks at her, as if she is the most precious thing in the world. His eyes are filled with a tenderness so intense it's almost painful to witness, a stare so delicate and fragile that she doesn't even realize he is watching her until she meets his gaze. The way he speaks to her has changed too. His voice, once harsh and hard, is now a gentle murmur, as if he believes she will shatter at the slightest hint of coldness. Every word he utters is wrapped in velvet, so soft and careful, as if she'll break if he speaks any louder. She doesn't understand what he's trying to achieve with all this. Is this another facade of his? A sick game to make her emotionally weak, only to strike when she least expects it? Hasn't he broken her enough already? She is merely existing now, a broken shell of the person she once was. The door creaked open as Killian entered the hospital room, only to find Amara staring outside the window with her back turned
Alejandro strolled into the garden, a charming smile spreading across his face as he came right after jogging. "I didn't know you like to sit in the garden in the morning and spend time with nature." Amara looked up and passed him a small smile. "I felt like having fresh air. The room was suffocating me."Alejandro nodded in understanding and took a seat next to her on the bench. Opening the water bottle he was carrying, he drank from it thirstily, savouring the cool of the water. A week had passed since she came back into the mansion, and a week of Killian trying to make things better between them. She didn't know what had changed him, but his affection and care felt more suffocating and poisonous than his coldness and hatred toward her. Surprisingly, Lucas had warmed up to Killian and even preferred to stay with him if she was not around. Elijah, fortunately, hadn't tried anything yet, but she feared it was only a momentary calmness."How's my champ doing?" Alejandro asked, his ey
One week.One excruciating week had passed since Amara tried to end her life, and Killian made the promise that tore him apart, to let her go. It hadn't been easy for him to say those words, let alone prepare himself to watch her walk away from him.He stood in front of the door, his hands buried deep in his pockets, watching her pack her things into the suitcase. Each movement she made felt like a dagger carving into his chest. He wanted to stop her. God, how he wanted to stop her. To drop to his knees and beg her to stay, to plead for one last chance to make things right. But he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve her. Not yet, not after the hell he had dragged her through. Amara was worth more than anything, and for the first time in his life, Killian understood what it meant to love someone selflessly. He wouldn’t hold her captive in a world of pain he had created. If letting her go was the first step toward earning her forgiveness, toward becoming the man she deserved, then he
Amara couldn’t bring herself to believe him. Deep down, she knew that no matter how much she wanted to, Killian Suvillian would never agree to her terms. He was a selfish man, someone who always took what he wanted, regardless of the cost or consequences. So why would he let her go simply because she’d tried to escape this life once and for all? He claimed to love her, but could his love really be so powerful, so deep, that he’d set her free without a second thought? Who was the real Killian? Was he the ruthless man she’d come to know since the day her life was torn apart, or was he this version now claiming he’d let her go? She couldn’t make sense of it. Everything was becoming suffocating, overwhelming, terrifying. Moments like these made her wonder if it would be easier to end her life than to keep living each day in fear. Then why did she hesitate when he offered to let her go? Perhaps, after all she’d endured, the promise of freedom felt too alluring to resist. She wanted
Trigger Warning: Attempt to Suicide ***If someone were to ask Killian where his world lay, he would show them the scene unfolding in front of him. Amara lay curled up on the bed, their daughter nestled in the crib, both in identical positions, breathing softly in unison. It was around four in the morning, but sleep abandoned him. He couldn't bring himself to close his eyes, refusing to face the darkness that haunted him whenever he did. How could he look away, even for a moment, when his entire world, so peaceful, so complete, was right there, filling his heart with peace and light?He had brought them home the night before. A team of doctors were ready in their mansion, ready to intervene if needed. He wasn't ready to take any chance, the thought of losing either of them was unbearable. He would do whatever it took to protect his fragile world, even at the cost of his own peace of mind. Time passed, and the darkness of night gradually gave way to the soft light of dawn. A knock
Killian refused to acknowledge her words, as if they had never left her lips, pretending they hadn’t sliced through him and torn him apart. He clung to the illusion, seeking comfort in the facade of a lie, as though denying the truth could somehow change it."You’re going to love our daughter," he said quietly, lips curving up into a small smile. "We will be a family. She’s going to be our-" "She's not my daughter!" Amara hissed. "She is a result of sin, and I will never love her!" Her throat burned from the force of her words, but she didn’t care. She needed him to feel them, to have her words cut through the illusion he was making in his sick mind. "Amara!" Killian growled, gritting his teeth in rage. "I am speaking the truth, Killian," Amara replied, a mirthless smile twisting her lips. "Don’t you remember how she was born? How can I love her and consider her my daughter when she was the very r-reason my life was destroyed?" Her voice cracked, words trembling as she fought aga
Killian had never allowed himself to feel—never this deeply, never this quickly. He had spent his life behind high walls, never letting anyone close enough to matter. Vulnerability and protectiveness were foreign to him, emotions he hadn’t known until Amara entered his life. He was always cold, distant, untouchable.But now, with this fragile life cradled in his arms, everything felt different. Why did he feel this fierce urge to shield her, to protect her from a world that could harm her? Her tears pierced through the barriers around his heart, and her tiny, soft cries shattered something deep inside him. Her cries, they sounded painful to him, filling him with a kind of agony he’d never known, never felt. His daughter still clung to his hand, her tiny fingers curling around his as if refusing to let him go. Her tiny face turned red as her cries grew more shrill, and Killian's hands trembled, terrified that it was his touch hurting her. Yet he couldn’t let go. “Do something to make
Killian couldn't stand the suffocating air inside the room anymore. So, he stormed out, his face having defeat all over it. His wife was inside, her fragile body soaked in blood, fighting for a life that was slipping away too quickly. The sight of her, broken and dying on that cold hospital bed, was more than he could bear. He never felt so weak before, and never faced a defeat so painful like this. He had lashed out at them, gripping their collars with fury, demanding they save her. What the doctors said still echoed in his mind like a death sentence, "Her chances are slim. Her body is too weak. The pregnancy is killing her, she’s too young, too traumatised. Her body can’t handle it." Forced pregnancy. Trauma. Weak body. Every word they spoke clawed deeper into his soul. He felt his throat tighten hearing that. This was his doing, his cruelty, his thirst for revenge that had destroyed her. Not Derek. Not anyone else. He was the one who dragged her into his hell, destroyed her b
A/N: Please note that I have no expertise in medical procedures. All content is fictional and should be treated as such.***Mother or baby.Killian stumbled back, staring at the doctor in disbelief. The words slammed into him, draining the life from his veins, as if he were being forced to endure an agony that physically hurt him.His heart clenched in pain at the thought of life without Amara. A life without her would hollow him out, leaving him nothing more than a walking corpse, soulless and dead inside. He needed her to be alive so he could breathe and live. How could he possibly let her go when she was the only reason his cold heart was beating? In that moment, it hit him like a storm, deadly and powerful. He loves Amara. Because if being terrified of a life where she wasn’t alive isn't love, then he didn’t know what love was. How had he not seen it before? His heart had been screaming it all along. Amara was everything love could be—soft, caring, pure, a light that had bro
The video played, ever so cruelly, ever so painfully, its brutality unfolding in agonising detail. The men’s savagery was laid bare before her eyes, exposing the creatures they truly were. They ravaged her helpless body, feasting on her as if she weren’t human. Amara's lips quivered, unable to form words, unable to process the horrors before her. They were touching her, abusing her flesh with a cruel smile on their faces. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, her vision blurring as her trembling hands clutched the camera.And then, she cried.She cried until her eyes burned, until her entire body convulsed with the sheer force of her sobs. She was violated without mercy, even while she was unconscious, with no sense of reality, as they turned her world into a horrifying nightmare. They stripped her of her dignity, again and again, pouncing on her inhumanly. Her chest tightened, the pain so suffocating it stole her breath. A horrible pain seized her heart, and the camera slipped from
Killian’s grip tightened around the gun, his knuckles turning white as the urge for bloodshed surged within him.One month.An entire month had passed since Derek slipped through his fingers, and still, there was no sign of him. It made his blood boil. That bastard never should have escaped in the first place, and if he did, he should’ve been caught the second he tried to pull that stunt. It was a disgrace, a defeat stamped onto his very existence, a humiliation that the leader of the Suvillians couldn’t capture him. Derek was out there somewhere, hiding like a coward, probably laughing at the fool he’d made of Killian. He must be fucking proud—assaulting his wife and then slipping away right under his nose. His men should never have let it happen. If they had been vigilant, if they hadn’t been so pathetically negligent, Derek wouldn’t have succeeded. But they failed. And that failure cost Killian more than just his pride. Derek was still out there, unharmed, without a single trace l