All Chapters of Damien's Willing Captive : Chapter 181 - Chapter 190

Isabella’s POV I stayed frozen at a spot.Meanwhile, he was still looking at me, those same dark eyes I’d stared into a thousand times since he took me…pleading now, soft, like he was waiting for me to understand. To forgive. To remember.All I could see was that masked stranger from my nightmares…the same one that shows up in different scenes every time I sleep. In some dreams, he forces himself on me. In others, he rips my stomach open and takes the baby. Sometimes, he just walks away, leaving me on the floor of a crowded street while I beg him not to leave. None of those things happened exactly like that, but that’s how my mind twisted what really happened and replayed it back to me.He left without a word that morning. I wasn’t expecting marriage or a relationship. There were no promises, no commitments. But I at least thought he’d have the decency to tell me his name or wait for me to see his face. Just that. Something to hold on to.But he left. Like a coward. He didn’t even ha

Damien’s POVFour days. Four fucking days in this concrete box, and it’s starting to feel real.At first, I thought it was a bad joke. Some mix-up with paperwork, fucking Osmond pulling strings for a quick scare just to have me in line. I’d be out by dinner, laughing about it with my people over steak and wine. Gerald would walk in, roll his eyes, and say, “Sign here, Voss. Let’s go home.”But it’s day four. I’m wearing an orange jumpsuit that smells like bleach and old sweat. My cell is eight feet by ten, with a metal toilet in the corner and a bunk that feels like sleeping on a slab of rock. The food is gray slop that tastes like regret. And every time that steel door clangs shut, it hits me harder…this isn’t a mistake. It’s not the usual push and pull Osmond always tosses at me. This is for real. He wants me to rot here.I paced the tiny space like a caged animal…three steps one way, three steps back…because sitting still makes my skin crawl. The walls feel like they are closing in

The Osmond Mansion****If there was one person Ariana Osmond hated more than the man who’d raised her…who she was now convinced had blood on his hands…it was the woman leaning against the study doorframe like she owned the place.Olivia Horace.Damien’s so-called best friend. His loyal assistant. The snake who’d slithered into every corner of Ariana’s life in the past and ruined it piece by piece.Ariana had seen through her from the start. In fact, she had tried to warn Damien about her, but he hated her family so much that he didn’t even want to listen. “She’s not who you think she is. Watch your back.” But it came out wrong…jealous, obsessive. Because yes, for a long time, Ariana had been obsessed with Damien. She’d loved him with every reckless, all-or-nothing fiber of her being. And that is the only way Ariana knows to love. It’s either she loves obsessively or she doesn’t love at all.It started back when their families were still together. When they ate from the same table.

The Osmond Mansion ****Carlos stood frozen, the phone pressed hard against his ear. The voice on the other end was low, urgent, spilling words that hit him like punches to the gut. Olivia sat perfectly still in her chair, watching every twitch on his face. The study felt smaller now, the air heavier, like the walls were closing in.Carlos’s eyes widened just a fraction. His free hand clenched into a fist at his side. Then, without warning, he yanked the phone away and hurled it across the room. It smashed against the bookshelf with a sharp crack, pieces scattering on the hardwood floor.“Fuck!” he screamed, the word exploding out of him like he’d been holding it in for years. He spun around, face red, veins bulging in his neck. “Why the hell is that bastard trying to destroy everything?”Olivia jumped a little at the outburst, her swollen wrist throbbing from the sudden movement. She stared at him, eyebrows raised. “What the hell was that about?”Carlos paced like a caged animal, br

Isabella’s POVWe stepped out of the apartment building into the crisp mid-morning air, and sure enough, the driver Jace had hired was already there…leaning against a shiny black SUV, scrolling on his phone. He straightened up the second he spotted us, gave a quick nod, and opened the back door.“Morning, ladies,” he said politely. “Ready when you are.”Agnes slid in first, and I followed, my legs still a little shaky from everything. The door clicked shut, and as the car pulled away from the curb, my mind wandered straight back to Jace.It had been two days after we first crashed into this apartment. I was still a mess…curled up in bed, eyes swollen from crying nonstop. Jace knocked softly, came in with two steaming mugs of coffee, and sat on the edge of the mattress like he was handling something fragile.He didn’t beat around the bush.“Isabella,” he said, voice low and way too serious for the guy who usually cracked jokes every five seconds trying to cheer me up. “I gotta get this