AVERY’S POV:I hadn’t grasped the magnitude of it all until more people came into the room shortly after Detective Harrington left. Questions started—waves of them, relentless, from every corner of authority. Each leader came in with a new set of demands, forcing me to recount my story again and again. Through their barrage of inquiries, I began to piece together the truth about Mr. Axel Blackwood, my supposed new husband. Axel Blackwood wasn’t just a billionaire CEO; he was a name that carried both reverence and fear. His life-saving empire masked a darkness that was none of my business—until now. And yet, I had seen something darker. Something that didn’t fit the polished image. I had seen him kill a man. Not out of self-defense, not in a moment of chaos—he had done it with the kind of cold certainty that made me question whether I was standing before a man or something far more dangerous. His fortress of a home was no mere estate. It was a stronghold, built to guard secrets tha
AVERY’S POV:My gaze dropped to the black loafers placed at the foot of the bed. Functional, basic—just another part of my life that screamed, "borrowed." Sliding them on, I winced as the stiff leather rubbed against the bruises and cuts on my feet. Every step I took hurt. The loud knock on the door startled me before I could investigate the tattoo any further. The two officers were impatiently asking me to come with them. They barely gave me time to gather my drugs before ushering me out of the room. The hospital corridor felt like a tunnel, narrow and endless as we walked toward the exit. Outside, a gray police car waited by the curb. One officer, the taller of the two, pulled the back door open for me. “Right this way, ma’am,” he instructed. I hesitated. Something about them didn’t sit right with me. Call it paranoia or the instincts I’d sharpened during three years behind bars, but I’d seen enough officers to know how they carried themselves. These two weren’t it. Their
AVERY’S POV: I don’t know how long I was out. Time slipped away like sand through my fingers, but the overwhelming heat jolted me back to consciousness. My body burned. No, it wasn’t just hot—it felt like the very air around me had ignited, biting in on my skin with the fury of a flame. I blinked, fighting against the blur clouding my vision. Something burned, and something was on fire. The haze of flames flickered in my peripheral vision, but the world around me was still swimming, out of focus. I groaned, my throat raw as if I’d screamed for hours, but my lips barely moved. I tried to focus again, blinking rapidly, forcing my eyes to steady themselves.I felt the pain. My head was pounding, my nose was bleeding, and when I tried to move, I felt the jagged pull of my body against the restraints. I could taste the copper of my own blood. I was strapped into the car—no, hung upside down. My vision threatened to slip away again as I tried to gather the strength to act.I reached for t
AXEL’S POV:"Why can't I see you?" she asked, her voice shaking out of curiosity and frustration. She should’ve known better than to question me, to test the boundaries of my control. Yet, instead of reprimanding her for the insolence, I let it pass. I didn’t know why. Maybe it was the fleeting novelty of something else occupying my mind, though it wouldn't last long. My hands tightened on her hips, keeping her exactly where I wanted. "Because you don't need to," I said flatly. I drove into her with precision, every thrust deliberate and unrelenting. Her moans filled the space between us, loud and raw, but they barely registered in my mind. My focus was elsewhere, locked in the cold grip of my memories. It wasn’t about her. It never was. No woman I touched had ever been more than a means to an end. A distraction. A release. They were faceless, nameless—blindfolded to keep them from looking at me and seeing what I couldn’t bear to confront. But her. The one woman who’d slippe
AXEL’S POV:The room was simple. No need for complicated furnishing since I occasionally used this house. Mahogany furniture, custom-designed chandeliers, and marble floor. The walls were a muted shade of gray, adorned with minimalist art—pieces chosen for their precision rather than emotion. A bar sat in the corner, stocked with top-shelf liquor that rarely saw use. The air smelled faintly of leather and cigars, though I neither smoked nor lingered here long enough to drink. Grabbing my suit jacket and phone, I stepped into the corridor, where over thirty men stood at attention. Their heads were bowed in reverence, their black suits masking the firepower some carried beneath. A few had shoulder holsters peeking out, straps taut against their broad frames. These weren’t just men—they were soldiers bound to me by loyalty and fear, their lives pledged by an oath I ensured they would never dare break. Walking past them, not a single head rose as I moved through their ranks. My presenc
AXEL’S POV:Cedric's words felt like a heavy burden that was hard to shake off. I wanted to dismiss him outright, but his voice carried sincerity. He looked at me, not as a feared man or a killer, but as someone he cared about—like a father would a son.I forced a dry laugh. "That's rich, Cedric. God? For someone like me?" I shook my head, incredulous. "You’ve been with me for years, patching up my men, stitching the ones I tortured just so I could tear them apart again. You’ve seen it all. Yet you think God has room for someone like me?" I sought. "If He does exist, where was He for the ones I’ve killed? The ones who begged for mercy? Explain that to me."Cedric’s expression didn’t change. He placed his briefcase down and leaned closer, his hand firm but warm on my shoulder. "Axel," he began, "you’re right. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. I’ve seen the destruction you’ve left behind. But God doesn’t weigh your sins when He’s offering to save you. That’s not how it works. You’re dyi
"Mr. Blackwood," he started, "sorry for barging into your office—" "You better be," I cut him off. "And it better be for a damn good reason." The man straightened, trying to recover. "I'm Detective Harrington Smith," he said. I tilted my head, unimpressed. Surveying the man at the front of the pack, I was able to tell that he was middle-aged, balding, and reeked of bureaucratic arrogance. He tried to look confident, but his shifting eyes gave him away. "And?" Slowly, I removed my hand from the button and clasped it with the other, resting them on my desk. "I know you don’t often get visits like this—" "Because I’m a very busy man," I interrupted again, my patience thinning. "And I hate being interrupted by people who can’t justify their presence. So, tell me why you’re here and get the hell out." Detective Smith hesitated, then placed a document on my desk. A search warrant. I didn’t touch it. My eyes skimmed the bolded text as he continued. "We’re here because a woma
AVERY’S POV:I lost all sense of time as I stumbled deeper into the endless expanse of woods, my body heavy with exhaustion. My muscles throbbed, my throat burned with thirst, and my stomach churned, empty and relentless in its protest. Lightheaded from starvation and dehydration, I trudged forward, though each step felt like a battle I was losing. The jagged sting of my untreated wounds showed my vulnerability; the thought of infection worried my sanity. My clothes hung in tatters, clinging to my bruised skin. Now, under the shade of a towering oak, I collapsed, seeking reprieve from the unforgiving sun. Its light filtered through the canopy, harsh even in this supposed refuge. For the first time in days, I questioned why I was fighting at all. Maybe life wasn’t worth it anymore. Freedom had once seemed like a promise—a bright, shining thing waiting for me outside those prison gates. But since stepping into the open air, all I’d found was war. One unrelenting battle after anoth
AXEL’S POV:The door creaked slightly as I pushed it open, revealing a modest bathroom. I clicked the door shut behind me and leaned heavily against it despite the sting in my legs. My chest heaved as I exhaled, eyes darting over the bathroom's simple layout. The tiles were spotless, gleaming under the soft glow of recessed lighting. A simple shower stall stood in the corner, its glass door streak-free. On the counter beside the sink, neatly folded towels and small bottles of shampoo and body wash awaited me, their clean, floral scent a reminder of how desperately I needed them. Stripping off Axel's jacket, I tossed it onto the floor and grabbed the new toothbrush sitting on the counter. For the first time in what felt like days, I allowed myself the luxury of slowness. Each stroke of the toothbrush over my teeth was methodical, each swish of mouthwash a small victory. I even took my time flossing, savoring the strange normalcy of it. The shower beckoned next. Stepping under the
AVERY’S POV:“Follow me,” Axel ordered, the first words he’d spoken since entering the room. Without another glance, he turned his back to me, striding toward the door with the unyielding confidence of someone who expected obedience. I stood frozen, my mind a whirlpool of indecision. My gaze flitted between the lifeless bodies sprawled on the ground, the coat draped over aching skin, and Axel’s broad shoulders retreating ahead of me. Should I stay here, in this concrete hellhole where at least I knew what to expect? If death was inevitable, would it be easier to face it here, where I could see it coming? Or should I follow him, trading one unknown for another, gambling on the faintest possibility of survival? I inhaled shakily, perceiving the metallic tang of blood and my own sweat. My knees screamed in protest as I forced myself to stand. My legs wobbled beneath me like a newborn fawn’s, unsteady and weak after days of immobility. Every muscle in my body felt as though it had
AXEL’S POV:From the moment the door creaked open, humiliation poured in like a flood. They hadn’t just locked me away—they’d stripped me of every shred of dignity, leaving me stark naked and freezing in this damp concrete cell. Axel’s men treated me like a toy, their sickening laughter echoing as they took turns hurling crude comments and vile advances my way. Even now, their eyes raked over my bruised, filthy body with revolting hunger, as if my brokenness made me more desirable. My skin reeked from days without a shower, my teeth unbrushed, my breath stale. I could feel my bladder screaming, the pain sharpening with every second I couldn’t relieve it. I prayed for death—but death didn’t come. And here I was again, cornered by two of them. One grinned as he unzipped his pants, exposing himself like it was a joke. "I don’t know why the boss hasn’t let us have our fun yet," he sneered. "I can’t wait to tear you apart with my big dick." The other, a hulking figure with dreadloc
AXEL’S POV:The flashlight’s beam cut through the dimness, revealing rows of neatly stacked bags, each meticulously labeled. I opened one, inspecting the dried herbs within. They were fragile, their leaves a unique shade of deep green with veins that shimmered faintly under the light. This plant was rare—found only in the most remote corners of the world. Its value lay in its potential, though few knew the extent of it. Satisfied, I exited the container, stripping off the gear and tossing it aside. Bruno stood a few inches away. His short, stout frame seemed to expand, taking up more space than his actual size warranted. His broad shoulders and barrel chest strained against the seams of his tight-fitting shirt, giving him a faintly menacing appearance.His overbearing presence was suffocating. The faint scent of his overpowering cologne further amplifying his already overwhelming presence. His very proximity was almost unbearable. I hated it. “Everything’s in order,” I announced
AXEL’S POV:The Manhattan docks reeked of salt, rust, and a thin veil of danger that no amount of floodlights could dispel. My boots clicked against the worn concrete as I stepped off the private pier, the chill of the night cutting through the black wool of my coat. Four grueling hours of oversight had passed. My team and I had inspected every corner of the seaport, ensuring the perimeter was secure, every guard in place, and all surveillance equipment operational. I never left things to chance. Not there. Not that night. The shipment had finally arrived—three massive cargo ships docked at my Manhattan seaport. That location was a fortress. I controlled the authorities, paid off anyone who mattered, and left the rest too terrified to intervene. No one dared interfere. I stopped at the edge of the docks, letting the scene unfold. The air smelled of salt and iron, a mix of the ocean breeze and the lingering scent of metal containers baking under industrial lights. Three ships, thei
AXEL’S POV:"I’m sorry about that," he said, his voice dripping with insincerity. "It seems you were too lenient with her. She needs to know who is in charge. However you want me to compensate you for her troubles, I will." There was so much venom in his tone that it caught even me off guard. This was a man who had spent five years married to Avery, and yet there wasn’t a shred of care or remorse in his voice. To him, she was nothing more than an object—a tool to be used and discarded at his convenience. I studied him for a moment, my eyes falling on the black band on his wedding finger. "I see you replace them like clothes," I noted, mockery in my tone. "Already onto your second marriage, and to her sister, no less. What’s so special about that family that you keep taking their daughters?" Chase’s chest puffed up with pride, as though he had accomplished something worth celebrating. "They’re just pawns in the bigger game," he said, his tone smug. "The kids are gullible."
AXEL’S POV:Chase’s hand hovered awkwardly in the space between us for a moment longer, his smile faltering. He didn’t retract it right away, as though hoping I’d reconsider, but I didn’t. Instead, I folded my arms across my chest and said, "I don’t do handshakes." The words came out like steel, cutting clean through the fake pleasantries he’d tried to establish. His face flushed slightly before he tucked his hand into his pocket, attempting to hide the embarrassment that even his demeanor couldn’t mask. Recovering quickly, he cleared his throat and gestured to the couple standing behind him. "Allow me to introduce you to my parents." His mother stepped forward first, her smile wide and artificial, as though it had been practiced in the mirror before this meeting. She gave a small, excited wave, punctuated by a giggle that grated on my nerves. "Hello, Mr. Blackwood!" she chirped. "It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you. Chase has told us so much about you!" Her overly eage
Axel’s POV:Breakfast at home was sacred. No matter how chaotic my world became, mornings were reserved for my angel. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d missed breakfast with her, and each of those instances had been unavoidable. Today was no different. Sea sat across from me, swinging her legs under the table, her soft giggles making the chaos of my life seem far away. I poured syrup over her pancakes, watching her eyes light up as she grinned up at me. "Is Avery still not back?" she asked, her small melodic to my earMy heart sank. Not this again. I forced a warm smile, trying to reassure her. "No, baby girl. But don't worry, everything will be okay."She looked up at me with big, innocent eyes. "Daddy, you can find her! Try looking for her!" Her faith in me was both comforting and crushing.I took a deep breath, struggling to maintain the facade. "Baby girl, remember the rules? No talking at the table, okay?" I gently reminded her, trying to divert her attention.S
AVERY’S POV:The moment the door slammed shut behind him, I exhaled the breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding. It was as if every ounce of air had been trapped in my lungs since the moment I was dragged into that cold, soulless room. My body trembled, my chest rising and falling in sharp, shallow gasps. And then, I broke. Tears spilled over, hot and relentless, streaking down my face as I crumbled. The strong exterior I had painstakingly constructed in front of Axel shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces. My hands shook, and my shoulders sagged as the weight of everything I had endured pressed down on me. Yet, through the sobs that racked my body, I felt a sliver of pride. I hadn’t let him see this. I fought to keep my head high in front of Axel because breaking down in front of him was a defeat I couldn’t afford. It was a vow I had made to myself the moment I became his prisoner: "Don’t let him see you break. Don’t let him see you weak." And even though I was crumblin