Angelica's POVDread seeped into every fiber of my being as his words hung in the air, like a looming storm ready to break. My knuckles turned white as my fists clenched the bedsheet beneath me, the fabric twisting and bunching under my grip."I didn't" I lied to protest, to save myself from the punishment he just mentioned."You have no reason not to find the route to escape and the informer has no reason to lie."A cynical chuckle rumbled in his throat, making the atmosphere even more suffocating.Suddenly I felt his fingertips touching my thigh, and he slowly lifted my frock up, which must have barely covered my buttocks because of the position. His actions were deliberate, unsettling me further.As he lifted my frock, exposing more of my body to his gaze, a wave of humiliation washed over me. I felt vulnerable, exposed, and powerless in front of him. I wanted to shield myself from his prying eyes, to preserve whatever little dignity I had left."I must say I am quite impressed by

Angelica's POV"Didn't you hear what I said?" He said out of frustration when I didn't move from my place "Come here," he repeated, his patience becoming thin.He poured another glass, downing it quickly before filling it up again.The alcohol was clearly affecting him, and his control was slipping away. I couldn't trust him like this. It seemed wise to wait until the morning to talk to my parents."Just let me be. I don't want to talk to my parents," I said, averting my gaze while still sitting on the floor."You still don't get it," he said, taking a slow sip. "It's not about what you want. It's about what I want. And right now, I want you on my lap." He said it as if it were something normal for him.Isn't he tired of all this?My eyes shut, and I exhaled deeply. I am exhausted physically and mentally, leaving me drained and unable to put up a fight."You see this?" His words reached my ear and opened my eyes."Your home." I suddenly became attentive, and almost instinctively, my ha

It's been three days since the night he came drunk and collapsed over me. The next morning, he was in haste and left somewhere. He hasn't returned since then. He dared me to try something against his wishes and see the consequences, but that didn't stop me from searching for ways to escape. I was so desperate that I even went to the terrace but came back after being sure that I would end up dead if I tried something foolish. I also tried searching for my phone, but it was nowhere to be found. His cupboards and closets are locked with special locks that need his fingerprint to open. I thought about asking Aunt Greta if I could use her phone to make a call, but I was worried that Damien might find out and cause trouble for her. I don't want to make things difficult for her because of my problems."Ahh" I gasped as my thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sharp sting as I accidentally cut my finger while chopping the salads for lunch. "What happened?" Aunt Greta came running to me.

Pacing back and forth in the room, I was internally praying to God to save me from his wrath today and whatever he brought for me.His return has brought a storm into my life, and I am sure it will consume me this time.I know he has returned home after 3 days, so he is going to spend some time with his sister, and I am using this time to prepare myself to face that devil who has already ruined my life and is now determined to make me beg for death.I know that I haven't done anything wrong. I just went to give food to his sister in the absence of Aunt Greta, and there wasn't anything wrong with indulging in conversation with her. It is my right to know the whole truth.Back when I was trying to find out what really happened to my brother, I couldn't find any proof. He was too smart, covering his tracks well. But now, that I'm here and know that he's the one who killed my brother, I should know everything. It is my right as a sister.Even though Daisy herself has confirmed that my brot

After giving me that desired pain and imprinting his words in my head, he left my hand, threw the ice cube away, and walked out of the kitchen, murmuring something to himself about which I am not sure what it was. I strained my ears, trying to catch his words, but all I could understand was that he seemed to be angry with himself, abusing himself for something, maybe for helping me.I was sure that if I got any late, he would punish me even more, so I decided to concentrate on the cooking.I chopped, stirred, and cooked, trying my best not to mess up. Damien came into the kitchen once to check on me, dressed neatly and looking serious, ready for his meeting. He was clearly giving a lot of importance to this 'guest' who was coming over. I didn't want to upset him by making any mistakes, so I continued working diligently.Finally, after about forty-five minutes, I had everything ready. The dishes were hot and smelled delicious. All it needed was to be served when the guest arrived. I was