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FOURTEEN: The Car Empty of the Devil
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2025-04-18 23:31:27
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Her Neglected Scars NINETY-SIX: Pawnshop
My bare feet slide against the cold floor as I throw the bedroom door shut behind me and slam the brass bolt home with a clack. I drop against the wood and slide down until I’m sitting on the floor with my knees pulled to my chest. The pregnancy test slips from my shaking fingers, bounces off the rug, and rolls under the edge of the dresser. I’ll kill her in no time. The words stay inside my skull until my ears ring. Every breath feels like swallowing broken glass. The hope that bloomed in my chest just hours ago turns to ash. The strawberries. The laughter with Leonid. The belief that we were building something real out of the wreckage. He didn’t want me. He wanted a cage. A hostage to dangle in front of the syndicate while he sharpened his knife behind my back. In the end, he wanted me gone. Hours bleed into the dark. I don’t move from the floor. I cry until my throat is raw and my ribs ache, until the digital clock on the nightstand blurs into glowing red numbers.
Her Neglected Scars NINETY-FIVE: Kill Her
“Well, Mrs. Morozov,” the doctor murmurs, his voice calm. “This is going to be quite the news for the Morozov household. Everyone in this estate has been waiting for the Master to produce an heir to the empire.”My breath catches. My hands fly up and clutch the edges of the exam table.“Doctor, please—you can’t tell him. Not yet. Let me . . . let me find the right words. Let me tell him myself.”Dr. Petrov blinks, raises an eyebrow behind his thick lenses, then gives a slow, understanding nod.“Right, of course. My lips are sealed.” He makes a zippering motion across his lips, turns, and pulls the door open to step into the hallway.A second later, the door clicks open again, and Konstantin strides back in.His shoulders are tense. His jaw is locked. His crimson-flecked eyes sweep over my face.He steps up to the side of the table and crosses his arms over his chest. It’s that guarded stance he always takes when he’s trying to hide how much he cares.“Well?” Konstantin demands, his vo
Her Neglected Scars NINETY-FOUR: Pregnant
Panic surges through my veins, hot, sharp, and paralyzing. A baby. In this house?Married to a man who literally told me a week ago that holding me in his bed was a pathetic lapse in judgment? Married to a Russian mafia lord whose entire life is built on blood, vengeance, and a target painted on my family’s back?If Konstantin finds out I’m carrying his child—if my father finds out—“Eva!” Leonid’s voice echoes down the hall. “Are you coming or what?”I take three deep, shuddering breaths, slapping my cheeks lightly to force some color back into my skin. I paste a bright, entirely fake smile onto my face, open the bathroom door, and step back out into the corridor.“Coming, marshal,” I call out, my voice miraculously steady.Two hours later, I find myself standing in front of the heavy oak doors of the master suite, clutching a small, discreet brown paper bag I smuggled in from the village pharmacy.My hands shake so violently I almost drop the bag onto the rug.I need to know. I ne
Her Neglected Scars NINETY-THREE: Late
My nose is pressed against the dark wool of Konstantin’s trousers, the sharp scent of cedarwood, leather, and his musk filling my lungs.Just inches above my head, the heavy oak door rattles, and Irina’s sharp, shrill voice pierces the quiet of the office like a siren.“I am telling you, Konstantin, she is slipping back into your good graces, and you are letting it happen!” Irina paces back and forth across the Persian rug, her high heels clicking furiously against the floorboards.“She was out at the stables today, acting like the sweet, innocent little victim. She humiliated me in front of the grooms and the staff! How can you even look at her after everything she and her family did to us?”Down in the shadows of the desk, my lips curve into a slow, dark smirk against his heavy sex.Konstantin doesn’t move a muscle. His large hand remains planted firmly on the back of my head, holding me anchored against his lap with bruising, absolute authority.“She laughed in my face, Konstantin,
Her Neglected Scars NINETY-TWO: Under The Desk
A hard, manicured hand clamps down roughly around my upper arm.The sharp grip twists my skin, yanking me backward off balance so fast I stumble over my own feet, slamming my shoulder hard against the wooden fence post of the equestrian paddock.“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Irina’s voice shrieks right beside my ear.She has stripped away every ounce of her sweet, syrupy veneer. Her pale blue eyes bulge with raw, unadulterated fury, her chest heaving beneath her white riding jacket. Across the paddock, Leonid’s pony trots past, the boy turning his head to look back at us, but Irina doesn’t care about him anymore. All her focus is locked onto me like a guided missile.“Doing?” I ask, blinking innocently, letting my lower lip tremble just enough to catch the pale sunlight. “I was just helping Leonid with his helmet, Irina. He looked uncomfortable.”“Don’t you dare play games with me,” Irina hisses, her voice dropping into a venomous whisper as her fingers dig deeper into my
Her Neglected Scars NINETY-ONE: Do Well, Marshal
Carlos’s dark eyes remain fixed on my face, watching the tail end of my smirk with an unreadable look.I drop the expression at once, clearing my throat and shifting my weight. My shoulders pull back into a rigid posture, my father’s military-style training kicking in whenever I’m caught looking less than composed.“What are you doing, Carlos?” I ask, my voice dry and guarded as I cross my arms over the silk robe.Carlos doesn’t blink. He adjusts his glasses with a slow thumb, his gaze sliding down my frame before meeting my eyes again.“Breakfast is ready in the main dining hall,” Carlos says flatly. There’s a strange weight underneath the words that I can’t quite read.“Is it?” I raise an eyebrow and give him a short, humorless smile. “How thoughtful of the kitchen staff. Do I need to wear a suit of armor to eat, or are standard utensils acceptable today?”Carlos gives a single shake of his head and turns on his heel. “Just eat your food, Evangeline.”He strides away down the galler
Her Neglected Scars FOUR: Tears, Tea, Trouble
Staring down danger over a tea party is a great reminder that life loves throwing curveballs when you’re least prepared. But on the bright side, I think I’m finally sure he’s six-foot five.I swallow the lump in my throat as those muddy, red eyes penetrated through my very being, sending electricit
Her Neglected Scars THREE: Poisoned Gazes
Whip burns and brotherly love: because one form of torture just isn’t enough. The room was heavy with unspoken tension as my brother gently applied the salve on the wounds on my back, his touch lingering a bit too long.I asked for the maids, but I guess they, too, were far too afraid to go agains
Her Neglected Scars TWO: To Punish the Brave One
When you dig your own grave, you better be ready to lie in it, but damn, this is one deep hole.Bloody pupils that look and feel like it’s seen murderous things penetrated right through the small slats of the closet. He doesn’t move, nor does he stray his eyes away from mine. Instead, his lips, ca
Her Neglected Scars ONE: Marrying To My Doom
I’m getting married to Konstantin Morozov, the merciless billionaire crowned as the bloodthirsty King in all of Russia, or in other words, my life is going to end today.A stark difference to the dark cell I thought it would be ending, but instead it’s here—in this beautiful church adorned with flo
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