MasukThe master bedroom felt like a tomb instead of a wedding chamber. I watched the tattoos on Kanan’s back twist with every movement like living shadows as he took off his shirt. And despite my situation, I felt my body respond.
I hovered at the doorway in the ridiculous white dress my mother forced on me, the lace suddenly suffocating. My heart hammered so loudly it drowned my thoughts.
It was my first time, and the man waiting for me wasn’t a husband. He was the executioner who held I and my family’s lives in his hands.
Fuck my dad for putting me in this situation.
He turned to me, his eyes were unreadable but burning with something I didn’t recognize. “I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”
What level of manipulation was this? So I would refuse and could claim all the assets? I wasn’t that foolish.
“I… I have to.” I replied him, my voice shaky but firm. “It’s the contract.”
His jaw flexed with something that looked close to resolve. “Then let’s get it over with, wife.”
He turned me around and unzipped my dress, then nudged me to the bed. I laid there in my lace panties, trembling like a leaf.
Then his mouth was on my throat. His lips trailed over my pulse, biting lightly just enough to make my breath stutter, and heat shot down my spine, humiliating and uncontrollable at the same time.
He went lower, and though his hands never touched me, his mouth did everything, leaving my brain in a fog of pleasure.
He reached between my thighs and brushed the lace aside, then his tongue was on me.. in me … all over.
I cried out, my hips buckled, my hands clutching his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure tore through me. He didn’t slow down until my first climax hit. Raw, humiliating, and overpowering.
Before I could get myself, he covered me with his body and positioned himself between my still trembling thighs.
My breath caught in panic when I looked down and saw his cock. He was thick. There was no way I could take that into me.
“Elena,” He said in a soft voice, pulling my attention back to his face. “Relax.”
Then he pushed in slowly.
The sharp, tearing pain ripped a cry from my throat.
He froze immediately, hovering above me, chest heaving. “Look at me.”
I forced my eyes open, looking at the desire in his dark eyes. His biceps shook faintly with the effort he was using to stay still in me and not just thrust in.
After a couple of minutes, the pain finally dulled into overwhelming fullness , and I nodded.
He thrust in and then began to move in slow and deep rhythm, making the bed groan. Each filled me, my body stretching around him helplessly.
My mind screamed this was a debt, but my body didn’t care.
The moment pleasure overtook fear, he noticed.
He let out a low growl vibrated from his chest, gripped my hips, and started fucking me harder and deeper, until I was crying out his name as my second climax slammed into me.
I clung to him as he plunged deeper, buried his face in my neck, and spilled inside me with a guttural groan.
That was beyond any expectations I’d had about sex. For a fleeting second, I thought: Maybe this isn’t such a bad situation.
I reached for him, craving warmth, but he pulled away instantly.
“Kanan?” I called out, my voice small, stupidly hopeful even when he stood up from the bed and turned his back to me. “Where are you going?”
“To my room. The obligation is fulfilled for tonight.” He said, not bothering to look back as he zipped his trousers back up and picked up his shirt.
He reached into his pocket and brought out a gold credit card, throwing it onto the bed where it landed next to my hip. “For your expenses.”
The devastation was immediate. He hadn't just taken me; he had paid for me. I was nothing more than a womb and property.
He paused at the door, still not looking at me. “Never lock that door. I will drop in time to time for you to fulfill your duty. And when you’re on your period, inform me ahead of time so I won't waste my time coming here.”
Then he was gone.
The next ten months were colder than winter.
Our marriage was measured in Kanan's absence and the silence of his massive house. Sometimes he wouldn't come to my room for weeks. Other times, I’d wake to his weight on the bed, and he’d take me without a word, leaving before the sun was up.
He treated me like an ornament… protected, guarded, but untouched unless he needed me. He didn’t introduce me to his gang, never helped me mingle or anything. I was a stranger in my marital home. Everyone knew and gave me cold respect from a distance, but I knew no one or anything about him.
Then he started hanging out with other women publicly. I snapped one day when a blonde was brought in, and she draped herself over him right in front of me. She whispered something and giggled.
“You know what, I’m done!” I yelled, pulling away from the table. My chair falling behind me. “Just take the assets and get over it!”
The entire room froze. The blonde recoiled while his lieutenants, who we usually ate with, stared at their plates.
Kanan finally looked up, eyes colder than steel. “Sit your ass back down,” he warned, then went back to eating.
But I was done with the coldness and the disrespect. I ignored him and stormed out, back to my room to pack my things.
Why was I doing this for a family that always treated me like they could barely tolerate me anyway?
Why had he chosen me just to treat me like this? He could have picked my elder sister, who was willing.
As I passed his study, a morbid curiosity pulled me in. I branched and started searching without knowing what I was looking for.
I froze when my hand accidentally clicked a button under his desk, and a drawer opened.
Inside was not money or documents. But pictures.
Dozens of surveillance shots of me that looked like they dated back years. Me reading by the pool in my father’s house, me going for my college exams alone.
Angles only a hidden camera could capture. All dated, sorted, and organized.
He had been stalking me long before the wedding.
My hands shook as I crushed one.
“Looking for something?”
I spun to see Kanan at the doorway, looking at me with weird, dead eyes. He looked off, but that wasn't my business at that moment.
I flung the photos at him. “You’ve been watching me? What kind of psycho are you?!”
He picked up a photo, his face twisted into a dark smirk. “I like to study my future… properties.”
I launched myself at him and slapped him hard.
His head barely moved, but his eyes went black with rage like I’ve never seen before.
He grabbed my wrist, twisted it until pain shot up my arm, and slammed me against the desk.
“You think you can hit me and get away with it?” he growled. “You think you have the right?”
“I hate you!” I screamed.
His hands suddenly ripped my dress, he pinned me to the desk, then slammed his mouth onto mine.
I let out a muffled yelp, trying to fight him off when he yanked my panties aside, but he was too strong.
Then he shoved inside me with a single, vicious thrust that forced a cry from my chest.
Pain tore through me as he took me hard, using my body against the desk like he could fuck obedience into me.
When he finished, he pulled away, chest heaving, his face unrecognizable as he stared down at me with cruel satisfaction. “That was fun.” He drawled, kissing my cheek before pulling up his trousers. “You’re going nowhere. Try it, and I will drag you back here and slaughter everyone you love while you watch.”
I cried till I couldn’t anymore, then dragged myself back to my room.
After that day, he went back to his usual cold self, acting as if the violence of that day had never happened. That disregard broke my soul more than the act itself.
Three weeks later, the morning sickness began, and I took a pregnancy test.
I stared at the two pink lines, my heart in my stomach.
My hands shook so violently I nearly dropped it. “No,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face. “No, this can’t be happening.”
The images suddenly blurred , and the memory shattered into fragments. Then I was back in the cold, dark void, the pain of the bullet throbbing in my chest.
He had taken everything. He used me for a year, then killed me and his child, all for assets.
Anger and hatred roared in me.
I wouldn’t die. I had to avenge my stolen life and the son he murdered.
Suddenly, it felt like a vacuum was sucking me… pulling me through the darkness.
I focused on the single image of the Harbingers' insignia and his cold, cruel face staring down at me. "Please just give me the chance to destroy him."
“Beep... beep... beep.”What was that noise? It was an insistent, high-pitched whine. I needed to make it stop.My head throbbed, and my eyelids felt impossibly heavy, like held down by stone or by the sheer finality of death.Wait, how was I still conscious? The beeping got louder, or maybe I was just more aware of it, and a weird smell prickled my sinuses…. an unpleasant chemical smell. It was the smell of a hospital, the scent of antiseptic erasing the stench of blood and sickness.I forced my eyes open, and they strained against the blinding, sterile white of the room. I tried to move, but my limbs felt sluggish, like they were submerged in thick honey.I looked around to see that I was in a hospital, and a large, unfamiliar head was resting on the bed beside my leg, and from the rhythmic rise and fall of the man's back, he was asleep.Where was I? Then the memories slammed into me: the massacre, my father’s gambling debts, the sight of Maria dying to protect me, and Kanan’s c
The master bedroom felt like a tomb instead of a wedding chamber. I watched the tattoos on Kanan’s back twist with every movement like living shadows as he took off his shirt. And despite my situation, I felt my body respond. I hovered at the doorway in the ridiculous white dress my mother forced on me, the lace suddenly suffocating. My heart hammered so loudly it drowned my thoughts.It was my first time, and the man waiting for me wasn’t a husband. He was the executioner who held I and my family’s lives in his hands. Fuck my dad for putting me in this situation.He turned to me, his eyes were unreadable but burning with something I didn’t recognize. “I won’t touch you unless you want me to.” What level of manipulation was this? So I would refuse and could claim all the assets? I wasn’t that foolish.“I… I have to.” I replied him, my voice shaky but firm. “It’s the contract.”His jaw flexed with something that looked close to resolve. “Then let’s get it over with, wife.”He turne
"You’re marrying him, whether you like it or not!”My father snapped at me, his voice slurred, and his breath stinking of liquor.“What do you mean I’m marrying him?” I whispered brokenly, staring at my father like he had finally lost what was left of his sanity.He sneered, slamming his glass onto the table hard enough to spill whiskey across the paperwork in front of him. “You heard me, Elena. Kanan Maddox said the only way for him to keep us under his protection is if you marry him. He is offering the only deal that keeps us alive.” I stood in the parlor, clutching the envelope containing my ticket out of this miserable life of crime I was born into. It was the acceptance letter from my choice university confirming my full scholarship, but it felt worthless now, just paper burning in my hand.I came in two hours ago to the news that my father had accidentally and carelessly killed someone in a fit of drunken rage after he lost at a poker game. He hadn’t known that the person he’d
"Jeez, Elena… are you getting fat? No wonder Kanan can barely look at you.”My sister’s voice sliced through the front hall before I even stepped over the threshold. She was leaning against the marble railing, her eyes dragged over my body like I was trash that was being dragged through her perfect world.“Honestly, you should take care of yourself better, Lena. You know the man you married is hot cake. It’s only a matter of time before he replaces you with a trophy that actually makes an effort.”I pause with one foot inside my childhood home and let her words slide over me like water on a duck’s back. My older sister has always been like this. She was the spoiled, pretty, and sociable one that everyone liked, but that never seemed to be enough for her, because all my life was filled with trying to belittle me.“Hello to you too, Bianca,” I murmured, clenching my fist to keep my anger under control.My mother appeared at the top of the grand staircase, barely concealing the irritatio







