Todos los capítulos de POSSESSION: Hate Me: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

Jamie awoke slowly stretching his sore limbs.The room was unfamiliar in the way luxury often was—too large, too quiet, too perfect. Pale moonlight crept through tall curtains, washing the walls in silver. For a moment, he stayed still, staring at the ceiling, his body heavy, mind fogged with fragments of the night before. Warm hands. Powerful thrusts. The heat. Breath at his ear.Matteo. His stomach filled with butterflies. He body felt pleasantly sore and ached in all the right places.Surprisingly it was still dark the sun hasn't risen yet.Jamie turned onto his side.The bed beside him was empty.The sheets were still warm though. That meant Matteo had just gotten up. But this was his room, were could he have gone?A flicker of unease settled in his chest.“Matteo?” His voice sounded small in the vast room.No answer.Jamie pushed himself upright, the blanket slipping down his bare shoulders. His heart began to beat faster—not in panic, not yet, he just didn't know what yet. He

Jamie packed and unpacked his suit case three times.Each time, he told himself it was just in case. Just being prepared. Just thinking ahead.But the truth sat heavy in his chestI need to leave. I need to get Lucas and run. far away from this place.California felt impossibly far away—sun-bleached sidewalks, cheap takeout, late-night gaming sessions, the version of himself that hadn’t known what a dungeon smelled like. Or what a dead man looked like with a bullet hole in his head. That version felt like a stranger now.He zipped the bag halfway. Unzipped it again.His hands shook.You convinced Lucas to stay, a voice in his head reminded him cruelly.You dragged him here.The guilt was sharp enough to make his chest ache.When he finally found Lucas later that afternoon, it was by accident—on the terrace overlooking the sea. Lucas was leaning against the railing, sunlight catching in his blond hair, ankle finally free of bandages. He looked… good. Relaxed. Happy.Jamie almost broke

Jamie didn’t remember how he got back to his room.Only that at some point, Matteo was there.Sitting on the edge of the bed. Not touching him. Not speaking.Just there.Jamie’s body shook under the blankets, breath uneven, eyes staring at the wall like it might open up and swallow him whole.Matteo finally spoke. “You saw something you weren’t meant to.”Jamie flinched.“I’m sorry" Matteo continued quietly. “Not for what you saw. For how you saw it.”Jamie turned his head slowly. Matteo’s face wasn’t smug. Wasn’t cruel. If anything, he looked… tired.“You had killed him,” Jamie whispered.“Yes.”Jamie’s throat burned. “Did it feel good?”Matteo’s jaw tightened. “No.”Silence stretched between them.“I don’t enjoy it,” Matteo said after a moment. “Neither does Enzo.”Jamie laughed weakly, hysterical. “You expect me to believe that?”Matteo looked at him then, really looked at him. “Do you think men like us get to choose what we enjoy?”Jamie had no answer.Matteo stood. “Sleep. You’ll

Jamie woke to cold stone.Chills beneath his back. Draft in the air. The taste of salt and iron from the sea still clinging to his tongue. For a long moment he didn’t know where he was—only that his body hurt in places he didn’t remember injuring, that his head throbbed like the sea was still inside it.Then memory crashed back in.The cove. Lucas sinking. Enzo’s hands pulling him away. Matteo’s face when he realized that he was tricked.Jamie sucked in a sharp breath and immediately regretted it. Pain flared along his ribs, his shoulder, his thigh—scrapes from the rocks, bruises from being dragged through water and sand. Someone had cleaned him. Bandaged him. Changed his clothes.But they hadn’t stayed.The room was small and windowless, lit by a single warm bulb in the ceiling. Stone walls. A heavy wooden door reinforced with iron. No handle on his side.A cell.“Lucas,” Jamie croaked, voice hoarse. “Lucas—?”Nothing.Panic bloomed fast and ugly.He pushed himself upright, muscle

Jamie had stopped counting the days. Time had no meaning in the mansion—only the oppressive certainty that someone was always watching. Even in the moments when the corridors seemed empty, he could feel eyes tracking him, and his body tensed reflexively at every creak of the floorboards.Sleep was a stranger. When he did drift off, it was into dreams that felt like rehearsals for the horrors he’d already lived. He saw Lucas drowning over and over. He saw Greg’s pleading eyes. He saw Matteo’s gaze, calculating, cold, like a weight pressing directly on his chest.By the fifth day, Jamie had stopped asking about Lucas. Instead, he whispered his name into the dark, imagining his friend hearing him through walls and cameras and locked doors. “Lucas… I’m still here. I’m still—” He stopped himself. The word alive felt dangerous to speak.Then, on the sixth night, a shadow moved outside his room. Small. Human. Careful.“Jamie?” a voice whispered.He froze. Heart racing. That voice… the cadenc