Semua Bab Contract Marriage To The Alpha King : Bab 91 - Bab 96

Damian’s POV I stood at the bottom of the grand staircase, my gaze locked on her retreating form. Each slow, deliberate step she took, her hand gripping the polished banister so tightly her knuckles were white, her shoulders stiff with forced composure, did nothing to calm the raw, visceral storm that churned inside me. If anything, her pathetic show of resistance only fueled it, igniting a deeper, more primal rage. My jaw clenched so tight it ached, a dull, persistent throb. My knuckles still pulsed beneath the hastily applied bandage Ava had wrapped around them earlier—too tight at first, then trembling, hesitant, as she tried to fix the damage I had wrought. The rough, masculine scent of the office, tainted with the faint, metallic tang of James’s blood, still clung to my skin, a constant reminder of my unchecked fury. I hadn’t even bothered to bandage them properly after slamming that sniveling coward into the floor, hearing the sickening crunch of his jaw snapping under my

Damian’s POV Her silence when I told her to undress was deafening, a stark contrast to the furious roar of my own blood in my ears. It wasn't the silence of defiance, not truly, but a fragile, terrified stillness. Her hands, though trembling visibly, moved slowly, reluctantly, to the delicate buttons of her blouse. One by one, each button released felt like a small, agonizing victory, a concession wrung from her unwilling spirit. And yet, it wasn't enough. Not nearly. Her defiance still lingered in the air, a subtle, almost imperceptible scent that mingled with her fear. Even as she stood there, stripped down to nothing but her thin lace underthings—a delicate, almost transparent barrier against my gaze—her eyes were still bright with unshed tears, glistening like polished stones. And in their depths, I could still discern it: that little spark of rebellion, that infuriating unwillingness to fully submit, to truly break. It infuriated me. A hot, sharp surge of rage that clawed at

Ava’s POV The door to the bathroom shut behind him with a soft, final click, a sound that resonated in the hollow space he left behind. I lay there, motionless, my body a leaden weight, my arms sprawled uselessly at my sides, the sheet half-draped over my bare, bruised skin, a pitiful attempt at modesty. Everything ached. A deep, pervasive soreness had settled in my bones, a constant, physical reminder of the night’s brutal lessons. The raw sting of the metal cuffs was still carved into my wrists—angry red welts throbbing with every faint pulse, a testament to my futile struggle. My thighs felt heavy, sore, like leaden anchors, and the dull, burning ache between them reminded me with cruel, agonizing precision of everything he’d done to me, of the violent, primal claim he had made. The pillow beneath my head was a cold, damp patch. From tears, though I hadn’t even noticed they’d been falling, a silent, unending river that had escaped my control. I blinked at the intricate pattern