LOGINShare
Chapter 2: The living soul
Last Updated:
2025-02-26 01:59:56Days turned to weeks, weeks to months, and I lost count of time. My life had become a cycle of filth, men, and silence. I didn’t fight it anymore—I had stopped fighting long ago. My stepmother had no use for me outside of what I could earn for her, and so I became nothing more than a tool. A body without a soul.
One evening, I sat by the window of the small, crumbling room I called home, staring out at the dark street below. The air was thick with the scent of rain, though the clouds refused to weep. My body ached from the night before, but pain had long since become a familiar companion. Somewhere in the distance, a child was laughing—carefree, untouched by the horrors of the world. I envied that child. “Winnie,” my stepmother’s voice sliced through the silence. I turned slowly, unwilling, uninterested. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes filled with that familiar hatred. “There’s a man waiting for you downstairs,” she said flatly. I didn’t answer. I simply stood up, straightened my ragged dress, and walked past her, feeling her cold eyes on my back as I descended the stairs. The man waiting for me wasn’t like the others. He wasn’t old or reeking of alcohol. He was young, clean, and well-dressed, his sharp eyes watching me as I approached. Something about him unsettled me. “You’re Winnie,” he said. It wasn’t a question. I nodded. “I’ve heard about you.” He smirked, tilting his head. “I must say, I expected someone… different.” I didn’t ask what he meant. I had stopped caring about words long ago. “I have an offer for you,” he continued, his voice smooth, calculated. “One that doesn’t involve rotting in this place forever.” I frowned. No one had ever spoken to me like this before. No one had ever offered me anything but pain. He leaned forward, his voice dropping lower. “Come with me, and I’ll show you a different kind of life.” A part of me wanted to laugh. Another part of me—one I thought had died—felt something strange. Hope? No. Hope was a lie. And yet, I found myself asking, “What kind of life?” His smirk deepened. “One where you’re in control.” For the first time in a long time, I hesitated. And in that hesitation, my fate began to change. I stared at the man before me, trying to read his expression. There was something dangerous in his eyes, something unreadable. Men had always looked at me like I was nothing more than a product—a thing to be bought, used, discarded. But this one? He looked at me like I was an investment. “Control?” I scoffed, crossing my arms. “What do you know about control?” He chuckled, leaning back in his seat. “Enough to know you don’t have any.” I clenched my jaw, but he wasn’t wrong. My life wasn’t mine. It belonged to my stepmother, to the men who paid for my time, to a world that had no mercy for the weak. “Who are you?” I finally asked. He smiled, slow and knowing. “Call me Damien.” Damien. The name curled in my mind like smoke, thick and inescapable. “And what do you want from me?” He tilted his head. “I want to offer you something better. A way out.” I laughed, a hollow, broken sound. “There is no way out.” “There is,” he countered smoothly. “But it’s not free.” Of course it wasn’t. Nothing in this world was. I leaned against the wooden table, eyes narrowing. “And what exactly would I have to do?” His smirk remained, but there was something darker in it now. “You’ve been selling yourself for pennies. I’m offering you power. Protection. A new identity.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping lower. “But you’ll work for me.” A cold feeling spread through my chest. “Doing what?” “You’re smart, Winnie. You know how to survive. You know how to make men want you.” He paused. “I need women like you. Not the kind who kneel, but the kind who learn how to make others kneel instead.” I swallowed hard. His words were coated in poison, but for the first time in my life, someone was offering me something more than suffering. A choice. A risk. A chance. I could stay. I could keep rotting under my stepmother’s control, watching my body waste away in a life that had already stolen everything from me. Or I could take his hand and step into the unknown. I met his gaze, steady and unflinching. “What do I have to do?” His smirk widened. “Come with me, and I’ll show you.” And just like that, my fate was no longer my own.
Related chapters
Shattered chain Chapter 3: A deal with the devil
The rain had started again by the time I stepped outside. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and burning trash, a smell I had long since associated with my childhood. I should have been afraid—I was leaving behind everything I had ever known, walking into the unknown with a man whose intentions were a mystery. But fear was a luxury I could no longer afford. Damien led me through the narrow, dimly lit streets, his pace steady, his steps confident. He wasn’t from here. I could tell by the way he walked, the way people moved out of his path without him even looking at them. He had power. Influence. And I had no choice but to follow. We stopped in front of a sleek black car parked at the end of the alley. It looked out of place against the backdrop of broken-down homes and rusting street signs. He opened the door and gestured for me to get in. I hesitated. “This is your last chance to back out,” he said, watching me carefully. “Once you step into this car, there’s no t
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Shattered chain Chapter 4: Rebirth in fire
The room was large, dimly lit by golden lamps that cast shadows against the deep red walls. A large mirror stood against one side, framed in black and gold. A vanity table was positioned in front of it, covered with bottles of perfume, tubes of lipstick, and brushes that looked untouched. In the center of the room was a chaise lounge, upholstered in velvet. A dress lay draped over it, deep crimson, almost the same shade as dried blood. Selene leaned against the doorframe, watching me with amusement. “Strip,” she said. I turned to her, my body stiff. “Excuse me?” She tilted her head, her dark eyes glinting. “Take off your clothes.” I clenched my fists. “If this is some kind of—” “It’s not,” she interrupted smoothly. “But if you want to survive here, you’re going to have to let go of whatever shame you’re still clinging to. Clothes, Winnie. Now.” I swallowed hard, my throat dry. My hands trembled as I reached for the hem of my dress, my heart pounding in my chest. I had be
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Shattered chain Chapter 5: The Art of Deception
The morning after my first night in the lounge, I woke to the sound of rain tapping against the window. The room I had been given was larger than anything I had ever slept in before, with dark wooden floors and silk sheets that felt like water against my skin. But luxury didn’t erase years of suffering. I still felt like an outsider in my own life, an imposter wearing someone else’s skin. A knock at the door snapped me out of my thoughts. “Come in,” I said, sitting up. “Did you sleep?” she asked. I hesitated before nodding. “A little.” She smirked, clearly not believing me. “Get up. Today, your training begins.” I pulled the blanket around my shoulders. “Training for what?” Selene tilted her head. “For survival, Winnie. You want power? You need to earn it.” I exhaled slowly, then forced myself out of bed. Selene gestured toward the tray. “Eat first. You’ll need the energy.” I hesitated before picking up a slice of fruit, chewing slowly. My body had long since learn
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Shattered chain Chapter 6: The first move
The city looked different at night. The neon lights cast a hazy glow over the streets, turning shadows into something alive. The air smelled of rain, cigarettes, and the lingering scent of expensive cologne. Selene walked beside me, her heels tapping against the pavement. She had dressed me in a sleek black dress, one that hugged my body just enough to make men turn their heads but not enough to give them what they wanted. That, she said, was the trick—always leave them wanting. We approached a high-end bar on the corner of the street. The gold-plated sign above the door read Eden. The name didn’t fit. This wasn’t paradise—it was a hunting ground. Selene stopped before the entrance and turned to me. “Tonight, you’re going to practice.” I frowned. “Practice what?” She smirked. “Control.” My stomach tightened, but I nodded. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of whiskey and expensive perfume. The music was soft, a slow jazz tune that made the atmosphere feel almost in
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Shattered chain Chapter 7: A game of mask
The next night, I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the silk dress Selene had chosen for me. Midnight blue, with a slit running up the side—elegant but dangerous. The kind of dress that whispered promises but never made any guarantees. Selene watched from the doorway, arms crossed. “You’re nervous.” I scoffed, smoothing my hair. “No, I’m just—” “Nervous,” she repeated, smirking. “It’s normal. First time walking into the lion’s den on your own.” I turned to face her. “And Michael Devereaux is the lion?” She tilted her head. “One of them. But don’t make the mistake of thinking he’s the only one watching.” That sent a shiver down my spine. I exhaled slowly. “So what’s the real goal here? You trained me, dressed me up, sent me into that bar—what does Damien really want?” Selene’s smirk softened just a little. “You’re smart, Winnie. You’ll figure it out.” I hated that answer. But I hated feeling powerless even more. Eden looked just as it had the night before, b
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Shattered chain Chapter 8: A devil bargain
I was beginning to understand that I wasn’t just caught in a game—I was the piece everyone wanted to move. And I hated that. A cigarette flared in the darkness. I knew before I saw him that Damien was waiting. “You’ve been busy.” His voice was smooth, casual, but I wasn’t stupid. There was always an edge to Damien’s words, a blade hidden beneath silk. I leaned against the brick wall, crossing my arms. “You tell me to get close to Michael. Now you’re acting like I did something wrong?” Damien chuckled softly, stepping into the glow of the streetlamp. He was always impeccably dressed, like nothing in the world could ever touch him. “I didn’t say you did anything wrong, sweetheart. But you went to his place.” I shrugged, feigning indifference. “That was the point, wasn’t it?” He studied me for a long moment, exhaling smoke into the night. “What did he tell you?” Damien finally asked. I hesitated, then met his gaze. “He asked if you own me.” A slow, knowing smile spread across D
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Shattered chain Chapter 9: The first strike
The number Michael had given me burned a hole in my pocket. I hadn’t called it. Not yet. But I carried it with me everywhere, like a secret, like a weapon I wasn’t sure I was ready to use. Because once I did, there would be no turning back. Damien had made that clear. Michael had made that clear. And I was stuck in the space between them, walking the edge of a knife. --- I was behind the bar at Edenwhen the first sign of trouble arrived. It was a man I had seen before—one of Damien’s enforcers. Big, mean, the kind of guy who had never heard the word “no” and didn’t know what to do when he did. His name was Carter, and he wasn’t here for a drink. He leaned against the bar, giving me a lazy smile. “You’ve been quiet.” I poured a drink for another customer, ignoring him. “Didn’t realize I had to check in.” Carter chuckled, but there was no humor in it. “Damien wants to see you.” My stomach twisted. I glanced around the lounge. Selene was watching from
Last Updated : 2025-02-26Shattered chain Chapter 10: The first cut
The plan wasn’t simple. It wasn’t safe. But neither was I. Michael had given me two choices—walk away and survive, or stay and burn it all down with him. And I had already made my choice. There was no walking away from this. Not anymore. The first step was to convince Damien that I was still his. That meant playing the part. So the next night, I went back to Eden, back to Damien’s world, and I let him think he still had control over me. I laughed at his jokes. I followed his orders. I let him believe I was still the girl he had taken in years ago—desperate and obedient. But inside, I was sharpening my knife. Waiting for the moment to strike. Selene found me at the bar, her presence a quiet weight beside me. She didn’t speak at first, just watched as I nursed the drink Damien had sent over. Whiskey. Neat. He always liked to test me with it, watching to see if I’d flinch at the burn. I didn’t. Selene sighed, finally breaking the silence. “You’re doing the right thing.” I
Last Updated : 2025-02-26
Latest chapter
Shattered chain Chapter 26: Under the Surface
The next few days blurred into a haze of strategizing and sleepless nights. Michael’s leads on Vasquez had hit dead ends more often than not, but we couldn’t afford to sit still. Elena Varas wasn’t just a ghost in the system anymore. She was a force, moving through the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike. And we had to be ready. Carter had been quieter lately. Not in the way he used to be—shutting down or holding back—but in the way someone does when they’ve accepted that the storm is coming, and there’s nothing left to do but face it head-on. We spent hours going over every possible scenario—how we’d take down Vasquez, how we’d neutralize Elena. But it always came back to the same thing: we needed leverage. And we didn’t have it yet. It was late afternoon when Michael called with an update. He’d found something—a name, a location, a possible way into Vasquez’s network. “I’ve been digging through some older files,” Michael said, his voice low. “Vasquez has a private c
Shattered chain Chapter 25: Beneath the Surface
The sun hadn’t fully risen when we left Michael’s safehouse, the streets still ghostly quiet. The city felt smaller, quieter, like the looming threat had pressed down on everything—making the familiar seem distant, and the dangerous, close. Carter drove, his hands tight on the wheel, his jaw set in that way that told me he was thinking—thinking too much. His focus was all sharp lines, all shadows. I could see it in the way his eyes darted to every mirror, every car that passed. “You’re not sleeping again,” I said softly, my hand resting on his thigh. His fingers twitched. But he didn’t pull away. “I’m fine.” “You’re not,” I said, squeezing his leg. “You’re carrying too much. Let me help you.” He glanced at me briefly, his lips curling into that small smile I loved. “You already do.” I turned away, watching the city blur past, the cold breeze from the cracked window ruffling my hair. “Michael’s right,” I said. “This Elena—she’s not just some freelancer. She’s someone’s eyes. Some
Shattered chain Chapter 24: Closer Than We Think
The next morning, the apartment was quiet—but neither of us really slept. Carter paced, barefoot, tension crackling off him like static. I watched from the kitchen counter, nursing a lukewarm cup of tea I didn’t remember making. “She didn’t follow us,” I said softly. “At least, not that we saw.” “That’s the problem.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “She didn’t have to.” There was a new kind of fear in his voice—one I hadn’t heard before. Not the panicked kind that came from bullets or being hunted. This one was colder. Smarter. Because it meant someone was playing a longer game. “She smiled at me,” I murmured. “Like she knew something.” “She probably did.” I stood and crossed to him, pressing my hands to his chest. “Then we figure it out. Together. Okay?” His hands came up, holding my waist. “Together,” he echoed. I leaned into him. “We don’t run anymore.” He kissed me—slow and deep. “No. We fight.” Michael called an hour later. “I know who she is,” he said without preambl
Shattered chain Chapter 23: A Taste of Normal
The coffee shop was small—barely more than a few tables and a bar near the window. But it smelled like heaven. Roasted beans, cinnamon, vanilla… like safety wrapped in warmth. Carter held the door open for me, the little brass bell jingling above us as we stepped inside. It was the first time we’d been out—really out—since everything fell apart. No back alleys, no stolen cars, no motel rooms with peeling paint and bloodstained towels. Just… a café. A quiet street. A moment of peace. I breathed it in, every second of it. “I feel like we’re playing dress-up,” I said, glancing down at my oversized sweater and jeans. Carter smirked. “You look like yourself.” That shouldn’t have made my heart flutter the way it did. But it did. He looked like himself too—his hoodie clean, his boots not scuffed from running or fighting. No bruises. No bandages. Just him. Alive. Here. With me. We ordered two coffees and sat by the window. Outside, the sky was soft gray, the kind that held off rain but
Shattered chain Chapter 22: Pieces of Quiet
Morning came slow. Golden light filtered through the curtains, soft and warm, the kind of light that made you forget—if only for a moment—that the world could be cruel. I stirred beneath the covers, my body tangled with Carter’s. He was still asleep, one arm draped over my waist, his breath steady against the back of my neck. Safe. For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt safe. I didn’t move for a while. Just listened to the rain taper off outside, the gentle rhythm of the city waking up around us. In another world, this could have been normal. Coffee. Breakfast. Kisses goodbye before work. But our normal was never soft like this. It had edges. Scars. Blood beneath the surface. Still… for now, this was enough. Eventually, Carter stirred, his voice raspy with sleep. “Are you watching me sleep again?” I smiled. “Maybe.” He shifted onto his back, stretching. The blanket slid down his chest, revealing the faint, silvered scar near his shoulder. The one he got saving me
Shattered chain Chapter 21: Closer Than Before
Carter’s knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the table, eyes locked on the photographs. He’d gone through them three times already, as if each pass would reveal some secret he’d missed. “It’s not over.” The words burned in the space between us like a fuse waiting to ignite. “This handwriting,” he muttered. “It’s too clean. Someone wanted you to read it clearly. No smudges, no rush. This was intentional.” I sat across from him on the couch, arms wrapped around my knees. “You think it’s a message?” He looked up at me, his gaze softening. “It’s a statement. A warning, maybe. Or bait.” “For what?” He didn’t answer. Just leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his dark curls. The bruises and scars along his arms had faded, but the shadows in his eyes hadn’t. “Do you think it’s someone from Damien’s network?” I asked quietly. “Could be.” He glanced at the last photo again. “But this doesn’t feel like them. Damien’s people weren’t subtle. They didn’t need to be.”
Shattered chain Chapter 20: The Quiet Before
It was raining again. Not the kind of storm that howled or cracked the sky open—just a steady drizzle, soft and constant. The kind that made the air smell like wet earth and whispered to the world to slow down, just for a while. I stood at the edge of the open field behind my new apartment, the wild grass tickling my legs, a worn sweater wrapped around my shoulders. For the first time in years, I wasn’t running. I wasn’t hiding. I was just… breathing. Life after Damien was strange in a way I hadn’t expected. I thought freedom would be loud—celebratory, victorious. But instead, it was quiet. It crept in softly, like sunlight through closed blinds. I didn’t realize I was free until I woke up one morning and didn’t feel fear curled in my stomach like a fist. Carter was healing. Slowly. He’d just started walking again—short distances, with a cane—but every step felt like a triumph. I’d been by his side through most of it, watching him fight his way back from the edge of death. And s
Shattered chain Chapter 19: Ashes and Aftermath
The world didn’t change overnight. The sun still rose. The traffic still honked its daily symphony through congested streets. People still went to work, grumbling about bosses and bills. They still laughed. Still cried. Still lived. But for us, everything had changed. The headlines screamed Damien’s name for days—then weeks. “Underworld Kingpin Exposed in Explosive Leak.” “Corruption Scandal Shakes City to Its Core.” “Justice Served—But At What Cost?” His face was everywhere, though none of the photos captured the monster he truly was. Just a well-dressed man in expensive suits, half-smiles that now made my skin crawl. They turned him into a symbol—of fear, of failure, of everything wrong with the system. Carter was still recovering. Three surgeries. Dozens of stitches. Metal in his bones and a lifetime’s worth of pain etched into the lines of his face. He didn’t complain. Not once. But I saw it—in the tightness of his jaw, in the way his hand trembled when he thought I wasn’t lo
Shattered chain Chapter 18: conquering
The city was quiet. Too quiet. I stood in the dimly lit motel room, gripping the black case in my hands. Inside, the proof that could destroy Damien lay untouched. It felt heavier than it should have—like it carried the weight of every scar, every wound, every life he had shattered. Michael sat on the edge of the bed, checking his gun. Carter leaned against the wall, still weak but determined. We had made it this far. We couldn’t stop now. “This is it,” Michael said, sliding in the last bullet. “We expose him tonight, or we die trying.” I swallowed hard. “We’re not dying.” Michael smirked. “That’s the spirit.” Carter exhaled. “Are you sure this will work?” I looked at the flash drive in my palm—the key to ending Damien once and for all. “It has to.” --- We had a plan. The evidence was going to be leaked. Not just to the police. Not just to the press. To *everyone.* Live. Public. Unstoppable. We hacked into a news station’s broadcast. It wasn’t
