All Chapters of His Pretty Little Liar - The Devil’s Snare - Book 1: Chapter 301 - Chapter 305

NikoI wake up feeling disoriented, my head pounding like a relentless drum, and my mouth parched as if sand had settled on my tongue. A deep, throbbing ache spreads from my shoulder through my chest and down my back, intensifying with every shallow breath I struggle to take. The gunshot wounds feel like a heavy weight, making it almost impossible to fill my lungs completely; I'm left gasping for air, frustration coiling in my gut.Instead of immediately opening my eyes, I linger in the warm cocoon of sleep, allowing the comforting thought of Bianca's presence to envelop me like a soft blanket. She should be near, close enough that I can almost feel her warmth, a fragile barrier against the harsh reality of our dim, wooden boatshed—a place that feels both claustrophobic and sacred, offering us refuge from the looming dangers outside.As I extend my arm, yearning to draw her close, I find nothing but the cool, empty bed sheets slipping through my fingers like wisps of mist—chilling aga

Bianca "Move," Franko pulled me from Benji's relative safe hold, forcing me to walk between them as Derek led the way through the overgrown greenery that had me tripping every few steps. I remember this from before, when we hiked inland.Thoughts began to swirl in my mind, echoing the jovial resonance of my father's voice during that journey. I can vividly recall coming to the door, nearly camouflaged, its surface melding seamlessly with the surrounding backdrop as if it were an intrinsic part of the scenery rather than a passageway to hell and back.I will the images to go away, not wanting to see that night, not wanting to relive it again so soon after the last time. But the further we walk, the more I see. The more I remember.The uneaten meal paved the way for me to be taken to the bedroom, a room equipped for a girl. Pretty dresses hung from a rail, and perfumes remained unopened on the side. The room was warm in pinks and golds yet felt oddly untouched.His hand's roaming body

Niko Mopelli rushes to Sven, his heart racing as he conducts the essential primary checks. His gaze zeroes in on an injection site on Sven's arm—stark evidence of something troubling. While Mopelli suspects that the brutal beating Sven endured might have left him feeling dazed and disoriented, he can't shake the unsettling feeling that it's more than just that. There's an eerie stillness about Sven, a profound non-responsiveness that hints at something deeper lurking beneath the surface of his veins. He was drugged, and he believes that was to cause him to either not remember the beating or to slow us down in going after Bianca. "You next," he orders, his tone leaving no room for dissent as he gestures for me to settle into the worn armchair nestled in the dim corner of the room. The fabric feels rough against my skin, a stark contrast to the throbbing pain beneath the bandages. With deliberate care, he pulls back the soft gauze that Sven had wrapped around my wound, exposing the