All Chapters of Bound By Vengeance : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

The car door slammed shut, and the sound reverberated inside me like a death knell, sharp and unforgiving. My ears rang from it, but it wasn’t just the noise—it was the finality of it. The boundary between freedom and captivity had never felt so absolute, so suffocating.The smell inside the car hit me in waves: the leather seats, sharp gasoline, and Dante’s cologne—a dark, intoxicating scent that made my stomach twist. I struggled for air, my chest heaving like I’d run a mile, even though I’d barely moved. Every inhale felt stolen, like the space itself belonged to him. My pulse thundered in my temples, echoing against my ribs. No matter how much I drew in, the air was never enough.I was back in the cage. And Dante was the bars.The tires crunched over gravel, jerking the car forward. Each turn carried me farther from the freedom I had nearly grasped, each second driving home the cruel reality: he always caught up. My body shifted with the motion, muscles taut, every nerve screaming

The click of the lock echoed louder than thunder, reverberating through the room and straight into my chest. Every nerve fired, every muscle tensed. I froze in the center of the suite, staring at the door Dante had just closed, as if it were a portal to a world I could never escape.My breath came in jagged bursts, each inhale scraping my throat like shards of glass, each exhale heavy with smoke, leather, and the lingering, inescapable essence of him.He hadn’t touched me the way I feared. Not completely. But he had touched me enough.My temple throbbed where I had slammed into the wheel, my lip pulsated with a hot, insistent pain—but the ache that hollowed me out wasn’t physical. It was the knowledge that no matter how hard I ran, how desperately I clawed for distance, Dante always found me. Always.I spun toward the window, pressing my palms flat against the cold glass, as though sheer force of will could fracture the barrier between me and freedom. Outside, the grounds stretched in

I woke to sunlight.Golden rays spilled through the tall windows, cutting through the lingering shadows like liquid fire, painting the walls in warmth that didn’t belong to me. For a fleeting moment, I forgot where I was. For a moment, I was back home—before all of this—before the cages, the fear, the relentless game. Mornings had meant coffee, the soft hum of music, the comforting chaos of life. Not chains, not darkness, not Dante.But then reality slammed back.I rolled over, and the silk sheets clung to my legs like living shackles. My lip throbbed, aching with the memory of teeth and metal. My temple pulsed from the crash. And with each heartbeat, it all came rushing back—the screeching tires, the sudden headlights, Dante’s hand closing around my wrist, his voice brushing across my ear like fire: You belong to me.My stomach twisted violently, a knot of nausea and defiance.I shoved the sheets off and sat on the edge of the bed, burying my face in my hands. My body felt leaden, we

He was too close.The air around him was thick, suffocating, charged with everything he carried: smoke, leather, power. My body betrayed me before my mind could catch up. My breath hitched, shallow and fast. My pulse thundered against my ribs. Every nerve in my skin screamed where his shadow brushed mine, leaving sparks of heat I didn’t want to feel.I hated it. I hated him.But my body didn’t care.His presence was a storm, and I was caught in the eye, helpless to resist. Every inch of me screamed rebellion, yet every fiber of my being hummed with a dangerous, impossible desire.His voice wrapped around me like a chain, each word digging under my skin, settling there, impossible to dislodge. “You already belong to me.”I wanted to scream. I wanted to claw at that arrogant, perfect face until it cracked. Until he bled like I did. But when I opened my mouth, nothing came out. The silence mocked me, thick and heavy, pressing down on my chest.So I laughed instead. Low. Bitter. Shaking,

The first thing I noticed was the light.Not sunlight through narrow, barred windows. Not shadows slicing across cold, stone walls. This light was different. Soft. Golden. Endless. Warm enough to make the silk sheets gleam like liquid sunlight. Warm enough to make me wonder if I’d dreamed of darkness all my life.I blinked awake and froze.This wasn’t my room.The silk sheets were familiar, yes, but the space around me had changed. The walls stretched wider, painted in tones that whispered of comfort rather than imprisonment. Sheer curtains swayed with a breeze I shouldn’t have felt in a cage. A chandelier glittered above, its crystals catching the light like frozen fire, scattering prisms across the ceiling.I sat up slowly, pulse hammering, ears straining for the sound of chains or a key turning.My bare feet hit polished wood instead of cold marble. The air smelled faintly of roses and something richer—smoke, leather. Him.I crossed to the door, hand trembling as I reached for the