All Chapters of Doll: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

Adrian held me against his chest and I hated that I didn't pull away.His hand was on the back of my head, his fingers were pressed into my hair, and his heart was beating fast under my ear. He was scared, or angry, or both, I couldn't tell. He didn't say anything, he just held me there in the hallway with the bullet hole in the wall behind us and the smell of gunpowder still in the air.When I finally pulled back, his face was stone again. The moment was over."She pointed a gun at my head," I said. My voice was hoarse from her arm on my throat. "Why isn't she dead?""Because killing Viktor's daughter in my own house starts a war.""She tried to kill me.""She was testing you. And me. If she wanted you dead, you'd be dead."I stared at him. "That's supposed to make me feel better?""No." He turned and walked toward the sitting room. I followed him because I wasn't done being angry.He poured himself a glass of water, drank it, set the glass down. His hands were steady."What happens

The tires hummed against the asphalt as the black Rolls-Royce Cullinan tore through the quiet city streets, the passing streetlights casting long, sweeping shadows across the spacious leather cabin. Adrian and I sat in the back seat, separated from the driver by a thick glass partition that kept our world completely silent. He hadn't touched me since we got in, his focus locked onto a tablet in his lap, his jaw tight. The sheer wealth radiating from the car didn't make me feel safe; it just reminded me of how high the stakes were. The weight of the gun against my inner thigh felt heavier with every mile we traveled.Adrian didn't look up from the screen. "Listen closely," he said, his voice cutting through the quiet. "When we arrive, the driver will drop us at the main lobby of the Grand Horizon Hotel. To anyone watching, we are just an elite couple looking for a late-night drink. But once we hit the penthouse elevator, a specific key sequence takes us down into the sub-levels."I swa

The crushing pressure of Hector's fingers around my wrist sent a sharp spike of genuine agony up my arm. He stared down at me. His eyes held the cold, calculating look of a man who killed people for a living. He was looking right at my trapped hand. He knew I grabbed his belt.I had a fraction of a second to decide how I was going to survive this. If I fought him, he would break my arm and find the keycard. I needed him to think I was the most pathetic, useless creature in the entire building.I let out a piercing, ragged sob. I went completely limp against his grip, collapsing my knees slightly so he had to hold my weight. I curled my fingers inward, pressing the flat metal of the card tight against my palm, using the dark fabric of my dress to mask the bulky shape."You are hurting me!" I screamed, letting the raw terror in my chest bleed into my voice. Hot tears spilled over my cheeks. I thrashed my shoulders in a wild, uncoordinated panic. "Let me go! Please! I just want to find m

The glass was freezing against my bare shoulder blades, but his mouth was a brand of fire devouring my protests. Adrian kissed like he fought, without mercy, without hesitation, and with the absolute certainty of victory.My fists pounded against his chest.He didn't even flinch.I twisted my face away, gasping for air, my lips swollen and stinging. "I'm not one of them," I spat, my voice raw with fury. "You don't get to—"His hand closed around my throat.Not squeezing. Just holding. A collar of warm fingers and calloused palm resting against my pulse, which was hammering so hard I could feel it in my teeth."You're right," he said, his thumb stroking the frantic beat beneath my jaw. "You're not one of them. They never pointed a gun at me."The dark amusement in his voice sent a tremor straight through my core."They never looked at me like they wanted to carve my heart out with their bare hands." He tilted my chin up, forcing my tear-streaked face into the pale moonlight streaming t

The morning light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long, pale shadows across the tangled dark sheets. I woke up with a deep, lingering ache in my muscles and a heavy, sinking realization expanding in my chest.I rolled over, reaching my hand across the massive mattress.It was empty. The sheets on his side were already cold.I pulled the heavy duvet up to my chin, staring at the empty expanse of the bed. The scent of him—cedar, expensive cologne, and the faint, metallic trace of gunpowder—was still pressed into the pillows. A shiver ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. I squeezed my eyes shut, memories of the previous night flashing vividly behind my eyelids.The anger. The violent clash against the glass window. The way his hands had felt when they finally stopped pushing me away and pulled me under instead. I had crossed a line that could never, ever be uncrossed. I was no longer just playing a part to pay off a debt. I had