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chapter 109: The other Victor

Autor: Liana evadne
last update Última actualización: 2026-01-12 21:42:10

(POV - SCARLETT)

It didn’t take much effort to skip school that day. After the bloody mess in the hallway, the idea of sitting in a classroom made my skin crawl. The air outside was crisp and bright. It felt clean, unlike the thick, tense air of the school.

And with the early Halloween festivities beginning all over the city, people were everywhere. I simply melted into the crowds moving through the City Centre. I was just another face, anonymous. No one paid any attention to a girl in a worn j
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  • Broken Then Desired    Chapter 128: Scarlett's Friend

    (POV - VICTOR BLACKWOOD) I heard her voice in the background. It was faint, distant, like she was far away from the phone. But it was her. It was Scarlett. I couldn't make out the exact words she was screaming, but I knew her voice, knew the sound of her fear. My grip on the phone tightened until the plastic creaked. Whoever this caller was, they were telling the absolute truth. Scarlett was alive. Scarlett was somewhere, hurt, scared. And I was going to get her. I didn't wait another second. I turned and started for the door, my boots heavy on the scattered glass. I was already reaching for my keys. Then I felt a weak, desperate grab at my ankle. I looked down. Jaxon was on one knee, slumped against the door frame. His mouth and chin were smeared with fresh blood, my punches had done real damage. His split lip was still dripping. But his eyes, though swollen and pained, were sharp with the same cold calculation he'd always had. "Boss" he managed, his voice a thick, wet scrape.

  • Broken Then Desired    chapter 127: no no no

    (POV - SCARLETT) I’d been watching the news, alone in the big, quiet house. The press conference was live on every channel. My hands were clenched together so tight my knuckles were white. I saw Victor get arrested, the cameras crowding around him, and my heart cramped in my chest like a fist was squeezing it. Then I saw the crazy chaos, the other video that proved he wasn’t driving the truck, the men rushing in to break him out… and then he was gone from the screen. The news reporters were shouting, the camera was shaking. I didn’t know if he was safe or if he had been caught again. The not-knowing was a dull, constant ache inside me, worse than the bruises on my neck. That’s when I heard a noise downstairs. A heavy thump. Like a piece of furniture being knocked over. Or a body hitting the floor. My whole body went stone still. I muted the TV. The silence in the house felt thick and dangerous. “Jaxon?” I called out, my voice still rough and painful from the bruises on my thro

  • Broken Then Desired    chapter 126: I know who you are

    (POV - KELSEY) Having this bitch here, tied to that chair in the middle of the cold, empty warehouse, is nothing more than pure ecstasy for me. Seeing her like that, even though I’m hurting too, my nose is still a throbbing, taped-up mess, and my hand has a nasty cut from where she slammed it into the broken window when we grabbed her, is everything. It’s better than any party, any new clothes, any compliment from a boy. This is power. Real power. She’d fought, sure. A weak little hoe like her is nothing against me when my anger is fueled by pure, hot hatred. She got a few hits in, but my guys were with me. They held her down. Now she’s mine. One of the men, a big, silent guy who works for him, hands me a metal bucket. It’s full of ice-cold water, with actual chunks of ice floating in it. A mean smile spreads across my face. I don’t hesitate. I swing the bucket and empty the whole thing right onto her head. The water hits her with a shocking splash. She gasps, a raw, choki

  • Broken Then Desired    chapter 125: The private number

    (POV - VICTOR BLACKWOOD) On getting home, the place was as silent as a graveyard. Jaxon and I walked through the front door, which was still busted and hanging loose from the police raid. No one came to greet us. No sound of a TV. No footsteps. Nothing. Which was very, very odd. Even in trouble, this house had a pulse. Now, it felt dead. It felt wrong in my bones. We moved carefully through the downstairs, our own footsteps too loud in the heavy quiet. The living room was a mess from the cops, overturned chairs, papers scattered. The kitchen was empty, a single cup left in the sink. Not one other human in sight. My men should have been here. Leo, at the computers. A guard at the door. Someone should have been guarding her. A cold finger of fear traced my spine. I looked up toward the second floor, my eyes scanning the dark windows. That’s when I saw it. The window in Scarlett’s room, the one overlooking the big backyard, was broken. Not just cracked. The glass was completely gon

  • Broken Then Desired    chapter 124: make her another Scarlett

    (POV - VICTOR BLACKWOOD) As soon as the video started to play on the giant screen above Jack Cole’s head, a smile curled on my lips. It was a cold, hard smile, but it was real. I saw his face change from triumph to confusion, then to pure, stomach-sick fear. The room exploded into noise, just as we knew it would. In the chaos, I felt a familiar, strong hand clamp down on my shoulder. Jaxon. He didn’t say a word. He just steered me, moving fast and sure, through the furious crowd of reporters, away from the shouting and the flashing lights. Jack Cole was screaming into microphones, a man caught in his own trap, but he was already a ghost to me. We slipped through a side door, into a dark, quiet service hallway behind the stage. The roar of the press room became a muffled storm. Our eyes met for just a few seconds. His were serious, focused. Mine, I’m sure, were blazing with the fire of a narrow escape. He gave a single, sharp nod. Then, with a practiced move, he guided me not towar

  • Broken Then Desired    chapter 123: fabricated

    (POV - JACK COLE) The feeling was pure power. It tasted like expensive whiskey and sweet, sweet victory. It warmed my chest and made my head feel light. Victor Blackwood was in handcuffs. He was locked in a cold, concrete cell deep in the county jail, right where he belonged. The arrest had been messy, dramatic, perfect for the cameras. And the entire thing had been captured by the news helicopters I had tipped off, hovering over his big, gloomy house like angry birds. I made sure of it. The whole city needed to see him taken down. Now, I stood at a polished wooden podium in the City Hall press room. Bright lights from a dozen cameras made the room hot and bright, like a stage. The air buzzed with the low sound of reporters murmuring and the clicking of camera shutters. This was my stage. My finest moment. My moment to bury Victor Blackwood forever under a mountain of evidence and public shame. "Ladies and gentlemen of the press," I began, my voice calm and strong, amplified by th

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