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last update Last Updated: 2026-02-25 14:11:31

My feet hit concrete first.

Then the pain in my ankle and cold air. I winced hard

Hands dragged me out of the van, and before I could even breathe, someone ripped the blindfold off my face. Light stabbed my eyes. I blinked fast, tears blurring everything into a smear of gray and shadow.

We were in a parking garage. Dim. Empty.

Like a place where people disappeared. A place where no one could hear me scream. So I didn't.

Two men stood behind me, one with pale blue eyes, tall and cruel,
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  • KILL FOR HER |18+   40. Part 2

    Mature Content Nico didn't say anything at first. He just looked at me for a second, jaw tight and eyes dark, then suddenly his arms were around me and my feet left the ground. I laughed softly, instinctively wrapping my arms around his neck as he carried me toward the bedroom like I weighed nothing. "Nico," I murmured. "You're not walking after that," he said calmly, like it was already decided. He laid me down on the bed gently, carefully, like I was something precious—but the look in his eyes said he was barely holding himself back. I propped myself up on my elbows, watching him stand there. Then I bit my lip. Slowly, deliberately, I reached for the hem of my shirt and tugged it up just enough for him to notice. Then I slipped it off. I wasn't wearing a bra. His brow lifted slightly. "Well," he said quietly, his gaze never leaving me, "someone's excited." I smiled sweetly. "Actually," I said, sitting up a little straighter, "I changed my mind." His body stilled inst

  • KILL FOR HER |18+   40

    Slight Warning I hadn't gone home. A week passed, and I was still here. My parents called once. Just once. Their voices were polite. Distant. They asked if I was okay. I said yes. I wasn't. I didn't tell them anything. The only person I really spoke to was Lizzy. She was still with our grandparents, which meant she didn't have to see how empty I felt. She didn't have to worry about me being alone at home. The week I spent with Nico wasn't what people would imagine. It wasn't passionate or reckless. It was quiet. Some days I didn't want to eat. Some days I didn't want to talk. Some days I just stared at the ceiling, exhausted in a way sleep didn't fix. And Nico stayed anyway. He watched movies with me, even when I didn't really follow the plot. He sat beside me when I cried, never rushing me, never asking questions I wasn't ready to answer. He held me when the weight in my chest felt unbearable, his arms steady, like he was anchoring me to something real. He even asked En

  • KILL FOR HER |18+   39

    The drive there was quieter than I expected. Enzo was in the backseat, legs stretched out, talking like he always did when he was nervous — which was constantly, apparently. "I swear I didn't fall asleep," he said for the third time. "I remember a wolf." I turned around in my seat. "There was no wolf." "There was," he insisted. "Big. Hairy. Angry." "It's vampire show," I said flatly. "I'm pretty sure it was a wolf and vampire in a love triangle." I sighed. "Enzo. That's Twilight." There was a pause. "...Okay," he admitted. "Maybe I wasn't paying full attention." "Yes because you totally fell asleep!" Nico groaned from the driver's seat. "You're both giving me a headache." Despite myself, I smiled. It helped. Just a little. Enzo chuckled, and teased him. "Relax, Nico." But the closer we got, the tighter my chest felt. The 'alley house' sat hidden between abandoned buildings — a massive, empty warehouse that looked like it hadn't been used in years. No si

  • KILL FOR HER |18+   38

    I had successfully convinced Enzo to watch The Vampire Diaries with me. This was not easy. I had explained the lore. The brothers. The drama. The emotional trauma. I was halfway through passionately explaining why Damon was misunderstood and deserved grace when I realized something was wrong. Very wrong. I looked over. Enzo was asleep. Freaking sleeping! Head tipped back. One arm hanging off the couch. Mouth slightly open like this was the most boring documentary he'd ever been forced to sit through. I stared at him in disbelief. "You did not just fall asleep," I whispered. "Not during this episode." I huffed, offended, and turned back to the screen, shoving another chip into my mouth. Fine. His loss. I gasped quietly at an almost-kiss scene, leaning forward, then the elevator dinged. I looked over. My heart jumped before my brain even caught up. The doors slid open, Nico stepped out. My chest did that stupid thing it always did when I saw him. He l

  • KILL FOR HER |18+   37

    My father didn't raise his voice. That was how I knew I was already in trouble. He stood behind his desk, hands braced against the polished wood, eyes sharp and calculating as he stared at me like I was a problem. "You got us into some fucked up shit, Nico." I clenched my jaw. Of course he found out. He always did. "Everything is handled," I said calmly. "There's no loose ends." He laughed once, humourless. "Handled? First, I tell you to marry. You agree. Then you give your bride to your brother. What kind of shit is that?" I leaned back in the chair, unfazed. "They like each other." His eyes narrowed. "You went against me." "I didn't," I replied evenly. "You said keep it close. Enzo is close. We're aligned." The room went still. My father's stare hardened, like he was deciding whether to push or let it go. Then he shifted topics. "What is this about Sean Doyle?" My body went rigid before I could stop it. "Sean is handled," I said. "How," he snapped,

  • KILL FOR HER |18+   36

    I woke up slowly, my body heavy and warm, wrapped in unfamiliar sheets that smelled like Nico. For one soft, disorienting second, I thought everything that happened last night had been a dream. Then I felt it. The dull, tender soreness between my thighs. The ache in my hips. The way my body still felt opened, claimed, cared for. Definitely not a dream. I rolled onto my side, reaching for him without thinking. The bed was empty. My body tightened. "Nico?" I whispered, my voice hoarse from sleep. Nothing. I pushed myself upright, the sheet slipping down my body, and winced slightly at the movement. My cheeks warmed at the memory of why I felt like this. Slowly, carefully, I stood. That was when I noticed his shirt folded neatly at the edge of the bed. Black. Soft, like he had just taken it off and placed it there for me. I slipped it on instinctively. It swallowed me, the hem brushing mid-thigh, the collar hanging loose against my collarbone. I inhaled without meaning to.

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