Chapter 12: What is going on?

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• Married To The Son Of Sin    Chapter 24: The Compacts Edge.

  The first thing that registered was the cold. Not the room’s chill, but a deep, invasive freeze radiating from the needle taped to the back of my hand. Milky poison – Thorazine, Jess had called it – dripped relentlessly into my vein, turning my blood to sludge, my thoughts to tar. My eyelids were lead weights. Annulment. Eve’s word sliced through the fog, sharp and cruel. Why sever the marriage? To strip me bare before the kill? To erase me completely? The Pete debt was a chain, but this felt personal. Vicious.I forced my eyes open. The world swam – the bolted bed, the padded door, the blinding overhead light. Alone. Restraints bit into my wrists and ankles, leather gnawing at skin already raw. Panic tried to surge, a trapped bird fluttering against my ribs, but the Thorazine smothered it, leaving only a dull, distant thud. Think, Lucia. Past the poison.Jess’s voice, a fragile lifeline: "Hold the pills..."But they weren’t giving pills anymore. Just injections. Faster. Deeper. Harder.

• Married To The Son Of Sin    Chapter 23: Lost,not found.

  The first thing I noticed was the smell. Antiseptic and something underneath—copper and bleach, the sour tang of fear sweat soaked into the walls. The fluorescent lights buzzed like angry wasps, flickering just enough to make shadows dance along the padded walls. Click.The door locked behind me. I stood perfectly still in the center of the room, bare feet pressing into cold linoleum. They'd taken my clothes, my jewelry, even the elastic from my hair. The paper-thin hospital gown stuck to my skin where I'd sweat through it during intake. "Arms out, please." The nurse wore purple nitrile gloves that snapped against her wrists as she moved. She didn't meet my eyes as she wrapped the blood pressure cuff around my bicep. The Velcro shrieked in the silence. "Look at me." I lifted my chin. Her pupils were dilated—pharmaceutical calm. Another orderly lurked by the door, his meaty fingers flexing around a zip-tie restraint. The blood pressure cuff tightened until my fingers ti

• Married To The Son Of Sin    Chapter 22: Captive

  The elevator's chime was a death knell in the silent walls of the lancasters.My fingers froze on the laptop's edge, the metal suddenly ice-cold against my skin. Across the study, Adam stood silhouetted inches away from me, the moonlight painting silver streaks along the tense muscles of his bare torso. The fading restraint marks around his wrists looked like ghostly handprints in the pale glow. Eve's footsteps tapped a deliberate rhythm down the hallway—click, click, click—each one measured to make my pulse jump. "Lucia?" Her voice curled through the darkness like smoke. Adam's golden eyes locked onto mine, the pupils dilated from either the lingering medication or raw betrayal. "What did you do?" he whispered, the words rough as sandpaper. He was asking for the third time.Adam knew what I did.why was he asking?The bedroom door swung open before I could answer. Eve stood framed in the doorway, her ivory silk robe glowing like a specter. She took in the scene—Adam's defens

• Married To The Son Of Sin    Chapter 21: Sneaky

  The espresso machine's hiss filled the penthouse kitchen like a living thing. I watched the dark liquid stream into my cup, counting the seconds like heartbeats. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Adam hadn't moved from his seat at the island in forty-three minutes. I could feel his gaze burning into my back as I added precisely one sugar cube—never two—and stirred counterclockwise three times. The spoon clinked against porcelain, the sound too loud in the heavy silence. "Morning," I said, turning to face him. My voice was calm. Pleasant. The perfect imitation of a wife who hadn't watched her husband being restrained and injected with antipsychotics just hours earlier. His knuckles whitened around his coffee mug. A single drop of cold brew trembled on the marble countertop. "You don't remember," he said slowly, each word carefully measured. I took a sip, letting the bitterness coat my tongue before answering. "Remember what?" The muscle in his jaw twitched. That beautiful, dang

• Married To The Son Of Sin    Chapter 20: Hallucinations

  Adam stood motionless in the master bathroom, steam curling around his bare torso as scalding water pounded his shoulders. The heat couldn't burn away the image seared behind his eyelids—Lucia at Club Nine Hundred, her crimson dress clinging to sweat-slicked skin, tossing back tequila with men whose faces kept shifting in his memory. His fist connected with the marble shower wall. Pain flared through his knuckles, sharp and clean. Real. Because the woman at the club hadn't been real. And the real Lucia had been home all along. ---Adam toweled off with mechanical precision, avoiding the fogged mirror. The silver handle of the medicine cabinet gleamed like a dare. He yanked it open. Rows of amber prescription bottles stared back, their labels deliberately vague: - CLOZ-237 (Take 1 tablet nightly)- LITH-XR (Do not operate heavy machinery) - LOR-5 (As needed for agitation) Dr. Vogel's discreet handwriting. The Lancaster family's dirty little secret. Adam dry-swallow

• Married To The Son Of Sin    Chapter 19: Whiskey and warnings.

  The neon sign of Club Nine Hundred flickered erratically, its violet glow staining the rain-slicked pavement like a fresh bruise. Adam Lancaster leaned against the alley wall, letting the icy drizzle numb his face. He'd lost count of how many nights he'd spent staring at this same buzzing sign, seeking refuge in the only place where the Lancaster name meant less than the thickness of his wallet. With a final drag of his cigarette, he crushed it beneath his Oxfords and stepped into the chaos. ---Inside the VIP roomThe private lounge hovered above the dance floor like a predator's nest, its one-way glass offering a perfect view of the writhing masses below. Dante Moretti was already pouring four fingers of Macallan M into a tumbler when Adam entered, the bottle's £25,000 price tag glinting in the low light. "Christ," Dante muttered, taking in Adam's disheveled appearance—the undone collar, the shadowed eyes, the barely contained fury vibrating through his frame. "Eve's been busy