At seven in the evening, Aiden smoothly parked the car in front of Killian's mansion. "Come out," he instructed Amara as she reached for the door handle. She narrowed her eyes at him but complied, stepping out of the car."Follow me," Aiden commanded, walking inside the mansion as if he owned the place. She huffed a breath and followed him reluctantly. His attitude irritated her. He carried himself with arrogance, looking down on her as if she were beneath him. It instantly increased her dislike for him. He walked towards Killian's study. She sensed his direction and decided to head to her room instead. She couldn't bring herself to face Killian, not now, perhaps not ever. Aiden frowned when he noticed her going in a different direction."Where are you going?" he asked, frustration evident in his tone as he momentarily closed his eyes in exasperation before opening them again."To my room," She replied, confused by the sudden change in his demeanour."Yeah, I get that, Princess." He
(Trigger warning:- The chapter contains small violence)Amara always thought she had witnessed the cruel side of Killian and nothing could get worse than it. How wrong was she? Because at that moment, she knew the cruelty of Killian had no bounds. In the world of humans, he's a devil that lurks behind in the flesh and soul of a man. A heartless man who could cross any limits to satisfy his ego and strive back for revenge, even if it meant destroying the life of an innocent soul. The sight of Rose and Samuel tied to a pole with their hands hanging high filled her with dread. Their heads were hung low and body seemed as if it was on the verge of collapsing. Although they had no physical injuries on their body, their condition didn't look less than tortured, mentally and emotionally. They looked physically drained as if they didn't have any strength inside them. A strong arm encircled her waist, pulling her close against a rock-hard chest as if he owned her. Amara gasped as she felt K
"I have finally made you a monster like me, mi amor."The words pierced her heart, shattering it into fragments and cut through her soul until it was a bloodied mess.A monster? No.She couldn't be a monster. She would never be a monster. Yet, his words etched themselves into her mind, seeping into her veins, flowing through her bloodstream, and reminding her of the harsh reality she has faced. She looked at her hands. She could see the drops of blood on them, she could feel the blood on her flesh, tainting and ruining her sanity with its presence. Her teary eyes lifted to the sight of a bloodied Rose, her gaze broken and helpless. "I-I..." she choked, unable to form a single word. Her throat tightened, suffocating her, as a horrible pain gripped her heart and spread through her chest. She felt as if she were engulfed in flames, every fiber of her body burning in agonizing pain."Please... f-forgive me," she sobbed, stepping back from Rose. She couldn't bear to stand before her, una
Killian didn't answer her question that day. It was exactly two months ago.It was as if her question had ignited something deep within him, a fire that burned through the very core of his existence. Since then, he had been distant. Not physically—he was always there, in the room, in the mansion, even at the college. But emotionally, he was miles away. He ignored her as if she were invisible, dead in his eyes. Yet, there were moments when she caught him watching her, his gaze filled with a mix of hatred and something she couldn't quite decipher. It was confusing. His behavior struck her as odd, but she refrained from commenting on it. As long as he maintained his distance, she had nothing to worry about. She continued her college studies since Killian hadn't restricted her freedom in that regard. However, she remained acutely aware of her boundaries, knowing she shouldn't get too close to anyone. The traumatic incident with Rose and Samuel had left a deep scar within her and she kne
Killian held Amara close to him throughout the evening, his possessive grip becoming increasingly suffocating. Despite his frequent claims of hatred and his desire to be rid of her, it seemed he couldn't stand to be without her, his arm constantly wrapped around her waist. Each time a man approached them, his grip tightened, pulling her even closer as if to assert his claim on her. The men around them didn't fail to notice Killian's possessive behavior. His actions spoke volumes, sending a clear and unmistakable message that she was his, claimed by him, and anyone daring to challenge that claim would end up buried ten feet deep. Her small baby bump was visible, showing her status not only as his wife but also as the mother of his child. They knew the warning was clear: approaching her with any intention other than respect would only lead to lethal consequences. The outcome was inevitable—death. Only a fool would dare to get close to her and receive the end of Killian's wrath. Being
Amara stared at Derek, her eyes wide with fear. She recognized him as one of Killian's friends. She had seen him occasionally at college, always lingering with Killian's group. He had even visited the mansion once, but she had never interacted with him—Killian had strictly forbidden her from speaking to any man other than Aiden. There had been times when she caught Derek's gaze lingering on her, making her uncomfortable, but she had dismissed it as her imagination, overwhelmed by her senses. Now, she wished she had trusted her instincts. The man before her looked lethal, a predator ready to tear her apart and feast on her remains. "What are you doing? Leave me!" She shouted, struggling desperately against him. She tried to pull her wrist free from Derek's bruising grip but his hold was strong, and her efforts seemed futile against his strength. Derek's lips curled into a wicked smile as he watched her struggle and shout. "Keep shouting, Amara" he taunted, tightening his grip o
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
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