All Chapters of ENTRAPPED BY THE DEVIL: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

[XAVIER]I’m not surprised to see that Vladimir has once again outdone himself.The ballroom is a massive room with a high ceiling and many golden details. There are scriptures on the walls and ceiling, depicting the art for which Italy is known. The giant chandeliers hanging from the roof are probably the first things that catch the eye. You can’t help but be drawn to them the moment you walk in through those double doors.As my gaze lowers to where Olivia’s holding onto me, her arm linked with mine, it’s clear she’s just as captivated by the sight in front of us as I am. She’s soaking in every detail like it’s her first time here—or maybe her last. With this woman, I’m never quite sure about anything these days.When I met her at the dock a few hours ago, I should have prepared myself for what she was about to hit me with. She practically blinded me with how radiant she looked—so glamorous and sexy. That dress—Oh, Jesus—that dress looked so perfect on her body. I can’t think of anyo

[LAURA]Erica.How did he…? The question dies in my mouth, much like my faith in his goodness. The gun he’s pointing at my face is clear evidence that he isn’t the good man I thought he was.How did I read him wrong? What did I miss?“It’s not your fault,” he says, his face sombre, with no emotions passing across his forever-handsome features. I can tell just by the way he’s holding the gun that this isn’t his first time. “And neither you are the first person to underestimate me.”Of course, that’s true.What was I thinking? That just because his family kept him away from their dangerous business, he wouldn’t be any less dangerous? That just because he lived a simpler and lonelier life, he wouldn’t have a single bad bone in his body?I should have known he was capable of just as much damage as his brother, that he was just as menacing. They were siblings. It was impossible for them not to rub off on each other.But nothing compares to this feeling churning in the pit of my stomach, th

[LAURA]I watch Lizzy storming out of the cabin, the doors flapping behind her.It’s a damn miracle that only after she leaves me alone, a lone tear flees my eye and slowly makes its way down my cheek. My chin trembles, and a strangled sob slips from my throat, despite my efforts to suppress it with every fiber of my being.I hate myself so much right now.Lizzy did nothing to deserve what I put her through, and neither did Joey.God knows I love that boy more than anything else in this whole damned world.For six years. Six long fucking years I cared for him like my own child.I was never mother material, not with revenge consuming my mind and a heart filled with more hatred than any other emotion. I simply wasn’t cut out for it.At first, we thought it was only Lizzy we needed to take care of. No big deal. I could play the role of a good wife and a friend, no problem. But then one morning, Lizzy woke up and couldn’t stop vomiting. She had a raging fever, her body burning up like wil

[LIZZY]“You’re leaving?” I blurt out, eyes wide as saucers, my heart sinking deep into my stomach.The dark night stretches overhead, filled with scattered stars that twinkle like precious diamonds. The wind blows stronger, making my hair flutter all over my face.Zarina walks toward me, gracefully brushing the dark brown strands out of her face, her peaceful eyes briefly trailing over a sleeping Joey, who’s still tightly clutched to my chest.I had just walked out of the plane, only to find Zarina stepping out of the car. Theo, one of the caretakers of the Island, carries her bags, and Chiara is holding the baby, flashing me a cheerful smile as they pass one by one, heading up the airstairs.My heart sinks even more with her confirmation. “Why?” I ask, my eyes starting to well up.“Because it’s time,” she says and gently runs her long fingers over Joey’s back. “Mir is taking over the business, and although he told me to stay here as long as I want, I know he hates being away from hi

[VECTOR]I was ten when my sister Emma was born. She was this small, delicate thing that I was too scared to even touch. Her big doe eyes were like pools of laughter and innocence that spilled from her mouth every time she giggled and thrashed her little arms around, wanting attention, wanting someone to hold her, carry her around, keep her squeezed against their touch.She used to love it when our mother used to talk to her, holding a long and silly conversation while little Emma babbled away, God knows what. But that hardly mattered when I was too busy wiping sweat off my palms, wondering if I would finally get to hold her.Mom wanted me to not shy away, always telling me that I was supposed to protect her. Dad, however, seemed a little unsure. He sincerely believed that I needed to grow up a little more if I wanted that kind of responsibility. And I always believed he was right. That I needed to grow not only physically but mentally. That I needed to make myself capable, just like