Eleanor's POV
I didn’t go down without a fight. I kicked and screamed, struggling against the chains restraining my wrists as Vincent’s dogs dragged me down the shadowy hallway. The iron cuffs bruised my skin, the chains twisting with each step.
But that didn’t matter. They had taken everything from me. They would not break my spirit. Whatever lay ahead, they would pay for their actions, they would surely pay.
******
The dark and shabby underground chamber was filled with the scent of cigars and pricey cologne. Heavily furnished, with expensive curtains and caged chandeliers casting sinister shadows over the faces of influential men gathered to bid.
I had heard rumors of such place before, a place where humans are being sold. Where women were treated as mere objects, like pieces of trash.
Where predators in tailored suits drink expensive whiskey while bargaining on human lives. At the heart of it all stood Vincent Moreau, that bastard, the man who destroyed me.
He remained beside me, calm and collected, as though he was not auctioning off a human being like he hadn’t allowed his men to disgrace me before putting me onto this platform.
"This one," Vincent declared, his tone smooth and steady. "A rare gem. Once the cherished wife of Damian Blackwood." A murmur spread through the crowd.
Some men leaned in, curiosity shown on their faces. Others smirked, casually sipping their drinks, waiting for a more enticing offer from him.
Vincent grinned. "She’s been… well-conditioned. But," he turned to me, holding my chin with his fingers, "she’s got fire in her. Unbroken. That makes her invaluable." I jerked my face away, glaring at him. "Burn in hell."
Laughter rippled through the audience. Vincent merely smiled. "Now, let the bidding commence."
And then I saw him. In the dim corner of the room, partially filled in darkness. He radiated power. I sensed it from the way others shifted uneasily when his piercing blue gaze swept over them. His face was unreadable, yet there was a strong aura about him.
Then our eyes locked into each other. Recognition flickered across his features. His gaze swept over the scars on my arms, the nearly healed wounds.
And at that moment, I understood. He had witnessed suffering like mine before. Because he had survived the same torment.
*****
"Five million," a voice called out. "Seven," another quickly replied.
Vincent leaned back, reveling in the spectacle. "Gentlemen, let's not dilly-dally. Who among you is eager to possess something truly priceless as this?"
"Ten million." The room fell silent and void of noise.
That voice belonged to the man in the shadows. All eyes turned toward him, and for the first time, Vincent’s confident smile showed.
I watched, my heart racing unsteadily.
"Mr. Kieran Lancaster," Vincent responded cautiously, "you’ve caught me off guard." That name rang a bell.
Kieran Lancaster the dangerous billionaire who had built a big empire from scratch. Ruthless, feared, untouchable.
A phantom in the world of business. And now, the man who had just bought me. Vincent’s smirk faded, tension creeping into his demeanor. "Going once, going twice"
"No one will challenge me?" Kieran's tone was steady, yet an undercurrent of authority flowed through, he was indeed powerful and really feared.
Silence.
The air was filled with anticipation. "Sold," Vincent finally announced, but his amusement had vanished. Something had changed. And Vincent was clearly not pleased.
The instant they unshackled me, I lashed out. I moved and kicked one of Vincent’s guards, sending him staggering backward. Another seized me, but I elbowed him hard in the ribs and in the mouth, forcing him to gasp for breath.
I bolted and twisted. Or at least I tried to fight those bastards, those people who don't have human feelings.
Before I could reach the exit, a powerful arm wrapped around my waist, dragging me back.
I screamed, kicking and thrashing, my nails digging into flesh.
"Let me go!"
"You belong to me now." The voice was deep and scary.
Not Vincent. The buyer. Kieran Lancaster. I fought fiercely. "I am not yours! I am not an object!"
"Then behave like it," he said, tightening his grip. "And I may allow you to live." Before I could reply, he carried me on his shoulder as if I weighed nothing.
I shouted curses, kicking wildly as he carried me past Vincent and the grinning vultures who had observed the auction.
I refused to stop fighting. Not now. Not ever.
****
The car ride was filled with tension. I sat in the backseat, my wrists tied again, my body paining from the struggle. Kieran Lancaster faced me across the seat, just observing me like it was an experiment to be tested. I wanted to break the silence and demand explanations, but I wouldn’t show weakness.
So I glared instead. He smirked. "You have quite a temper." I chose silence. "You’ll need to calm down if you want to survive."
A sharp laugh escaped me. "Why would I care about survival, huh?" His expression stayed unreadable, unmoved. "You should."
"Why?" I shot back. "You paid ten million for me. What are you after? A slave? A plaything? Go ahead and try. I dare you, bastard."
His eyes darkened. "You think I need to purchase women?"
I clenched my jaw. Then, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his calm voice concealed a dangerous edge.
"I don't desire your body, Eleanor Sinclair." My stomach twisted. He knew my real name.
Not the broken woman Vincent had attempted to market. I masked my surprise with indifference. "Then what do you want?"
He shook his head slightly. "I want a wife." Silence fell. I stared at him, expecting a punch line.
When none materialized, I laughed deliberately. "You’re delusional, dreaming." His lips curled into a faint smile. "Maybe." I narrowed my eyes. "Why me?"
His gaze pierced mine, unfazed. "Because I understand your desires." He replied slightly. "Revenge."
Chills ran down my body and soul. Kieran’s voice was smooth yet firm and strong. "You want to destroy Damian Blackwood. You yearn to destroy Vincent Moreau." His fingers drummed on the armrest. "And I can provide you with the means to do it."
I fought to maintain my blank expression, but my heart raced. He knew. Somehow, he knew.
Kieran assessed me before delivering the final blow.
"Play the role of my wife for one year, and I’ll help you take them both down." Air caught in my throat. My fists clenched so hard.
Many days of clawing my way back from hell. Days driven solely by revenge. And now, a man I hardly knew was offering me the one thing I had yearned for.
An opportunity to end them. But at what price? I met Kieran Lancaster’s cold, calculating gaze.
And for the first time since being thrust into this nightmare, I wasn't sure if I had escaped one monster…Only to walk directly into the arms of another….
Eleanor's POVI had hoped that my torment would stop once I was removed from Vincent's presence and cage. I never knew that more suffering and beating awaited me. I briefly thought that Kieran Lancaster might be my way out of a nightmare, my way out of severe punishment and bitterness, but I was mistaken. I was really wrong, so utterly mistaken.The mansion was really beautiful, with white designs, endless marble corridors, and fine chandeliers that shone like diamonds. It looks like a scene out of a fairytale in movies, yet to me, it felt like just another prison, a place where I didn’t fit in, a place where I looked like a dog, maybe. As soon as I entered, a deep sense of unwelcomeness ran over me, and I knew instantly that my suffering had just begun.I had not even gotten into the house before a loud sound of heels echoed carelessly down the hall like a drum, followed by a voice that reeked with cold hate.“So this is what you brought home?”I slowly turned my head, my body shakin
Eleanor's POVI thought I had seen the worst of Bianca's ruthlessness and wickedness when she forced me to lick her shoes in that disgusting bathroom. Yes she told me to lick her shoes, she forced my mouth on the tile, I licked poo and a lot of disgusting things.As soon as she finished dripping in my humiliation, she seized my hair and dragged me through the mansion, ignoring my protests and my shivering body as I stumbled on the icy floors with my bare feet, She really made me suffer."You're not finished yet, whore," she spat, pulling me into her big bedroom. "You have something else to clean for me."I was nearly too weak to stand, yet I forced myself to move, pain running through me with every step. When we reached her room, she flung the door open and pushed me inside.The disgusting odor of blood hit me immediately.Then I saw it.A heap of dirty clothes is on the floor, dark stains of dried menstrual blood staining the fabric.My stomach twisted violently, the smell was just t
ELEANOR The darkness swam around me when I opened my eyes.It was frightening, too, to open them and see Lady Lancaster standing alone with her son, Kieran, staring down at me with impersonal looks on their faces. I could have screamed out in horror of how much they made me think of evil—of demons standing by my bedside, with the flowing black clothes they wore and how white their faces seemed. Pale and vampire-like. “You're awake,” Kieran said, as though he needed to remind me.I made a feeble attempt to nod, but my body felt like lead and it made me want to cry. “Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?” And there, the bombshell dropped. It made my heart start to race, and my skin went damp in that instant. “The girl is weak, Kieran,” Lady Lancaster said, as a smile spread across her lips. “There is no need to ask her such questions, is it not. Besides, the baby from your so-called wife is gone, just like a balloon left off to go on its own.”There was a slight, almost inaudib
ELEANORIt was the oddest thing too, seeing that Kieran Lancaster was a little kinder after that.The slaps from his mother and sisters did not stop, and Lady Bianca Lancaster and her daughters hated me more than ever. She was even more disgusting and hateful after the miscarriage, and her acts, which ranged from mildly disgusting to very disgusting started to reach an all-time high, and, so much of it that I only found solace in telling myself that the woman tiptoed on the edge of madness, and without knowing of it herself. I was the most hated by her in the house, and it was soon clear to everyone when the depraved woman woke all and sundry with her loud cries one morning, yelling for every single breathing thing to come stand around her in a circle. All gathered as she asked, and saw her stand right before a clump of poo, her finger pointing straight at it.“Who did this?” She asked, turning about and looking everyone in the eyes.None claimed responsibility, and none did, because
ELEANORIt was true that Kieran Lancaster proved to be a breath of fresh air a number of times. It also was the one time he called me in to see him in the room. It was something he had never done before, as he was always careful to leave me alone when he wanted me to work inside. I walked in on that day while curious to know what he was about, and sat when he gestured for me to get in the seat.“It's been a year,” he told me, still exuding the aura of power from the very first day.“Already?” I asked him, aware that quite a long time had passed since he bought me as his.“Yes. It has been one year. And I called you to ask which you would choose. To be my slave and stand-in wife for another year, or to leave with what I would give you.”I did not need to think about it. For sure, I wanted my freedom, and I told him of it. He nodded, and pulled out a book that was far too rectangular to be anything but a checkbook.“You have been here for twelve months, and I will be giving you a thous
ELEANOR So much can change and become different in so little time. It was the same for me. Eleanor Sinclair.The first one, for example, was that I was returning to Kieran Lancaster's home after three years of being away from him. I had first come here at night, forced into the interior of his car. Now, I was coming in a car like before, but one with a chauffeur who had a crisp uniform on and held on tight to the steering wheel and stared ahead with maximum concentration.It was the same too, when I got out and started to go inside the house that belonged to the Lancaster. The last time I was here, I had rags for clothes, with each hole a testament to the beating and hitting that I endured as a slave in this very here house. Now, I had better clothes that would make those who saw me rank me among the affluent of society. These had no holes and did not show my skin to people who did not deserve to see it. Quiet swept through the faces of all who saw me too. They must have seen the c
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD I have spent my whole life climbing the ladder of power. It was all I was raised to do from the moment of my consciousness by my father, and from the very moment I understood enough about my environment to know that there was a hierarchy, and men ruled over men in that hierarchy. That those at the bottom suffered while those at the top enjoyed it, and that it took being made of steel to reach the top of that hierarchy and even stronger stuff to remain there. Weak people never remained there for long, but were thrown off for the stronger ones to remain. I have heard from a loudmouth once that I believe this because I had no mother to pamper me, with mine dying while she strove to give me life, leaving me with no one to look up to but my father. Whatever it was, I made sure the lips that uttered those words were struck, that they bled, and I promised they would never speak any words again if such were ever said. For who would dare to speak against my father, who rai
DAMIAN BLACKWOODI like to think of my turning fifteen as a peak for me.Before that, my father wanted me to be fearless, to be strong and to be wise. But on my fifteenth birthday, there was something new for me to see. It was an arc that would change my life forever.That night, he called me—not into his room as he usually would, but into the basement of our house, the Blackwood house. I walked into the darkness without fear and did not shudder when he suddenly spoke in the dark. I had seen the glow of his cigarette and knew who it was.“Damian Blackwood. You must know what your name means…” he spoke up, his voice echoing around the room.I stood, my legs at ease, feeling my muscles drawn taut over my chest as my arms spread from my body. It was how I was raised to stand, to show any staring at me that I felt no fear at whatever would happen.“Yes, Father.” I answered. “You named me Damian because the name means to master, and overcome. Just as your name is Victor, and you have never
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD I watched his face assume a sour expression that had disgust written all over it. “While I waited, Oliver came a number of weeks later to me,” he continued, his voice hardening. “He told me Vanilla had already been promised to someone else by their father to secure an alliance. When I asked if she had agreed to it, he swore that she did. I did not want to believe him, as I was sure that his sister was in love with me, but I trusted him as my friend and let go by stopping my visits and even asking about her. I buried it all and told myself I’d been a fool to fall for her, to think that she could love me as a Blackwood.”I watched him closely and found myself annoyed by the emotion that showed on his face. Only weak men let emotions get to them as far as I was concerned, as far as he taught me, and I could swear he was becoming weak.“A year later, I found out the truth,” he continued, now closing the fist that had held the cigarette. “I started raising the Blackwood
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD That night, on my return, I had a very long talk with my father. We sat on either side of a table in his room, father to son, and there remained quiet for so long that I wondered if we were going to say anything at all. “You didn't tell me a deal with the Blacks was what was on your mind. I hate that family.” He began looking me over.“I did what was best for us to do. You'll see it in a few months, and you will know that I made the right choice.”“I trust you, boy. I know I raised you well, and I feel pride over what you did. But I still hate the Blacks,” he said, bringing out a video recording of me speaking to Michael Black and playing it. There was a look of pride upon his face, but I could only think of how someone had recorded me without knowing. I felt an inner surge of rage over this, that one of the men I went with would do this without telling me. How dare he—whoever he was- undermine my power. To consider me a boy who needed to be watched by his father…
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD Again, the man who whispered to him as I entered the room began another series of silent discussions with him, and I waited for them to finish. A minute later, they were done.“And what is this business proposal of yours, young Blackwood?”I rose and cleared my throat. I wanted to convince him.“I love my father, Victor Blackwood,” I began, and saw the old man before me raise his eyebrows. Still, I was not done. “He is dear to me and has taught me everything I now know. He has raised me to be a man, and I want to do him a favour back. He is growing old and fails to see how many opportunities that our locale, Vieuti, carries. I can see them, however, and I want to use all of them.”“What do you mean?”“Vieuti is a place that has been home to the Blackwoods for years. We rose from among them to serve them, and have carried out their murders and brought them the drugs they want for their euphoria. The only thing is, my family has sold the same kind of drugs for the pas
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD In the three years that passed, I showed more and more of my Blackwood character.The basement became a second home to me, and I navigated the place so often that I could make my way through with my eyes shut. The other room it ended in was only one of the many Blackwood storerooms to hide our weapons—I was told that it was the oldest of them, connected to the Blackwood family home when it was built a hundred years before, yet it was my favourite. It filled me with a kind of spirit that made me feel as though I was fulfilling history and about to make some of mine. It always had a damp smell, that and something else, which I suspected was the drugs. Still, my father had given me a strict warning never to use drugs. “Anything that causes you to become a slave to it is dangerous,” he would say. “Be it drugs, love, or a woman. A Blackwood is never a slave, but is born to rule.”From the moment of my first kill, I knew I wanted to own it all. My father was not dead yet,
DAMIAN BLACKWOODI like to think of my turning fifteen as a peak for me.Before that, my father wanted me to be fearless, to be strong and to be wise. But on my fifteenth birthday, there was something new for me to see. It was an arc that would change my life forever.That night, he called me—not into his room as he usually would, but into the basement of our house, the Blackwood house. I walked into the darkness without fear and did not shudder when he suddenly spoke in the dark. I had seen the glow of his cigarette and knew who it was.“Damian Blackwood. You must know what your name means…” he spoke up, his voice echoing around the room.I stood, my legs at ease, feeling my muscles drawn taut over my chest as my arms spread from my body. It was how I was raised to stand, to show any staring at me that I felt no fear at whatever would happen.“Yes, Father.” I answered. “You named me Damian because the name means to master, and overcome. Just as your name is Victor, and you have never
DAMIAN BLACKWOOD I have spent my whole life climbing the ladder of power. It was all I was raised to do from the moment of my consciousness by my father, and from the very moment I understood enough about my environment to know that there was a hierarchy, and men ruled over men in that hierarchy. That those at the bottom suffered while those at the top enjoyed it, and that it took being made of steel to reach the top of that hierarchy and even stronger stuff to remain there. Weak people never remained there for long, but were thrown off for the stronger ones to remain. I have heard from a loudmouth once that I believe this because I had no mother to pamper me, with mine dying while she strove to give me life, leaving me with no one to look up to but my father. Whatever it was, I made sure the lips that uttered those words were struck, that they bled, and I promised they would never speak any words again if such were ever said. For who would dare to speak against my father, who rai
ELEANOR So much can change and become different in so little time. It was the same for me. Eleanor Sinclair.The first one, for example, was that I was returning to Kieran Lancaster's home after three years of being away from him. I had first come here at night, forced into the interior of his car. Now, I was coming in a car like before, but one with a chauffeur who had a crisp uniform on and held on tight to the steering wheel and stared ahead with maximum concentration.It was the same too, when I got out and started to go inside the house that belonged to the Lancaster. The last time I was here, I had rags for clothes, with each hole a testament to the beating and hitting that I endured as a slave in this very here house. Now, I had better clothes that would make those who saw me rank me among the affluent of society. These had no holes and did not show my skin to people who did not deserve to see it. Quiet swept through the faces of all who saw me too. They must have seen the c
ELEANORIt was true that Kieran Lancaster proved to be a breath of fresh air a number of times. It also was the one time he called me in to see him in the room. It was something he had never done before, as he was always careful to leave me alone when he wanted me to work inside. I walked in on that day while curious to know what he was about, and sat when he gestured for me to get in the seat.“It's been a year,” he told me, still exuding the aura of power from the very first day.“Already?” I asked him, aware that quite a long time had passed since he bought me as his.“Yes. It has been one year. And I called you to ask which you would choose. To be my slave and stand-in wife for another year, or to leave with what I would give you.”I did not need to think about it. For sure, I wanted my freedom, and I told him of it. He nodded, and pulled out a book that was far too rectangular to be anything but a checkbook.“You have been here for twelve months, and I will be giving you a thous
ELEANORIt was the oddest thing too, seeing that Kieran Lancaster was a little kinder after that.The slaps from his mother and sisters did not stop, and Lady Bianca Lancaster and her daughters hated me more than ever. She was even more disgusting and hateful after the miscarriage, and her acts, which ranged from mildly disgusting to very disgusting started to reach an all-time high, and, so much of it that I only found solace in telling myself that the woman tiptoed on the edge of madness, and without knowing of it herself. I was the most hated by her in the house, and it was soon clear to everyone when the depraved woman woke all and sundry with her loud cries one morning, yelling for every single breathing thing to come stand around her in a circle. All gathered as she asked, and saw her stand right before a clump of poo, her finger pointing straight at it.“Who did this?” She asked, turning about and looking everyone in the eyes.None claimed responsibility, and none did, because