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Lahat ng Kabanata ng Damien's Willing Captive : Kabanata 131 - Kabanata 140

228 Kabanata

Clueless Bobbleheads

ISABELLA’S POV The banging came like a fist to my skull. I yanked the pillow over my head, willing the sound to vanish, but whoever it was didn’t believe in mercy. The pounding just kept coming…hard, fast, impatient. The rhythm crawled under my skin until ignoring it felt like trying to sleep through a fire alarm. “God, shut up,” I hissed to no one and swung my legs off the bed. The floor was cold beneath my bare feet. Damien’s order…Don’t leave this room until I’m back…still pressed against the back of my mind, but the banging wasn’t going to stop on its own. I shuffled to the door and yanked it open. Olivia stood there, arms crossed, one hip cocked, looking down at me like I was a stain she’d just discovered on her designer shoes. “Well, well,” she drawled, her lip curling. “Did the little whore forget her place? Why are you sleeping instead of cleaning the house?” My throat tightened, but I kept my voice soft, careful. “Damien told me to stay in the room until he re

What Kind of Sorcery Is This?!

ISABELLA’S POV I didn’t need to be told twice. I gritted my teeth as I retreated to the kitchen, the tray of untouched food still warm in my hands. The moment the door swung shut behind me, I dropped the act. My breath came hard and fast, each inhale scraping my throat. Rage coiled tight in my chest like a spring. I gripped the edge of the counter until my knuckles whitened. Stay calm. Play it smart. Damien isn’t here. I can still get out of here. Who knows? They might consider my plan. Minutes stretched into a fragile silence. Then Olivia’s voice shattered it. “Isabella!” she called, the sharpness in her tone slicing through the air. “Come here and pour us some wine, you dumb bitch.” I sucked in a breath, straightened my spine, gave myself a quick prep talk on why I need to swallow the insult. Then, I carried the bottle of expensive red back into the living room. The girls were lounging like queens again, their laughter low and cruel. I approached the coffee ta

Why Won’t He Throw Me Out?

ISABELLA’S POV His footsteps echoed down the hall, steady, unshakable, each one vibrating against my ribs where his chest pressed to mine. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. I just stayed curled in his arms like some delicate thing he’d stolen away from the fire, his warmth bleeding into me. This wasn’t right. He was supposed to hate me. He was supposed to be furious, to throw me out in disgrace, to scream until his veins popped. That’s the script I’d prepared myself for. Not… this. “Put me down,” I muttered, though my voice lacked conviction. He didn’t. He held me tighter, almost offended by the suggestion. His jaw was sharp, his eyes unreadable. “No.” No? That’s it? Just… no? We reached his roo…dark wood, leather, the faint smell of his cologne lingering in the air. He kicked the door shut with his boot and carried me to the bed, laying me down like I was made of glass. His hands didn’t leave me, hovering, as if even the air touching me could hurt. He crouched in f

When You’re Obsessed

ISABELLA’S POV Olivia stared at him like he’d punched a hole through the world. For a beat there was nothing…just the tick of the radiator, the faint rasp of Olivia’s breath, the way the air felt suddenly too small to hold everything. “You…what did you just say to me?” Her laugh ripped out of her, high and incredulous, as if the idea itself were ridiculous. “You’re…this is a joke, right? You begged me to take this job because you needed me. You promised me…Damie, you promised me we were… hell, we were partners. You’ve never once called me your assistant…and now suddenly you do? Because of her?” “Don’t make me repeat myself, Olivia,” he cut in, voice flat, the sort of quiet that made people pay attention because it suggested something more dangerous behind it. “This is my person, Olivia. If you can’t respect that…if you can’t accept that…then leave. Now. And let today be the last time you barge into my room without knocking.” Her face crumpled between shock and fury, the masc

Do You Need Me?

ISABELLA’S POV The world tilted sideways. My breath caught somewhere between my lungs and throat, clawing at me like it wanted out. Jace. Jace Salvador. Standing next to another woman. Ariana. Smiling like I’m not missing and everything is fine. I mean… it’s not like it’s his business anymore, but shouldn’t he at least care enough to look for me? Even if it’s just for appearances…just something on paper so the tabloids don’t brand him as some shady bastard. And how the hell does a man get engaged one moment, then turn around and slip a ring on another finger not long after? Is that how the rich play their games? Swap women like accessories and expect no one to notice? “No wait… what?” The words tumbled out of me again, shredded and broken. My knees trembled as I stumbled off the bed, the phone clutched so tightly my knuckles blanched. My heart was a fist, squeezing itself to death in my chest. I stared at the screen again, as if maybe, just maybe, the pixels would rearran

A Strain

DAMIEN’S POV I closed the door softly behind me, the latch clicking like a gun cocking. For a moment I just stood there, my forehead pressed to the cool wood, my palms flat against it. The echo of her scent clung to my shirt…warm skin, a faint trace of her shampoo, something uniquely Isabella that I could never quite name. I tilted my head back, eyes closing, and pressed my spine against the door, as if leaning on it would keep me upright. My body felt like a raging fire, humming with restraint. She had no idea how close I’d come to breaking. Damn. The word tore from me, low and ragged. I felt my cock throb painfully against the inside of my pants, every heartbeat a pulse of memory…her trembling under my palm, her gasp when I dragged her hand to me, the flash of defiance in her eyes even when her breath hitched. God, the beautiful things I wanted to do to her. Not cruel things. Just mind blowing punishments in pleasure. Lessons in pleasure so deep she’d never f

The Intruders

Damien’s POV The shot tore the air again…closer this time, a clean, arrogant crack that made the windows shudder. My body went hot and hard the way it did before a collision…focus, breath held, everything narrowed to a thin, sharp line of intent. “What was that?” Olivia asked, fear written all over her face. For a second the tensed beef between us and everything else was shoved aside…we both listened, ears straining into the dark. Could one of the boys be practising? We had the West Range in the compound for that…a reinforced, soundproof bunker off the east side where men taught themselves how to shoot without ringing the whole estate. No one fired out here unless they wanted someone to hear them. The third crack split the night, closer. Olivia bent, hands over her ears, a sharp animal sound tearing from her throat. I snatched my phone and hammered Jaxon’s number…nothing. Dead. I hit the landline downstairs…after a long beat Malia answered, whispering like she was cradlin

The Chaos in My Home

Damien’s POV The living room was chaotic when we got in. Two masked men had already claimed it as theirs. One tore through the drawers like a starving dog, tossing papers, silverware, whatever he could get his hands on. The other had his gun leveled at Ellie and Olivia. Of all fucking days, Ellie decides to leave her room? Perfect. Just perfect. The second we stepped in, the intruders spun toward us like wolves scenting blood. The one with the gun shoved the barrel closer to Olivia’s temple, yanking her against him. The other moved fast, dragging Ellie up and pinning her with a blade at her side. Their screams sliced through the room. “Damien, do something! Please!” Olivia sobbed, her voice breaking. Ellie’s tears streaked down her cheeks, her eyes wide with terror. Their cries made my skin crawl, made me feel like the most useless bastard in the room. I took a deep breath, forcing steel into my spine. At least Isabella isn’t here. Thank Christ for that. “Drop your weapo

Bloody Night

Damien’s POV “What can you possibly make me feel with that pathetic little dick?” Isabella snapped, venom lacing every word. Relief hit me like a wave. She wasn’t going with them. Not a chance. Good. The guy’s face twisted in shame, and rage took over. He yanked her hair so viciously that Isabella cried out in pain. “Shut your bitch-ass mouth!” he roared, spittle flying as his grip tightened. Every muscle in me wanted to move…to close the distance, to tear them off her and end them right there. The fury inside me was not a thought…it was an animal awake, measuring the space, smelling blood. I could feel it under my skin, a low drum that wanted action. But movement would be a footnote on their script. One wrong twitch and they could harm Isabella. So I held myself like a man containing a storm. I let my breath come slowly, practiced. I let my jaw ache. I met Isabella’s eyes and swallowed every shout, every curse, everything that wanted to explode out of me. I studied

The Psycho

Isabella’s POV My hands shook so violently I almost didn’t recognize them. They were slick and red…his blood, warm and sticky between my fingers. Damien’s blood. He took a bullet for me. Why? Why would he do that? The question clawed through my mind, scraping at the edges of my sanity. I reached for him as the guys moved in, but Olivia shoved me hard enough that I stumbled back. She slid into my place like she belonged there, cradling his head against her shoulder. What have I done? I should’ve stayed hidden when I heard the gunshot. I should’ve locked the door and pretended I didn’t exist. Why did I step out? Why did I think I could play the hero in a world I didn’t understand? Olivia’s words tore through my skull like shards of glass, echoing until I clutched my head as if I could hold the pieces of myself together before they split apart. Her words, her accusation, rang inside my head on a loop…it’s your fault…and I staggered back another step, numb. It is my faul

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