บททั้งหมดของ Bride For The Blind Don: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

Amber's POV. "Drop her there!" Skylar’s voice cut through the silence like a knife. The guards didn’t hesitate. They dragged me to the far corner of the SedWood compound like I was some stray animal. The ground was hard—dirt mixed with gravel. Cold. Merciless. “Chain her hands separate,” Skylar snapped, stepping forward like she enjoyed the moment. “Let her feel the weight of disobedience. Let her feel what it means to go against Father.” I screamed as the cuffs clamped around my wrists, pulled wide apart and locked to iron hooks in the wall. My shoulders burned from the stretch. My muscles trembled. “Skylar… you're my sister,” I cried. “Why are you doing this? What have I done to deserve this?” My knees gave out, and I collapsed. I barely had time to breathe before she walked up and kicked my legs out completely. I fell hard onto my knees. The skin tore. I felt blood warm against my shin. “Good,” she whispered, smiling like a snake. “That’s how you should be—on your

Zeden’s POV. “Marriage?” I let out a laugh. Not loud. Not forced. It came out as a low growl from deep in my chest as I paced around her. My stick tapped the ground with every step, slow and steady. She flinched at the sound. I could feel it in the air. They say I’m blind. But I see more than they’ll ever know. My ears catch every shift in the room. My nose tells me more than eyes ever could. Her fear? It’s thick. I could smell it before she even opened her mouth. “Who the fuck told your father to speak to me about marriage?” I snapped, stopping in front of her. “You think you’re fit to be my maid, let alone a wife?” I slammed the stick down once and broke it clean in half. Threw it across the room without hesitation. “Fucking disrespectful,” I barked. “How dare he try to trick me with this nonsense?” She didn’t speak. But I could hear her breath—shaky, uneven. Her heartbeat was louder now. Fast. Her body was trembling. I didn’t need to touch her to know she was panicking

~~Amber~~ Being blind and cruel—those two words aren’t enough to define Zeden. I wasn’t the only one who’d heard stories. They say he doesn’t flinch before killing. A monster. A cold-blooded killer. They say he collects girls. Young ones. Virgins. Keeps them locked away for his twisted pleasure. Uses them like objects. Now, looking at the innocent little girl in front of me… I realize this man is even worse than the rumors say. He’s not just some perverse, pleasure-hungry blind bastard. He’s raising her in this blood-soaked prison—training her to become one of his future toys. This isn’t a guess. My gut never lies. I let out a heavy breath, watching the girl stare at me with those wide eyes. “What’s your name, princess?” I asked softly, trying to reach out through the small opening between us. But she stepped back. “Are you my mother?” Her voice was small. “The maid said my mother would come today. That’s why I’m wearing this dress…” She looked down, a little sad

~~Zeden~~ I smelled the panic rising off her. It clung to Daya like sweat, thick and sour. She was trembling—and it wasn’t because I’d just yelled at her in front of the staff. No, this was something deeper. Something heavier. Something she didn't want to say out there. “Come to my room,” I said calmly, already walking away. I heard her footsteps shuffle quickly behind mine. She didn’t hesitate. Inside the room, I stopped just by the door. She stepped in but I turned sharply, blocking her path, forcing her to stay near the entrance. “So?” I said, my voice flat. “What’s stuck in that throat of yours?” I tilted my head slightly. Her breathing was fast, uneven. I could hear her fidgeting, trying to piece her words together. Choosing carefully. Too carefully. I waited a second. “You’re going to spend the whole day twisting your fingers like a coward, wasting my time?” I said, sharp and cold. “If you have nothing to say, leave. And make sure what I ordered earlier is be

“The food is ready. Don—” I bit down on the last word, my teeth clenched, but it came out more like a moan as he finally released my neck. “Dish it out,” he ordered, withdrawing his fingers from my pussy slowly, deliberately. He leaned into my ear. “Would you like to know what you taste like?” “No. I don’t want that,” I said quickly, without hesitation. He let out a low growl, amused. “What kind of girl says no to her own wetness?” “Take it,” he said, voice sharper now. “I don’t want to repeat myself. If it dries off, I’ll start again. And when I do, you’ll be making another meal. A fresh one—completely different. And you know what happens to bad girls who leave little girls hungry. She was starving before I got here.” I didn’t know if it was something in his voice… some twisted magic behind the way he said it. But my hand moved on its own. I grabbed his wrist and slowly guided his wet fingers to my mouth. I’d never tasted myself before. I’d never even thought of it.