บททั้งหมดของ Bound by Vows, Torn by Love: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

"Emma, why don’t you look a bit more… content? You're the picture of every man's envy tonight." Damon's voice, though silken, cut through the bustling masquerade with a warning undercurrent.Emma’s lips curled into a practiced smile, a mask as exquisite as the silver one covering her face. She glanced around the opulent ballroom, chandeliers dripping crystal light onto a sea of masked faces. Every detail was meticulously chosen, every angle calculated to intimidate and dazzle. Just like Damon himself.Her heart beat in time with the distant, thrilling waltz, yet beneath her calm exterior, it was more like a drum of captivity, echoing the weight of her gilded cage. Damon’s hand rested possessively on her waist, a silent reminder that every breath she took was a gift he allowed her to have."Perhaps I’ve seen enough of high society for one evening," Emma murmured, her voice barely audible above the music. "A quiet night would suit me more."Damon’s grip tightened, his dark gaze flashing

The air was thick with tension as Emma stood near the grand window, the distant lights of the city below reflecting the turmoil swirling inside her. The soft hum of conversations around her faded into nothingness. Her thoughts were only with him. Jake."Emma, wait." Jake’s voice sliced through the noise, pulling her back to reality. His presence behind her was like a sudden storm, wild and unstoppable.She turned, startled, her heart already racing. There he was. The man who had been a constant, quiet presence in her life. His gaze locked with hers, intense, full of unsaid words."Are you okay?" Jake asked, his tone low, sincere. His eyes searched hers for something—anything—that might explain the pain she couldn't hide.She took a shaky breath, looking away, but the warmth in his voice made her pulse quicken. She didn’t know how to answer. Could she tell him the truth? That she felt suffocated? Trapped?"I see it, Emma," Jake murmured, stepping closer. "You're not happy. Not really."

"You think you can just walk away, Emma? You belong to me, remember?"Damon’s voice cut through her like a knife, cruel and sharp. His words, dripping with malice, echoed in her head long after he said them. He was too close now, too suffocating, and all Emma could feel was the tight grip of his power around her throat, choking the life out of her.Her heart raced in her chest as his cold, steady gaze burned through her. The moment his hand wrapped around her wrist, she felt it—the unrelenting force that demanded her submission. The threat in his words was real, unmistakable, like the cold steel of a trap closing in."If you run, I'll make sure you regret it," Damon’s voice was low, menacing, as if it was an afterthought—something he'd say just for fun.Emma’s breath hitched. The words weren’t just a threat, they were a promise. But her eyes flickered, a flash of defiance sparking deep inside."I’m not afraid of you," Emma whispered, trying to summon some shred of strength in her voice

"Emma, I’ve told you before. Stay. Away. From. Trouble."Damon’s voice echoed in her ears as she slammed the library door shut behind her, her breathing uneven, her fingers trembling.Trouble. That’s what he called every attempt of hers to remember who she was, who she might still be. Tonight was no different.The journal lay in her lap now, its worn leather cover rough under her fingertips. It felt like holding her own heart, fragile yet alive.She flipped the pages slowly, the faded ink revealing parts of herself she’d almost forgotten."Jake..." she whispered, her voice breaking.The entry stared back at her, the words she had written years ago pulling her into the memory like a tide too strong to resist.It had been a summer evening. Jake had surprised her with a picnic in the meadow by the old oak tree. Fireflies danced in the warm air, and his laughter filled the silence between her cautious words."Promise me one thing," she had said, leaning against him. "Anything, Emma." "T

The ballroom was nearly silent now, save for the faint rustling of a distant servant's footstep and the occasional clink of glass against metal. Emma sat alone, the weight of the evening pressing against her chest like an invisible hand. She hadn’t touched her champagne, its golden hue mocking her with its emptiness. The room, once alive with laughter and music, was now bathed in the oppressive glow of chandeliers that seemed to mock her every thought.Her fingers gripped the edge of the chair, her knuckles pale, as she stared toward the far side of the ballroom. Damon was still among the remaining guests, his presence suffocating the air. He moved with the grace of a man who owned every room he entered, his dark eyes sharp as they scanned the crowd. Every inch of him radiated dominance, his charm effortlessly disarming those around him. Emma's gaze narrowed as his hand brushed Sophia’s arm. A flicker of something cold passed through her chest."Don’t let him see you," she reminded he