Captivity Novelas e Histórias

Then he stood, towering over her. Shaun looked up at him. You are not complicit. When she shook her head, he tapped her cheek with his finger. It didn't hurt, but the tap was sharp enough to keep her from arguing with him. You're not complicit because you are my captive. You might love me, you might wish to stay with me, but you are still my captive. I will never let you go. Even if you come to hate me. Even if you run away from me. I will always find you and I will always bring you back.

"Come for me, Belle," Noah urged, his hips rolling in a slow, deliberate grind. "Show me how much you want this." But just as the intensity of their passion reached its peak, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway outside, and both of them froze. Belle’s heart raced as she stared at the door, her pulse pounding in her ears. They were caught, there was no way they could explain this away if someone walked in. The door wasn’t locked, and anyone could push it open at any moment.

After she was done with her meal, Sherry hesitated, her breath catching in her throat as she peered into the dimly lit bathroom. The absence of a proper door sent a shiver of apprehension coursing through her. This was no ordinary sanctuary; it was a place that could easily become a stage for shame if the master of the house chose to enter unannounced. She still bore the vivid memories of her previous days—stripped bare, exposed alongside other Captives, all subjected to the whims of those who viewed them as mere possessions.

"His name is Willy, he was caught close to our cargo in Auckland a few minutes ago." "Then what is SHE doing here?" Kael snarled, pointing at me. “Willy disguises himself as a girl to seduce the guards. Unfortunately, he matched Lily’s description.” Finn replied, staring at me. “You have 1 minute to get answers from him,” Keal announced then signaled Finn to leave. “C-can I go now?” I asked. Just as Kael's eyes locked onto mine the door swung open. Ava walked in smiling, struggling with her doll, a plate and a small book.

His men followed, a well-trained unit dismantling Volkov’s operation with precision. In the center of the compound, a locked truck held the captives. Bain’s blood boiled as he saw terrified eyes staring back at him. Girls—young, broken, stolen from their lives. Cassie’s face flashed in his mind. With a single shot, he blew off the lock. “You’re safe now,” he told them. “No one will ever touch you again.” Tears, relief, whispered prayers. Bain turned to his men. “Get them out of here.”

“Some of you will serve as slaves to be sold. Others will be prostitutes in our clubs. And a lucky few will become show wrestlers. If you can prove you’re strong—if you can fight and win—you’ll be selected for the arena. From there, you can fight for your freedom.” He gestured to his men. “We’re going to test you. You’ll fight each other. Get your opponent to submit, and you win. Simple.” They removed our bindings and assigned us numbers. I became Captive 25. There were twenty-five of us in total. “Captive 1 and Captive 2, step forward.” The fights began. We were forced to battle each other. There were fifteen women and ten men in total. Some fights were quick, others dragged on. A few stron

I turned toward Suzanna, my jaw clenched in helpless frustration. “I can make time.” Alton opened a manila folder on his desk and gestured toward the chair beside me. “Suzy, sit. Bryce, pull over another chair. Brantley is waiting to take us back to Montague Corporation. The world doesn't stop because Alexandria has decided to grace us.” I didn't decide to grace them. I was kidnapped, tricked, and captured. Momentarily, the loss of Columbia drowned out the commotion of everyone sitting around me. I turned toward Bryce. “You're going back to work? What about going to see my mother?”

"No one will ever hurt you again." Isabella cried in his arms like a wounded dove. And I was dragged away like a common criminal. New York City Detention Center, Cell Block 7. This was where they held women on remand for minor charges. When they pushed me into the cell, a few imposing women surrounded me. "New girl? What're you in for?" The leader was a large woman with tattooed arms. "Assault," I answered simply. "Ooh, a little spitfire," the woman grinned, cracking her knuckles. "You know the rules here? Newbies pay a protection fee."

Not leader. Just a specimen. Property. Experimental subject. Forever. The truck drives on. Taking us to our new prison. Our new life. Our new reality. Permanent captivity. Endless experimentation. Living death. This is how it ends. Not with glory. Not with victory. Not with heroic sacrifice. With paralysis. With capture. With defeat. Complete. Total. Final.

His empire was about to be dismantled in front of his eyes. "We're going to sell them," Dimitri said to his men. "Put them in the buses. They're merchandise now." The men started moving captives toward the exits, herding them like cattle. They were screaming, struggling, crying. It was chaos and violence and suffering all mixed together. Then Dimitri's eyes caught something.