CHAPTER 5:He Is a Monster

ISABELLA

He didn’t just take my freedom.

He stripped it from me layer by layer until breathing felt like a borrowed act. Until I wasn’t sure if my name was even mine anymore.

He took everything.

My voice.

My dignity.

My brother.

My home.

And now he’s after the last thing I have left.

My soul.

I sat curled in the farthest corner of the cell, cheek pressed to my shoulder, knees locked to my chest. The cold had seeped into me. I didn’t feel it anymore not because it stopped, but because I did.

Numb was safer.

I didn’t flinch. Didn’t cry.

Just stared at the blinking red light above me.

The camera.

His eyes.

Always watching.

I tried screaming once.

They came in with shock batons.

I learned.

Now I whispered instead, broken and bitter, words barely shaped by breath:

“I’ll call you Master…”

The taste of it made me gag.

But if saying that word meant surviving

Then I’d lie to his face a thousand times.

Even if it killed what was left of me.

---

Clank.

A metallic groan echoed through the hall.

Footsteps.

Slow. Heavy. Sure.

The door opened, and light stabbed into the dark like a blade. I threw my arm over my eyes, already wincing.

Then Richard.

Not the boy who once bought me bubble tea. Not the friend who danced with me barefoot in the rain.

This version of him looked carved from concrete.

Jaw clenched.

Eyes flat.

Heart gone.

“Boss said bring you,” he said.

Dead voice. Like someone turned off the soul behind it.

I stood slowly. Every joint screamed. My muscles felt like paper.

He didn’t help me.

We walked.

In silence.

Like strangers.

The halls were sterile. Every wall the same shade of dead gray. I tried to speak, but the air between us was colder than the cell.

“Where are you taking me?”

No answer.

My fingers brushed his sleeve searching for a piece of the old Richard.

He yanked away like I burned.

“Just walk. And be quiet.”

I stopped trying.

---------

We stopped at a black double door. It stood like judgment wide, waiting.

He went in first.

I stayed frozen, hand flat against the cold wall.

I wasn’t sure I had the strength to go through.

Then the door opened again.

He nodded.

So I walked into hell.

---------

The room was dim. Silent.

Except for the sound of someone crying.

A man knelt on the floor, hands trembling, voice cracking.

“Please… Boss… just one more chance…”

He sobbed like he’d already seen the end.

Across from him sat Damian.

Polished. Perfect. Predatory.

He was polishing a gun like it was art, not a weapon. Every motion slow. Calm. Controlled.

He didn’t even look up.

Not at first.

Then he saw me.

And smiled.

Slow.

Dangerous.

Devastating.

“There she is,” he murmured. “Come here, baby girl.”

I didn’t want to move.

But I did.

Because I didn’t know how not to.

My feet obeyed what my heart couldn’t.

He held out a hand. I hesitated.

Only for a second.

Then I gave it to him.

He pulled me into his lap with one brutal tug my chest slamming against his, my breath catching.

His arm coiled around my waist like a lock.

He smelled like sin and silk and blood money.

And my traitorous body reacted.

Shame curled in my stomach like acid.

His mouth brushed my ear.

“There are rules, Isa,” he whispered. “And when people break them…”

He nodded toward the man sobbing on the floor.

“They pay.”

Then

He handed me the gun.

It was cold. Too real.

I froze.

“No…”

He chuckled darkly. “It’s thrilling, isn’t it?”

My hands shook.

“I can’t,” I whispered.

“I wasn’t asking.”

His fingers gripped my hair. Yanked hard.

I cried out, the pain flashing white behind my eyes.

His voice turned to iron.

“No one disobeys me.”

Then he wrapped his hand around mine, steadying it. Lifting the gun. Pointing it.

At the man.

“Pull the trigger.”

The man begged, voice wet with fear.

My hands trembled.

But his didn’t.

Bang.

The shot tore through the room.

The man fell.

So did my breath.

I screamed raw and guttural tears streaming, hands covered in what felt like sin.

I couldn’t stop shaking.

Couldn’t stop feeling.

And that’s what he wanted.

He turned my face to his, wiped blood from my cheek like it was a kiss.

And for a second…

There was something in his eyes.

Not regret.

Not guilt.

But fascination.

Like he was watching a painting come to life.

Then it vanished.

He smiled.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I couldn’t answer.

I couldn’t breathe.

He stood, lifting me with him.

Still holding me.

Still owning me.

“This is who I am, Isa.”

His voice slid into my bones.

“And now… you are part of it.”

He leaned in close his lips a breath away from my ear.

“If you ever run again…”

His hand cupped my jaw.

“I’ll find you.”

His tone dropped to a whisper.

“But next time, I won’t drag you back…”

His thumb brushed my lip.

“…I’ll make you beg to stay.”

He stepped back.

And left me standing in a pool of blood, my hands still trembling.

The monster wasn’t hiding anymore.

And maybe the scariest part wasn’t that he killed.

It was that part of me understood him.

And that part?

Was growing.

AUTHOR’S NOTE

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