บททั้งหมดของ Damien's Willing Captive : บทที่ 111 - บทที่ 120

Isabella's POV Her eyes cut to me like daggers, warning me not to speak. Not to expose her. “Malia?” I echoed with a grin that felt carved out of spite. “Is that what you’re going by now?” Her glare promised murder, but that wasn't what caused me to hold my breath. It was the look Damien gave me, with his brows knit tight. “What did you just say?” His voice was sharp, slicing into me. Shit. How do I say I know her without admitting I’ve got my memories back? Think. Think. Oops, no excuse came to me, so I took the easy way out. I swayed suddenly, clutching my head, pretending like the room spun. My knees buckled, and before I hit the floor, Damien lunged forward, arms wrapping around me, catching me like I was some fragile doll. Alicia…Malia…whatever the hell she called herself…looked like she wanted to set me on fire with her eyes. Her eyes shot daggers. Pure daggers. If looks could kill, I’d already be buried six feet under with a gravestone that read: He

Damien’s POV Jaxon leaned over her, his lips brushing her forehead in a kiss so tender, so intimate, it froze me in the doorway. Too soft. Too loving. My grip tightened on the doorknob until it creaked under the pressure. Was I imagining things? The medicine tugging her under, his concern heightened by loyalty… maybe I was seeing what wasn’t there. Or maybe not. Either way, the thought slammed through me like a warning: if Jaxon ever crossed a line with my sister, if he so much as thinks about her in a way he shouldn’t… I’d kill him. No hesitation. No second chances. Because Ellie was mine to protect. And anyone who dared forget that wouldn’t live long enough to regret it. The house was too quiet as I followed the nurse, Hilda, down the staircase. That silence…it was never peace. It was pressure. It was the kind of quiet that made your chest tighten because you knew it was only temporary before something broke again. Hilda had been with my family longer than anyo

Damien’s POV I took my time going back upstairs to see the little fiesty doll of cutie I’d left alone. Anticipation had my veins thrumming…it was in her too. I could almost feel it leaking from under the door before I even opened it. When I stepped inside, she didn’t even notice. She stood by the window, rooted to the spot, finger in her mouth like a guilty child. No, not guilt…anticipation. Her mind wasn’t in the room. It was on the plan she thought she’d orchestrated. The sweet little escape she imagined she could pull off. The thought bubbled in me like dark amusement. So she’d gotten her memories back. And she’d been playing me all along? Well. I love games. Especially when my opponent is also my obsession. Aha. No wonder she slapped me before. She knows. She knows she’s not my maid…she’s the woman who betrayed me, the one I kidnapped to punish. And she really thought I’d let just anyone into my home without knowing the dangers? Foolish. Hilda’s glare came back to me

Damien’s POV The first brush of the morning sun flashed into my eyes as I peered them open. Isabella was still flush against my chest, her hand sprawled over me like she was holding on for dear life. God, if she knew what that did to me… I wanted her to hold me like that even when she was awake, willingly, desperately. But I know that won’t happen yet. But very soon, it will. I studied her face, committing every detail to memory as if my life depended on it. Her lashes brushed her cheeks like fragile fans, her lips slightly parted, the softest pink, tempting and infuriating all at once. Her nose, delicate and small, wrinkled every time she breathed too deeply, like she was fighting even in her dreams. My beautiful little warrior. My stubborn little prisoner. I lifted her hand from my chest and pressed soft, feathery kisses along each knuckle, slow and deliberate, savoring the faint shiver that rolled through her even in sleep. Her skin was so soft I almost groaned into it.

Damien’s POV I turned back to the stove, flipping the bacon with a sharp snap of the spatula. A wicked grin pulled at my lips. She thinks she’s escaping me? Doll, you don’t even realize how deep you’re sinking. I poured the whisked eggs into the pan, the sizzle loud and sharp, and all the while my mind replayed her face when I pinned her, her breathless little whisper of stop, the way her knees nearly gave out when I bit down on her pulse. “God, Isabella,” I muttered under my breath, stirring the eggs. “You’re going to kill me with how much I want you.” And no matter how much she fought, how much she scurried off to hide, I knew the truth now. I had an effect on her. And once a man like me has that power… there’s no undoing it. By the time she came back down, I had everything ready. Plates set, bacon crisped golden, eggs fluffy, French toast dusted with sugar, strawberries glistening red against porcelain white. I’d even poured the orange juice into crystal glasses.