Novelas y relatos de Captured

Marissa and Lauren might be leaving Tomorrow evening for their hometown and that was the reason they wouldn't suspect that she was kidnapped. She was is kidnapped in the afternoon and by now it was seven already. She looked around trying to look for an escape but she found none. She tried the lift but it only opened with the fingerprint and Marcos to be exact. There was obviously no staircase and she was on the 30th floor so she did not even think about trying to climb down through the window because she was not in any movie which meant there was no way in hell to escape and the place felt like a jail to her.

I hurriedly searched through the email, and my breath caught in my throat as I found an attachment waiting for me. With hesitant anticipation, I opened the attachment, and what I saw before me shattered the fragile tranquility I had known. It was a collection of photos, carefully curated and organized, showcasing moments from my life—my private life—captured without my knowledge or consent. Each picture held its narrative, a silent testimony to the fact that I had been unknowingly observed, and monitored.

Tears fall quickly down my face, and at this point, I don’t even care. “Miss Price……” his voice fades into the background, as I perceive an amazing smell, pleasant to my nostrils. I feel my Wolf jump inside me, and I am about to turn to see the one who smelled so good when I feel someone grab me and inhale my scent. “Mine,” a voice whispers hungrily. I close my eyes in fear. Slowly, I open my eyes. And I see him. With terror, I quickly realize that Don Richardo is my other mate, and he is so scary.

FLASHBACK I was taking a walk around the island when my feet bring me in the beach. A gorgeous white fine sand and a clear sea that glistens when the sunlight hits its surface. I decided to take a picture of it when my camera caught a girl busy painting a beautiful art of the scenery. I was mesmerized and decided to have a closer look but when I decided to zoom in to get a closer look a beautiful and mesmerizing smile from the painter caught my eye. The painter’s beauty was more mesmerizing than her painting itself.

I was grabbed by my arm and pulled out of the car and started dragging me somewhere I have no idea, since I was blindfolded. After walking for almost five minutes, we finally stopped. In a matter of seconds, my blindfold was taken off me, giving me a view of my captors. He was gazing at me with a smug on his lips. I still couldn't understand how I reached into his car and why he had abducted me? Is he going to rape and then kill me? My stomach dropped at the thought. My thoughts were broken because of the muffled noise. I swiftly turned my head towards the source of sound and my eyes enlarged in disbelief as I took in the bone-chilling scene unfolding before me. Mary was sitting on the floor

I wandered around the room and saw two doors and I guess the bathroom was the one on the left side. I opened it and to my surprise, I saw a Jacuzzi. He's crazy, isn't he? Did even crossed his mind that I'm his victim? If that'll be my punishment here, then I'm fine being captured by him now- just kidding, I still want to go home.

So I rushed out the door that morning, my neck red and my throat swollen, to avoid Brendan’s offering of cereal and eggs. &n bsp; I flip down the car mirror and gingerly touch the marks. The ghost of Emmett’s fingers are swollen and perfect indentations. The more I look at them, the more they distort and twist, and my mind flashes back to silent suffocation, the primal desire for air, the sinking feeling that I was at his mercy. I hadn’t been able to move or make a sound, my breath lodged in my throat, Emmett’s fingers stopping it. Fuck them.

She is sure as hell that she has been heard from anywhere the bullcr*p he is at the moment! Totally exasperated, she reached for the vase from the side and slammed it hard on the camera, breaking it. She felt some satisfaction and even smiled at her little victory. At least, at some point, she retaliated by destroying one of his things. She is very sure that wherever he is, he would get furious because of what she did to his installed camera.

gte) To: Thurstin Laurence Pierce (Thurscruise@prisma.com) Subject: Scotch Girl XDDDD --- 1 attachment is available (D******d 25kbs ⬇️) --- End of message] I pressed the d******d and it was immediately processed. The image was saved straight into my gallery so I opened it. My hand was shaking when I clicked on the image to see what EJ said he shot the scene. When the picture opened to me, I gasped in surprise. I was struck by lightning. I can not believe. My chest was pounding hard and I felt like I lost my strength.

That’s why it’s not all that alarming to me when he enters with a grim manifestation. “Charles,” I acknowledge him as he bows in front of my desk. “Your Majesty,” he replies and drops a manila folder in front of me. “There’s something you need to see.” I lift the cover. There are photos inside, grainy, black-and-white shots blurred by movement. I look up. “Is this from the destroyed camera?” During the riot, someone—or several someones—had the forethought to destroy the security cameras. They largely failed; so far, only the scopes of two cameras can’t be retrieved. Charles nods, indicating that the number has dropped to one.