Elizabeth’s POVThe sunlight leaked in through the curtains like an unwanted guest, warm and soft against my face—but it didn’t feel comforting. It felt cruel. Mocking.I opened my eyes slowly, my head pounding. My body ached, my wrists sore from the cuffs that had only come off hours ago. I was curled under the blanket, but I didn’t feel safe. I didn’t even feel like me anymore.And then I remembered.The night.His voice. His touch. His weight. His obsession.I sat up with a wince, pulling the sheet tighter around myself as if it could shield me from the memories—and from him.The room was quiet.Too quiet.I looked around slowly, half-expecting Liam to be hovering in the corner, watching me like he always did. But he wasn’t there.Just the tray on the nightstand. A glass of water. A folded note.“Good morning, my beautiful girl. I’m letting you rest. You looked too peaceful to disturb. I’ll be downstairs. Don’t try anything stupid. You know you can’t outrun me.” —Liam.I stared at
Liam’s POVShe lay beneath me, wrists cuffed to the cold iron of the headboard, chest rising and falling with frantic breaths. Her hair was a mess across the pillow, eyes red from crying, lips parted in disbelief.And she looked beautiful.Terrified.But beautiful.I leaned over her, pressing one hand gently against her cheek. She tried to jerk away, but the cuffs reminded her—she wasn’t going anywhere.“Now,” I whispered, dragging my thumb across her bottom lip, “you’re finally going to listen.”She closed her eyes tightly, as if that would make me disappear.I chuckled.“Oh no, darling… you don’t get to hide from me anymore. You’re mine now. All of you.”I trailed my hand down her neck slowly, feeling her pulse race beneath my fingertips. I could feel her hate… her fear… but beneath it all, there was something else. Something she didn’t even want to admit.“You can call me insane all you want. Say I’m obsessed. Possessive. Dangerous. And maybe I am.”My hand reached her waist, holdi
Liam’s POVI knew she was going to run.She’d been twitchy all day—glancing over her shoulder more than usual, clutching that little phone she thought I didn’t notice. I watched her closely, like I always do. I know her tells. The way her fingers shake when she’s nervous, the way her pupils shift when she lies. She forgot who she was dealing with.I let her think she was winning.She crept down the stairs like a child stealing from the cookie jar. Thought I was passed out drunk with that glass in my hand. I played along, head tilted back, eyelids heavy. Waiting. Listening.I heard the door click.I counted to five.Then I smiled.She actually did it. She left me.The thought alone nearly made me laugh. She thinks she can leave me after everything I did for her? After I ripped her out of that hellhole auction? After I saved her from being torn apart by those monsters?I walked to the garage, opened the trunk, and pulled out my quiet car. No headlights. No engine roar. She wouldn’t hear
Elizabeth’s POVI was thinking about the man who wanted to help me—Ezra.His voice kept echoing in my head from the night of the party. He’d pulled me aside when Liam wasn’t looking, concern written all over his face. “If you ever get a chance to run, text me. I’ll help you. I know what he is.” At the time, I’d been too afraid to believe him. But tonight… I had nothing left to lose.I slipped into the guest room and quietly reached for the small burner phone I’d hidden beneath the bed frame—the only thing I managed to snatch the day we left the mansion for Liam’s so-called “party.” The minute my fingers touched it, I pulled it out with shaky hands and texted Ezra the one message I had rehearsed in my mind a thousand times.Me: “It’s me. I’m ready to leave. Where do I meet you?”Seconds passed like hours before the screen lit up.Ezra: “49 Glenhill Street. Old warehouse. It’s safe. Come alone. Now.”I bolted to the door of the bedroom and peeked down the hallway. Liam was downstairs, l
Elizabeth’s POVThe boutique smelled like leather, fresh perfume, and polished money. The kind of place I never would’ve entered back when I was homeless—when my whole life fit into a duffel bag and I couldn’t afford a sandwich, let alone designer heels.But now? I was dressed like a queen. Except I was being dragged through this fantasy by the devil.Liam stood a few feet away, sipping champagne handed to him by one of the store assistants like he belonged here. His eyes didn’t stray far from me, even while he smiled at everyone else.I had to be careful.I reached into the gold clutch again, hands shaky as I slid the phone halfway out. I didn’t dare unlock it all the way in plain view. But just feeling it there—connected, real—gave me a thread of courage.I whispered silently to myself, Just one message. Just one chance.But I couldn’t try it yet. Not here. Not when every wall had mirrors, and Liam had eyes everywhere.“Do you like this one, darling?” he asked from behind, holding u
Elizabeth’s POVI took the bag from Liam’s hands slowly, my fingers brushing against the paper as if it might explode on contact. He stood over me, watching like a hawk, his smile twitching at the corners. That smile was always the same—too wide, too pleased, too wrong. Like he was living in some twisted fantasy where we were a real couple, and tonight was just a normal night out.I peeked into the bag.A black dress. Sleek, expensive-looking. Thin straps, low neckline, and a slit that cut dangerously high up the thigh. It looked like something you’d wear to a gala—or to seduce someone. Definitely not something I would pick.My throat tightened.Liam knelt in front of me, eyes glued to my expression. “Do you like it?” he asked, his voice almost boyish.I didn’t answer. I just stared at the dress like it might answer for me.“I thought it would hug your body just right,” he went on, his tone dreamy now. “Something elegant. Something that shows you belong to me.”There it was again. Tha