Chapter 6

Scarlett's POV

No. Not again. That can’t happen again.

I looked up at him—those cold, unforgiving eyes watching me like I was some kind of prize he had already won.

“I’m calling the police.”

“Really?” Liam chuckled.

“You can’t just… you can’t just do this to me! I’ll tell them you raped me.”

His expression suddenly darkened. “Go on, Scarlett,” he said sharply, “Call the police. Let's see if you make it out of here in one piece.”

I wasn’t going to back down. Not this time.

I pulled my arm away from his grip. “Screw you! My voice cracked, but I pushed through. “You can’t control me! You’re crazy, you sick rapist!”

Just then, one of his men stepped forward, his hand twitching towards his belt, and I realized with a sick jolt that he was ready to shut me up.

Fear gripped me, but before I could react, Liam raised his hand to stop him. “Don’t,” he ordered. “She's mine to deal with.”

The man hesitated, then retreated back into the darkness, and I let out a shaky breath.

Liam's lip curled in disgust as he stared me down. "You've got a lot of nerve calling me a rapist when you're out at a bar dressed like a goddamn whore."

The venom in his words sliced through me, but before I could react, his hands were on me, gripping my shoulders hard enough to bruise.

He pushed me back against the couch, his weight looming over me. "Tell me, Scarlett," he hissed dangerously. "Who were you planning on seducing tonight?”

My cheeks burned, partly from anger and partly from humiliation.

“How dare you?” I spat, pushing against his chest with all my strength, though he didn’t budge. “You have no right to talk to me like that! Who I dress for, who I talk to, who I…” I choked on my words, shaking with rage. “It’s none of your damn business because I don't know who the hell you are! I have nothing to do with you!”

The words had barely left my mouth when Liam’s whole body stiffened like a tightly coiled spring. He let out a harsh laugh, low and humourless, as his grip on my shoulder tightened.

“You don’t know me?” he repeated, his voice sharp and dripping with mockery. “That’s all you’ve been saying, over and over. ‘I don’t know you. I have nothing to do with you.’ Do you really think I’m stupid enough to believe that? After everything, you still think you can say that to my face?”

I flinched as his voice rose, louder and angrier with each word. “Do you have amnesia, Scarlett? Or do you think playing dumb is going to save you?”

He let go of my shoulders and held my chin roughly, forcing me to meet his piercing blue eyes.

The way he looked at me, like he owned me made my blood boil. “Let me make something clear. That little lie of yours? It’s getting on my nerves. And trust me, you don’t want to see what happens when you push me too far.”

My heart pounded as he leaned in. “Say it one more time,” he growled. “Go on. Say that you don’t know me. I dare you, Scarlett.”

I winced as his grip on my chin tightened. “Let me go,” I insisted, trying to sound strong, but my voice came out small and shaky. “Or I swear…”

“You swear what?” he interrupted, his tone mocking. “You’ll scream? You’ll fight? Go ahead, Scarlett. But don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

I couldn’t hold back anymore. My emotions boiled over, and I screamed, “You’re a rapist! A cold-blooded rapist! Do you hear me?” Without hesitation, I pushed his hand away with all my strength.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but before he could say anything, I pushed him hard against his chest.

This time, he actually stumbled back a few steps, his polished shoes sliding slightly on the floor.

“Rapist. You think you can just…” I started, but then, out of frustration, I kicked out wildly and my heel hit his shin.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to startle him, and I scrambled to my feet, backing away as quickly as I could.

Liam didn’t move for a moment, just stood there, his chest rising and falling as he stared at me. And then, slowly, he straightened, his expression dark and unreadable. “Fine,” he said quietly, his voice dangerously calm. “You want to keep calling me a rapist, huh? A cold-blooded rapist? Maybe I should start acting like one.”

The blood drained from my face. “What?” I whispered, barely able to get the word out.

Before I could process what was happening, he grabbed my arm and started dragging me towards the back of the bar.

I twisted and struggled, shouting for help, but the room was already empty—his men had cleared everyone out.

The sound of the music was muffled as he dragged me towards a private room.

“Stop!” I begged, my voice breaking as I dug my heels into the ground. “Please, just stop! Don’t do this! Please!”

He didn’t answer, didn’t even look at me as he pushed the door open and pulled me inside.

The room was small, with a leather couch and a table in the corner. The air felt suffocating, and my mind raced with panic.

I stumbled as he let go of me, and I backed away, my hands trembling. “Why are you doing this to me? What did I ever do to you?”

The question hung in the air, unanswered, as his hands gripped my waist and pulled me close.

“No! Let go of me!” My voice cracked, trembling with fear and anger. I pushed at his chest, desperate, but it was like trying to move stone—he didn’t even flinch.

His eyes raked over me, and in that moment, I felt vulnerable. With a few quick moves, he tore off my clothes, leaving me naked and exposed.

“Please, stop!" I begged as I twisted and kicked, my hands fumbling to cover what little I could.

But he forcefully pulled my hands away. A sharp pain spread through my body as his rough hands roamed over my body.

"This is exactly what a rapist does," he growled.

“Please! I'm sorry,” I said quickly, tears welled up in my eyes. “I'm sorry for calling you a rapist. Just… please, don't do this. Not again. Please, just let me go. I beg of you.”

But it was useless. My words were weightless, meaningless.

God I hated him. I hated him so much it hurt.

How could anyone be this cruel? This heartless?

Liam forcefully pushed me onto the couch, his hard dick pressing against my entrance.

I thrashed, cursed, and pushed with everything I had, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t stop.

If anything, he seemed to enjoy the fight, taking pleasure in my desperation like it was a challenge he refused to lose.

As he entered me in one hard thrust, the pain ripped through me, sharper than the first time—like I was being torn apart all over again.

It was suffocating, burning, like being disvirgined again, but worse. So much worse.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take it any more, the pain blurred into something else. My vision spun, black and white flashing, until all I could see were stars.

A few seconds later, he shuddered, groaning as he came hard. But he didn’t stop there—no, the bastard pulled out at the last second and painted my stomach with his cum like it was his final act of control.

I just lay there, naked and covered with his cum, staring at the ceiling as he calmly got dressed, like nothing had happened.

I felt empty—too tired to fight, too shattered to speak. What could I even say?

"Don't you dare challenge my authority again," he warned, throwing his coat over my exposed body.

With that, he stepped back towards the door.

His men were waiting outside, and as he opened it, he gave them a single order. “Take her back to the mansion.”

I screamed and struggled as they grabbed me.

Liam turned back to me one last time. “This isn’t over, Scarlett. Not until you give me my child.”