Crimson and Chains

Author's Pov:

The room reeked of danger draped in luxury. With its deep crimson walls, golden trims, and ominous shadows cast by the barely-there morning light, it felt more like a throne room of a king drenched in blood than a bedroom. The velvet drapes fluttered as the wind tried to push through, the sunlight slicing through just enough to illuminate the fragile figure curled beneath silk sheets.

Kathleen looked like a porcelain doll abandoned on royal bedding — perfect yet painfully out of place. Her hair sprawled like ink across the golden pillows, and her pale skin was littered with deep marks — stark purple bruises that danced along her thighs, the base of her neck, and over her collarbone like a twisted canvas. Her lips were parted slightly, breaths shallow and unsteady.

The sunlight grew bolder, slashing across her face, disturbing her forced slumber. When she attempted to turn around her eyebrows furrowed as she groaned in pain.

Frowning at the discomfort she tried to open her eyes which seemed very difficult at that moment.

All she wanted was to change her position, so that she could avoid waking up, but who she was kidding, it felt as if the universe was against that idea.

A soft groan escaped her lips. Her brows pinched in discomfort as she instinctively tried to shift. A sharp hiss followed, pain jolting between her legs like a harsh reminder of the night before. Her arm trembled as she reached to shield herself from the blinding light, and as her eyes fluttered open, the reality crashed down on her.

The ceiling above was familiar, the intricate design mocking her misery. Her limbs felt heavy, as if chains invisible to the naked eye bound her to the mattress. She blinked once. Twice. Her heart beat faster.

She was alone.

For a moment, she dared to breathe.

Until the click of a door shattered the illusion.

She's not alone!

How stupid of her to think that she's alone when he never gave her the chance to stay alone well except in college. She tried to sit first as she clutched the duvet closer to her chest only then her mind registered the fact she was naked

Her heart plummeted to her stomach. The slow thud of heavy boots approached like a predator closing in on its prey. And then she saw him—leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his toned naked chest, eyes lazily raking over her broken form.

Lewis.

She immediately gripped the duvet tighter around her naked body, her body flinching under his piercing hazel gaze. He didn’t move. He didn’t need to. His presence alone sucked the air out of the room.

He was always watching. Always near. Like a shadow stitched to her every breath.

Her gaze avoided his. Her jaw clenched as she tried to gather herself, using the headboard to sit up properly. Her legs trembled from the effort, and she nearly cried out from the ache that flared through her body. His smirk deepened.

“You’re shivering, doll,” he said casually, voice thick with amusement. “Almost as if I wrecked you beyond repair.”

What did he do to her? It was never this painful.

"Doll, don't tell me I fucked you good enough that it made you forgot what I did or what we did?" His voice held amusement as if he enjoyed teasing her situation but then her eyes widened when she realised he replied to her thoughts.

Her eyes furrowed in confusion did she voice out that loud?

"Yes, doll you did" his voice neared as he stood next to her making her stiff. When did he come closer. Her breathing quickened when his rough veiny hands caressed her cheek.

"Look at me, doll" he said still caressing her cheek with tenderness as if his touch will hurt her skin.

She flinched when she felt him hovering above her still standing while his right thigh landed on the bed making her scoot over in sheer fear.

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to. Her silence was his favorite response — fearful and submissive.

“I asked you something, doll.” His voice was suddenly closer. She hadn’t even noticed he’d moved, but now he was beside the bed, one hand reaching to caress her cheek.

She flinched.

The corner of his lips curled.

“Still acting like a scared little mouse after all this time. I thought you liked it when I was inside you, hmm?” His fingers twirled a strand of her hair with mock gentleness before his expression darkened. “Or did you forget how you begged me last night?”

Her stomach twisted. Her hands balled into fists beneath the sheet. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She couldn’t show weakness. Not now.

“I said look at me.” His voice dropped, venom laced beneath each syllable.

Her head refused to move.

Wrong move.

Pain exploded from her scalp as he grabbed her hair and yanked her face toward his. Her jaw was crushed in his other hand, her lips distorted under his bruising grip. Her gasp of pain was muffled, her hands instinctively trying to push him away.

His face was inches from hers. For a moment his eyes darted towards that tempting site of her lips and her- closing his eyes to shut those desires- damn her for not listening to his demands.

“Do you want me to remind you what happens when you disobey?” he growled, and breathed hot against her skin. “You think last night was bad, doll? Then hear me I haven’t even begun. So don't fucking trigger me. I won't be this gentle next again. Got it?”

Her stubbornness will be her destruction.

Why did she not listen to him when she knew what he would do to her?

Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she nodded hastily. A choked whisper left her lips. “Ye-yes…”

He released her suddenly, her head snapping back against the headboard. The sting of it buzzed through her skull. She blinked through the fog and watched as Lewis ran a hand through his tousled hair.

“That’s better,” he muttered before sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to her. “I prepared a bath for you. You have one hour. Come downstairs afterward. Breakfast is waiting.”

As she stared at him, dumbfounded, he stood up and reached for her without warning. A scream tore from her throat as he lifted her bridal-style from the bed. Her bare legs instinctively wrapped around his waist to keep balance, but she avoided skin contact with his bare chest, instead gripping the gold chain around his neck.

He noticed. Of course, he did.

If only she knew these innocent things turned him on.

What is he gonna do with her?

“That’s new,” he chuckled. “Touching me only when you have no choice? You know last night you were clawing at my chest like you wanted to mark me for life.” He tilted his head, lowering his voice as he neared the bathroom door. “You want to see the scratches, baby?”

She gaped in shock, cheeks flushed in mortification. What the hell is he talking about?

He's sprouting nonsense as if she pounced on him. When did that even happen?

How dare he? Is he bipolar? One moment he's behaving like a beast and the next he's being all lovey-dovey.

He placed her gently into the warm tub, the water hissing against her raw skin. She flinched again, a soft moan of pain escaping as she settled into the water. Crunching down his fingers lingered on her wrist for a second longer before he stepped back.

After checking the temperature of the water and accessing her he moved out to give her privacy only to stop, slightly turning he stared at her only for her to look away.

“You’re adorable when you’re trembling beneath me,” he whispered, then smirked. “Try not to cry too much while I’m gone, yeah?”

And with that, he left the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

Kathleen stared at the water. It was tinted faintly pink where her skin had met the surface. The pain still throbbed, but the warmth was slowly dulling it. She sunk lower, letting the water reach her chin. Her head tilted back, resting on the porcelain edge, and she finally allowed her eyes to close.

But peace never came.

Instead, her mind replayed every moment from the day she first saw him. His smiles. His charm. The way she was pulled toward him like gravity. The flirting. The stolen glances. The thrill of being noticed.

The regret.

Her heart clenched.

She remembered those initiating conversations. Following him between classes. Laughing at his sarcastic comments. She thought she had control. Thought she could play with fire and not get burned.

How wrong she was.

Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, disappearing into the steaming water.

Why did she chase him?

Why didn’t she see the monster behind the smile?

Why the hell did she have a crush on him?

If only she didn't follow him all those days.

If only she didn't initiate those stupid talks.

If she knew he was this twisted and obsessed fudging person she wouldn't even cross paths with him.

And now more importantly…

What will she have to survive to escape him?

*****************************************

✨ I hope you guys enjoy reading it.

✨ Please vote and share my story guys

Until next time,

Jenikim7❤️