Todos los capítulos de Ruthless Claim: Capítulo 1 - Capítulo 10

Aria’s POV Aria Lane didn’t remember the exact moment her life began to unravel. Maybe it was the day her father signed his name on that loan, promising money they didn’t have. Or perhaps it was the night the police knocked on their tiny house door and dragged both her parents away as if they were thieves. Each morning, as she stirred from the discomfort of her tiny dorm bed with its springs jabbing at her back through the worn mattress, she tallied the hours available for work before fatigue would bring her down. Attending classes had become a secondary concern in recent times. Ensuring her survival took precedence. She could feel her mother’s voice in her bones whenever she found herself staring too long at her bank balance: “Keep your head high, Aria. Money comes and goes. Your pride is forever.” But pride didn’t post bail, and pride didn’t pay off the loan sharks. She sat alone at the corner table in the campus café, her textbooks spread out but unopened. She hadn’t eaten y

Aria barely slept. She lay awake long after Luca’s office door clicked shut, replaying every word she’d read on that cruel, clinical page: “Perfect candidate. Desperate enough to comply. No risk of breach.” She hated how true it felt, how she’d let herself become exactly that. By dawn, the city lights had faded to a gray, drizzling sky. She sat at the edge of her new bed, too big, too soft, and stared at her reflection in the mirrored wardrobe. The girl who looked back at her seemed hollowed out already. No. She wouldn’t let him do this. If she had to give up her body, she’d keep the last scraps of her dignity. She dressed quickly in black leggings and an old hoodie she’d stuffed in her bag, then crept down the hallway. The penthouse felt too quiet. Even the marble floors muffled her footsteps, as if they were conspiring to keep his secrets. She found him in the kitchen. Of course, he was already awake. Luca Cross leaned against the counter, sleeves pushed up, shirt colla

That evening, Aria barely touched her dinner. She sat on the balcony instead, knees drawn to her chest, staring at the city below. From this height, the people looked like a restless ocean anonymous, free, and nothing like her. The first signs of pregnancy were impossible to ignore now. Queasiness. Dizziness whenever she stood too fast. And Luca’s eyes were on her watchfully, smug as if he already knew. He hadn’t touched her since that night. He didn’t need to. His control wrapped around her like an invisible leash, the locked penthouse doors, the guards near the elevator, and Maria’s too-gentle glances. She’d never been so well-fed, and yet so starved. “Eat,” Luca said when he found her picking at her food. His voice was calm, but it carried no room for refusal. “I’m not hungry.” “Try again.” He poured a glass of water and set it down, his fingers brushing hers. Even that brief touch sent a rush down her spine, a reminder of everything he had taken… or everything she h

Every night in the penthouse felt like a prison..soft sheets, silk curtains, and silence that pressed against her skull. Aria sat on the edge of the bed, knees drawn up, city lights flickering through the rain-streaked glass. Her phone lay useless beside her pillow. Every number, every contact that once tethered her to the real world is gone. Just a brick now. She thought of her parents. Her mother’s dawn tea. Her father hummed old love songs under his breath when he thought no one could hear. Did they even know where she was? Or did they think she had abandoned them? The door clicked open. Luca stood there, half-shadowed, in black slacks and a white shirt undone at the collar. His hair was damp, rain still clinging to him. He didn’t knock. He never did. “You should be sleeping,” he said. “I can’t.” He shut the door behind him with a soft, final thud. His eyes lingered on her, dark and unreadable. “Is it the sickness?” His glance dropped to her belly. He never sai

Aria didn’t wait for permission this time. Days in Luca’s glass penthouse had turned every wall into a mirror of her own cage. But there was still a world outside one he couldn’t control every second of every day. He’d left early, a curt note beside her untouched breakfast: Meeting. Don’t leave. She stared at the neat handwriting until the words blurred, then stuffed it in her pocket like a challenge. Maria was gone. The guards at her door only nodded as she passed, polite but expressionless. Maybe they thought she was too meek to try. Or too smart. She pulled her hood low, walked into the elevator, and braced herself. The doors closed without interruption. No hand is dragging her back. No voice in her ear: Not so fast, sweetheart. When the lobby doors opened, the city air slammed into her like a slap. She almost laughed, diesel, food trucks, wet pavement, life. She walked for blocks with no plan. No bag, no money, just a crumpled bill in her pocket. It didn’t matter. Each st