Chapter 44 - FORTY FOUR

Chapter 44: Chapter FORTY FOUR

ANGEL

It was less than twenty-four hours since I escaped, but Damien looked different.

More strict.

Cruel.

He was dressed in all black—perfectly tailored pants, crisp black shirt with the sleeves rolled up showing those forearms I’d felt pinning me down more times than I could count.

He didn’t look at all like a man who’d swallowed seven sleeping pills mixed with alcohol.

He looked healthy. Strong. And terrifying as ever, easily towering over me.

This had to be a nightmare. I wanted to wake up, but instead, my knees buckled.

Damien moved fast, one arm shot out to wrap around my waist before I hit the ground. He pulled me against that solid chest, holding me up when my legs wouldn’t work.

His body was warm. Solid. Real.

This wasn’t a dream like last night!

"Careful now," the devil murmured smoothly against my hair, his breath warm. "It’s me, not a ghost,"

He let me go, and I staggered backwards. Damien was watching me, a wicked amusement dancing in his eyes.

Camila walked to perch against his side with a smile that was too excited. "Master, I think she’s nuts. She mentioned now that you were dead, and I told her I just finished sucking your cock." She laughed softly, her expression docile, completely different from the bitch who had been throwing me glares since I came.

Damien stroked her hair fondly, his eyes never leaving mine. My gaze lingered on his hand, those fingers brushing through her strands for a second.

"Inés!" His voice cut through the room. Sharp and commanding. "Take our guest to the red room."

Red room?

Where the hell was that? The name alone made my blood freeze in my veins.

Kayla and Lona were staring at me, their faces had gone pale. Something resembling pity flickered in Kayla’s eyes, but when she opened her mouth, Lona grabbed her arm, stopping her.

Footsteps approached behind me. I twisted my head to see Nessa—no, Inés.

The warm woman from yesterday was completely gone. Her expression looked very obedient.

"Yes, Master," she said quietly, bowing. Then she reached for my arm. "Come, Mija."

I jerked away from her. "Don’t fucking touch me!"

Her hand shot out anyway, her fingers wrapping around my wrist.

I shoved her. Hard.

She stumbled backwards with a startled cry.

Then I ran.

Into the vacation house frantically. I yanked doors open as I passed them. But it was just more bedrooms.

It couldn’t be just that there was just one exit...right?

There had to be another way out.

My heart was trying to break through my ribs, there was just one door left at the extreme.

I pushed it open.

Darkness.

The room was pitch black even though it was morning outside.

I didn’t get enough time to think when I heard footsteps echoing behind me. I knew it was him.

He wasn’t even running; he was walking, as if he had all the time in the world to catch me.

I dashed into the room, heaving as I stumbled into the darkness.

My chest was burning and I couldn’t catch my breath properly. Fear mixed with hopelessness trickled down my spine.

Why did I bother running?

There was no escape from this island. From him.

The footsteps stopped outside the door.

I heard the door open slowly.

I could feel his presence even before the light turned on.

Red lights flooded the room, harsh and glaring.

It was the kind of red that made everything look like blood. Like hell.

Damien stood in the doorway, the lights made him appear more scary, more demonic—like the devil himself opening the gates of hell to welcome me in. Or lock me inside.

This was the red room?

My eyes adjusted slowly, taking in the walls. They were covered with things—leather straps, metal chains, whips of different sizes, paddles, canes, things I didn’t even have names for. Tools that looked like they belonged in a torture museum.

There was a large bed with posts at each corner. Restraints hanging from the walls.

Horror pooled in the pit of my stomach, spreading torturously, I could feel the cold wetness of it drenching my skin, until I was hyperventilating.

This wasn’t a bedroom. This was a torture chamber.

My head snapped back to Damien’s, his eyes didn’t look grey, they were dark. Furious. Burning with something that made my skin crawl.

I took a step backwards. Then another. And another.

"Ninety-seven."

His voice cut through the silence.

"Ninety-eight."

What?

"Ninety-nine."

Why was he counting?

"One hundred!"

The realization literally had me screeching to a halt.

"Good girl," he said, but nothing was praising about it.

He’d been counting every single step I took away from him!

Fear had me rigid in my position, unable to move away another inch. My legs wouldn’t work anymore. Like they’d forgotten how.

He locked the door behind him. It clicked shut with a finality that made my stomach drop.

We were alone now.

Tears and fear burned in my eyes, blurring my vision. "Please—"

"Shh. Don’t beg." His voice was cold, his smile purely demonic.

"Please..." I tried again anyway because what else did I have?

He frowned this time like I was disappointing him deeply.

My legs were rooted like a statue, watching him walk to the wall, he pulled out a crop and held it in his hand.

He swished it through the air. The sound it made was soft but threatening.

I still didn’t understand.

Not only had he survived, but he was this healthy? Like nothing had happened to him at all?

"How are you still alive?" I forced myself to ask.

He didn’t turn, he just kept inspecting torture tools like he was shopping for groceries. Then he spoke, "There are cameras all around that house, Angel. Did you think I didn’t see you steal those pills?"

My chest crushed instantly. He’d known the entire time? He’d let me act on purpose. There was never a time when I’d truly escaped.

"I watched you run out that door thinking you’d won." He said and finally turned around, holding a thick leather whip in one hand and metal cuffs in the other.

My chest faltered in panic when he smiled that same cold smile that didn’t penetrate his eyes.

"You must be wondering how I survived, even when you fed me extra pills and gave me a kiss of death." He licked his lips slowly like he could still feel my taste there.

I shuddered.

He stepped forward like a frightening predator.

It took everything in me not to run. Not that there was anywhere to go.

"I once told you, Inés had a habit of mislabeling things." He said. "Those pills were simple vitamin supplements."

I stared at him in shock, I didn’t believe him. "No. You did it on purpose just to f-fool me." I stammered.

"Maybe. Does it change anything?" He took another step toward me, dread burrowing in my spine when he circled my shivering form slowly, threateningly.

"You had no hope, it was either Ines or some other driver who works for me," He was behind me, his fingers catching strands of my hair. I flinched. A terrified whimper slipped from my throat.

"I warned you not to get caught. I told you there’s no life for you outside my world." His voice dropped, but somehow it made him sound scarier.

I turned to face him, keeping him in my sight. My heart beating too rapidly with terror.

"Vin also told me that you tried to contact him." His fingers were still toying with my hair. "You left what—a voicemail begging for help? Did you think anyone was going to come for you?" He sneered.

The words hit my heart like a cold dagger, twisting. Hard. Painful. Like my heart was being torn apart in real time.

Daddy got my call.

He knew where I was. That I was terrified. I had pleaded with him that I needed him.

And he didn’t come. He let Damien get me.

"Vin also had very specific requests for me after learning you escaped." Damien gripped my chin, forcing me to meet those stabbing eyes "He said to break all the fight left in you. If I didn’t break you properly, you’d be difficult to sell."

I didn’t make a sound, but gradually, Damien’s form became unclear, blurrier.

A sound escaped my throat, and I realized tears were falling freely down my face. No words could describe the terrible pain that seared through my heart.

How could Daddy do this to me? All of his protection, his love for years. It was all a lie. He owned slaves, and he was making me become one of them. There was never a point where he even considered me his daughter, not to mention a lover.

The tears kept dropping at a faster pace, until I couldn’t breathe, my breathing was loud. Ugly. Ragged.

I would have done anything for him. Be anything for him.

How could he treat me this cruelly? Killing me along with my parents would have been better, at least I would never know him, and my heart wouldn’t be in this much agony.

Something within me shatter. Maybe it was my fight... or my heart, I couldn’t tell.

The person I’d loved most in the world had thrown me away like garbage. I was never worth anything. He was the worse, if he wanted to hurt me, he could have done it himself. But he’d sent Damien. Like I wasn’t even worth him punishing by himself.

"Take off your clothes, Angel." Damien’s voice was firm and cold.