The Devil's Embrace by Diaz at Inkitt

This is a sample

Chapter 1

Trigger Warnings!!!

This is a Dark Mafia Romance book which will include but are not limited to....

Murder, graphic violence, non/dub con, child abuse, sex trafficking, rape, drug/alcohol use, kidnapping, captivity, abuse, miscarriage, branding, bondage.

Author's Note:

If you've been with me for a while and know my previous stories, then you're already familiar with my style and just how far into the darkness I'm willing to go to tell a compelling tale. This one is no exception, pushing those boundaries even further. So, please, I'm genuinely asking you to read at your own discretion and take care while you explore this intense and gritty world with me. It's going to be a raw and unforgettable journey!

….CHAPTER 1….

Layla’s POV.

Just because I'm telling you my story, doesn't mean I made it out alive.

“I don't care what you have to do. You better save my Wife before I start sending this entire Hospital to the graveyard.” I hear my husband scream.

I also can feel the hands of the doctors moving quickly around me, trying to save me, but it all seems so distant, like I’m floating in a sea of darkness. In and out of consciousness, I see my Husband barking orders to the doctors trying to save me even when he has his own demons to slay.

That’s the thing with Andrei, he's always saving me. He saved me from my old life. He saved me from my own self.

“Come on, Trouble. Stay with me, you can't leave me...... you just can't.” Andrei’s voice is filled with emotion, with desperation, as he pleads with me to fight, to stay with him.

I try to hold onto his words, to cling to them like a lifeline, desperately trying to anchor myself to them…..to him. But the world around me seems to lose its color, fading into a blur of black and white as I try to focus on my husband’s face.

“Come on beautiful, we still have so many things we need to do…. Like get that dog you always wanted.” He pleads again.

I feel myself slipping away, drifting further and further from reality, from the life I have known and loved.

“Hey, hey, hey! You can’t die on me, Layla! I won’t fucking let you.” He commands.

I try to reach out to him, to grab his hand and hold on tight, but my fingers feel numb and unresponsive.

“Fucking idiots! Do something!”

I feel coldness seeping into my bones, a chill that penetrates to the very core of my being. And my body shivering uncontrollably, racking with spasms, no doubt shutting down from all the blood lost.

“She's going into cardiac arrest!” The doctor yells.

I try to summon the strength to fight against the darkness that threatens to swallow me whole, but my efforts are in vain.

“No, no, no! Stay with me! Trouble, stay with me.” Andrei yells, cupping my face.

The last thing I feel is my husband's lips on my forehead, his hot tears wetting the skin of my face, and the last thing I see are those honey brown eyes pleading with me to stay.

Sometimes, a story doesn't have the ending it deserves. But when the pages in between are so incredibly heartwarming and heartrendingly beautiful, they're worth telling. So here's how mine began.

A Year Ago.... Still in Layla's POV.

I look at my wedding dress hanging on the hanger and a small smile paints my face. It isn't the typical extravagant gown that most brides dream of wearing on their special day. Instead, it’s a simple white spaghetti-strap satin dress that I bought at a second-hand store, with the little money I put aside for this day.

It looks more like a cocktail dress than a wedding one, but I have never been one for extravagance. I also didn't want to spend a fortune on a dress that I would only wear once, so as soon as I saw it, I knew it was perfect for me.

I'm Layla Brown, and I'm a 24 year old that’s about to marry her long time boyfriend Hector. He and I have been together for a little over 6 years. He's the only family I have and the only one I’ve ever truly known since my parents died when I was 5.

Growing up in foster care was a difficult and lonely experience for me. For some reason, no one seemed interested in adopting me, and that made me feel unwanted and unloved for so long. I watched for many years as children were taken in by families, while I remained in the system, bouncing from one foster home to another.

Hector was in many of the same houses I stayed in, which made us both become really close even when he was older than me. He became my protector, my best friend, my rock in a stormy sea. He made sure I was okay, even when he was struggling himself.

Whenever I felt scared or alone, he would be there to hold my hand and tell me everything was going to be alright. He was my prince charming if I ever believed in one. But that changed when he aged out of the foster care system, and left. Leaving me completely heartbroken.

I was only 16 and feeling as though I had lost the only family I had ever known. We lost contact for two long years. But on my 18th birthday, Hector came back, wanting to take me away from the horrible place I was living in. I didn’t hesitate, didn’t even have to think about it. He was back, and that’s all that really mattered to me. And from that moment until today, we have been inseparable.

He showed me and continues to show me what I was missing for so long–someone to call family.

I take a deep breath and reach out for the dress, my fingers grazing the delicate fabric as I grab it and start sliding into it. Once the dress is on, I can't help but smile as I look at myself in the full-size mirror, imagining Hector's face when he sees me walking towards him.

“He's going to love it.” I murmur to myself, then take a deep breath, and let it out slowly as I run my hands down the smooth fabric of the dress, feeling a sense of calm washing over me.

I know that this is the biggest step I’ll be taking towards my future, towards a lifetime of happiness with the man I love. But I’m ready. More than ready. I was born to be his wife.

I step out of the tiny room and into the small chapel where Hector and a priest are waiting for me. Hector’s eyes are on me as I walk down the small aisle, his eyes sparkling as he takes every inch of me.

He’s looking handsome in a suit he borrowed from one of his friends, and as my eyes meet his, the world outside the chapel walls cease to matter.

It’s just him and I.

Hector meets me almost at the end of the aisle, his eyes a little wild as if he’s unsure if I’ll go through with this. “You're ready?”

I nod, my eyes never leaving his. “I've been ready since the day I met you.”

Hector steps closer, his hand reaching out to me. “Then let’s make you my wife.”

I nod again, and we walk the rest of the way until we are in front of the Priest. The Priest, an elderly man with a kind smile, instructs us to face each other and to hold both hands.

“We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of Layla Brown and Hector Diaz. Today you not only marry the right person, you also commit to being the right partner.” The Priest starts, and Hector and I, still looking at each other, nod our heads, then turn to the Priest again.

“Do you Layla take Hector to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health. In good times and not so good times, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live?” The Priest asks.

“I do.” I answer with a smile.

The Priest nods with a smile and turns to Hector next. “Do you Hector take Layla to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health. In good times and not so good times, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto her for as long as you both shall live?”

“I....” Hector starts, but before he can say ‘’Do’’, the doors of the chapel fly open with the force of a storm.

Panic grips me as I turn and see as a group of men storm in, with weapons raised and pointing them at us.

“Step away from the girl.” One of them says, as they move with a precision that speaks of rehearsed aggression, their eyes scanning the room, searching for any other person lurking around.

“Be cool man, we don't want any problems.” Hector says with a shaky voice.

But the man that spoke before, along with all the others, points their guns at Hector and I'm in total confusion at what's happening.

“You already have problems by trying to marry her.” Another one of the men says. This one is younger, around my age. He’s tanned with wild green eyes, clean shaven handsome face, and has a strong accent that I’m sure is not from here.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” I yell, my voice a mix of fear and anger, as my eyes dart to Hector, whose face is a mask of shock and fear.

He clearly doesn’t know what’s happening, so why are these men aiming their guns at him?

“Get out of here! You can't just barge in here like this, we're getting married!” I yell again, because this is getting ridiculous.

From behind the group of men, another figure emerges, except this one is taller and more imposing. His eyes, a piercing shade of light chocolate brown, search the room, as if searching for any threats. But when they land on me, my breath gets caught in my throat. Holy baloney. He’s handsome, scratch that, he’s fucking hot. Hot in a way that doesn't seem possible, like a sculpture that was made by the Gods themselves and has come to life.

But his beauty is stained by the coldness that pours out from him, the power that rolls off his shoulders in palpable waves. His presence is like a dark cloud that has swooped in to cast a shadow over my special day. And I stare at him, trying to find any shred of humanity in those eyes, but all I find is power and control.

This is bad, so fucking bad. My body seems to freeze, and I can feel my pulse hammering in my ears as we continue to stare at each other. Who the fuck this man? What does he want with us?

“This wedding will not take place. Not today, and not ever.” The new stranger says with a commanding voice, and a strange, dark fascination swirls in his gaze, like whatever is coming next, he will enjoy.

“Move away from her if you really value your life.” He tells Hector.

“The fuck I will, she's about to be my wife.” Hector growls, and I swallow.

The stranger's eyes move from me to Hector, his hold on his gun tightening. “Repeat that one more time boy.”

I grab Hector's hand, as if to tell him not to provoke him, to deescalate the situation. But Hector yanks his hand away from mine and straightens his posture even more. “She's about to be MY. WIFE.”

The stranger turns to me and gives me a smirk that sends chills through my whole body, then turns to Hector and shakes his head with a sinister smile on his lips. “Wrong answer.”

Suddenly, the handsome stranger’s gun moves with the fluidity of a dancer, and the sound of the shot rings out, deafening in the enclosed space. The bullet makes contact with Hector’s forehead and a loud gasp leaves my lips as I’m painted red by the splash of his blood.

Hector's eyes roll back in his head, and with a thud that seems to shake the very foundations of the chapel, he falls down to the floor beside me. My legs try to give way, but I remain upright, held in place by the sheer disbelief of what just happened.

“Much better.” The stranger says with a smirk.

“What do we do with the Priest, Boss?” The first guy asks the handsome stranger.

Before I can even look up, before I can even scream or beg or do anything at all, another shot rings and the Priest scrambles to the floor as well.

“He was fucking innocent Fynn!” The first guy turns to the young one.

“No one is truly innocent. What assures us that he was even a real Priest?” Fynn says as he pockets his gun.

Tears fall down my cheeks, as I feel like time has frozen, trapping me in a nightmare where the love of my life lays lifeless on the cold stone beneath my feet.

“I-I…..” I try to speak, but no words form in my mouth. And even through my tears, I can see how the stranger begins to advance towards me, his footsteps deliberate and unyielding.

I raise my gaze, my eyes becoming hard as I take a step back, then another.

“Stay the fuck away from me!” I yell through trembling lips, taking another step backward for each step he takes forward.

The world around me narrows to just him and the gun still in his hand. I can feel my heart racing, my palms sweaty, and the cold marble of the altar table against my back as it stops my steps.

“I have no intention of harming you. But you will come with me.” He says with a menacing voice.

“You're out of your damn mind. I'm not going anywhere with you. I'll fucking scream my head off so everyone can hear me.” I threaten. The strength in it is a lie, he knows it and I know it, but I’ll be damned if I show any weakness now.

With one last step, he’s right in front of me. He’s so close that I can see the flecks of gold in his light brown eyes, and feel the heat radiating from his body.

“There's no need for that. You'll come willingly, or…” Before he can finish his sentence, a sudden, blinding pain explodes in the back of my skull.

The room spins, and as my knees buckle, the last thing my eyes see is the handsome devil’s face that took everything from me.

Andrei's POV.

I grab Layla's body before it hits the floor, scoop her up and bring her close to my chest, then turn to my brother. “Touch her again and I will forget you're my fucking brother.”

“Fine! Jesus, it was just a little blow to the head, or would you rather have her screaming all the way to the Jet?” He answers, throwing his hands in the air.

I give him a hard glare because in a way he’s fucking right. She would most definitely do that after what I did. I bark orders to my men in Russian so they can clean the mess we have made, before I start heading out to the car waiting for us with Layla in arms.

Once in the car, I lay Layla down in the back seat and sit next to her, making sure her head rests on my lap. I have done it. I finally have her with me.

This is not the way I wanted her to first meet me, not the way I wanted to leave an impression on her, but I couldn’t let that Bastard marry her. This is not the first time I have seen her either. I have been in the States watching her every step for a few days now. I found her thanks to my friends Luca, Gino and their sons, who helped me track her down. But I stayed in the shadows until the right moment. Until today.

To say I was surprised to see how gorgeous she is can be an understatement. I hadn't seen a photo of her, only the documents that Luca sent me-her birth certificate, and some documents left behind by her parents before dying. Which confirmed who she was.

You see, the Venturi's and Riggi's friendship runs deep, a bond forged over many generations. Our parents, wanting to continue that friendship, made a pact to unite our families before Layla even drew her first breath. Sick, I know. But that’s how arranged marriages work in our families. Promising their unborn children as soon as they know what they’re having.

Her parents moved to the States when Layla’s mom was about halfway through her pregnancy, hoping to secure the baby a US citizenship. They wanted to provide her with the best of both worlds—The connections and power from Russia and the opportunities available in America. Their hopes were to move back when Layla was finished with College, so she could marry me and we both would take the reins of both Family’s businesses.

But tragedy struck when Layla was only 5, her parents died in a car crash, and in the chaos that followed, my father lost all trace of the child. And the arrangement that was supposed to bind our families fell apart, and as the years passed, memories of her faded. But the promise of that union and what came with it, never left my mind.

As I gaze down at Layla, a mixture of emotions stirs within me, and with them this need to protect her. Her pink hair spills over my lap, and strands of hair frame her delicate face. I can’t help but feel a connection that goes beyond our arranged union. Strange, I know. But she looks peaceful, undisturbed by the chaos of our worlds, and I wonder what dreams or nightmares she might be having right now. Maybe she’s dreaming of chopping my head off for what I did to her.

As the car continues to take us to the private airport where my Jet awaits, I reach down, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face. My heart races slightly—a flicker of doubt dancing in the shadows of my untamed heart. Will I treat her fairly?

This life I’ll be giving her, isn’t a fairy tale one. It will be a gilded cage. I remind myself that this is a business arrangement, that my primary concern should be the power I will gain. But the way she sleeps, the serene expression on her face, makes me question my motives. Perhaps it’s foolish to think I could just use her for my gain without any emotional repercussions.

What if I grow to care for her? What if she surprises me in ways I never anticipated? I shake my head, trying to push the thoughts away. Ambition has always been my guiding star. The plans I’ve laid down can’t be compromised by fleeting feelings.

In these few days I have learned everything about her, every school she went to, every foster house she was placed in, every College rejection, every good deed she has done. As well as it was really easy to find out what that Bastard of a boyfriend had done behind her back. That alone made me enjoy killing him.

Seeing the way she looked at him, the way she smiled and laughed and kissed him in these past few days, made me feel a pang of jealousy I never felt before, it stirred the beast inside me. And him saying she was going to be his Wife was the last word I was going to allow him to say. He was lucky I gave him time to humor me.

I had never felt like this before, obsessing over a woman, especially one I have just seen a couple of times. But the thing is, Layla is not just any woman, she's my fiance. She will become my wife. And that alone, makes any other indifferent to me.

We get to the Private Airport and I make sure to put ropes around Layla's hands and feet before boarding. Because the last thing I want is for her to be jumping off the Jet just to get away from me.

Once inside, I sit her in the seat right in front of mine. And as my brother enters a couple of minutes later and sits beside me, he gives me that same look he gets when doesn't approve of something. “Look bro, I know we want those territories her family has owned for generations now that new people have entered the game, but I just know she will cause us trouble.”

As I turn my gaze to Layla, I sigh loudly because my brother is right- she’s a spicy little thing, full of fire and passion that seems ready to tear anyone who crosses her. Just with the little interaction we had, I could see the intensity in those dark eyes of hers, a glint of determination that not many women possess.

“I know Fynn. But she will be my trouble. Don't worry, I'll tame her.”

Fynn laughs, not one of those laughs when someone jokes about something, No, is one of those obnoxious ones that you want to shoot someone so you can never hear it again. “Are you sure about that? Because from what I saw, she has a pretty big mouth for how little she is.”

“I fucking hope she doesn't, I really don't want her to see the worst of me.” I say with a sigh and he shakes his head, knowing that I’m way over my head with this one.

A few hours later…

A few hours have passed since we boarded the private jet, and in that same amount of time, Layla has remained unconscious. I have been keeping a close eye on her, making sure she’s comfortable and secure in her restraints. But as Layla starts to stir awake, I take a deep breath, knowing full well that she will be less than happy when she sees where she is, and with who.

Her eyes dart around, confusion evident in her gaze as she takes in her new surroundings. Then panic sets in as she realizes her hands and legs are tightly bound. And I watch as fear clouds her eyes, yet I stay exactly where I am. Layla's eyes finally meet mine, and I see the spark of realization flicker in her eyes, as well as anger bubbling to the surface, as she glares at me with pure hatred.

“Y-You two assholes kidnapped me?” She gasps.

“Good evening Layla, so nice of you to finally join us.” I say calmly, leaning back against my seat, my arms crossed.

“What the fuck is going on?” She snarls, struggling against her bonds. They are tight, but not painfully so, just enough to keep her from doing anything stupid.

“Well, you could say you're in a bit of a pickle.” Fynn chimes in.

Her eyes narrow, trying to focus on me. “What did you do to me?”

“You're fine.” I assure her. “I had to tie you up to keep you... cooperative.”

Fynn chuckles at that. “Yeah, you're welcome.”

Her gaze swings to me again. “Where the hell am I?”

“You're safe, that’s all you need to know for now.” I assure her again.

“Well, as safe as you can be with us.” Fynn adds with a wiggle on his eyebrows, which makes her eyes dart between my brother and I, confusion and fear swirling in their depths.

“Who the hell are you people? Why did you kill my fiance? Are you going to kill me too? Is that why you kidnapped me?” She demands, her voice and my annoyance rising with each question.

I sigh, and rub my temples. “Look Layla, you need to stop asking so many questions you won’t get the answers to right now. Just know that I’m not going to hurt you.”

Fynn leans in, his grin widening. What is he going to say now? “Well, what he just said is debatable. You really haven’t seen him furious yet…..or horny.”

I shoot him a look, and he shrugs before going back to his grin. “Believe me when I say, I’ll never hurt you if you don’t give me a reason to.”

Layla's eyes search mine, looking for some sign of a lie, some hint of deception. But she finds none. I have no reason to lie to her. “What do you want from me?”

“It's complicated. But I promise that I’ll explain when we get to our destination.”

Her expression morphs from fear to fury in the span of a heartbeat. “I'm not going anywhere with you! Let me out of this damn plane!”

Fynn chuckles again, which is irritating me, I much prefer him being quiet or moody. “Technically, he can’t even if he really wanted to. We are almost home.”

“What? No! Let me go, you assholes!” She gasps, eyes widen at she turns from Fynn to me.

“You know what bro? I take back what I said earlier, it will be so entertaining watching you try to tame her.” Fynn chuckles, leaning back on his chair.

I groan in annoyance, and the fury in Layla's eyes grows as she looks at me, a molten ball of rage threatening to consume her whole.

“You two are insane! Help! Someone help me!” She shouts at the top of her lungs, which makes my brother chuckle as he grabs a magazine and starts to flip through it.

“No one is going to help you, Layla. The sooner you get that through your head, the sooner you will start to accept your new reality.” I walk over, grab one of the cloth napkins from the seat pocket, and lean down. “Now calm the fuck down before I do something I may regret later.”

Seeing my intention with the napkin, her response is to spit and struggle, trying to bite my hand. And I can't help but smile. Feisty. Just how I liked them. I hold her jaw firmly, forcing her mouth to open wide. Her eyes narrow in anger as I insert the napkin and tie it around her head, her cheeks reddening with the effort of her silent protest When I’m done, I pat her cheek gently. “There we go……Comfortable?”

She screams into the gag, the fabric stretching over her teeth. I can't blame her really, anyone in her position would be mad as hell too. But she needs to understand that fighting is pointless. She’s mine now, and I always keep what’s mine.

Layla's POV.

I have been tied up and gagged for what seems to be days, my body feels tired after hours in this Jet, but I don't dare close my eyes. Who knows what these people will do to me if I fall asleep.

After a few more hours, I get pulled inside a Limo and one thing it's very clear to me. I'm not in the States anymore. As soon as I stepped out of the plane, the first thing I noticed was the sudden climate change. Snow instead of hot summer weather. And there’s also the fact that they started speaking to the men waiting for us in a language I couldn't understand.

Where the fuck am I?

What seems to be half an hour later, we pull up to a beautiful mansion. The sprawling estate is covered in a blanket of white snow, making it look like something out of a winter wonderland. Or a Halloween nightmare if these two live in it.

Before I can fully take in the beauty of my surroundings, the tallest of the two brothers hoists me over his shoulder as if I’m a sack of potatoes and begins striding towards the mansion’s entrance…..What a fucking brute!

The fabric of his jacket is rough against my cheek, and the smell of his cologne fills my nostrils, making me wish he would just put me down already.

“Welcome home Layla.” His voice bounces off the high ceilings of what looks like the living room, as he tosses me onto the couch.

It’s surprisingly comfortable, which only makes the situation more unsettling. He towers over me, his hand reaching for the cloth in my mouth.

“I'm going to remove this.” He warns, his tone low and menacing. “But don't try anything, this house is in the middle of nowhere and is filled with my men.”

I nod frantically, the thought of feeling my jaw again brings comfort to me. He gently pulls the cloth out, and I gulp in a deep breath, tasting my own saliva.

“Good girl.” He kneels in front of me next, and I can't help but flinch as he begins untying the ropes that bound my wrists.

“Easy now.” He says in a low purr, his voice soothing, almost comforting. “I told you I won’t harm you.”

But as the rope falls to the floor, I know that’s the furthest thing from the truth. He brought me here without my consent. He killed my fiance.

And he wants me to believe that he won’t harm me? He probably wants to harvest my organs or something. Or worse. He will probably sell me to the highest bidder.

“Is this the girl?” A voice calls out from the other end of the living room. I turn my head to see that it’s a young woman, around my age, with long brown hair tied up in a ponytail and piercing brown eyes. Her skin is white as snow, and I can’t help but stare at her. She’s beautiful.

The stranger nods at her, and she walks closer, her gaze flicking over me with a mix of curiosity and something I can't quite place.

“You both had her in her bloody dress all this time?” Her voice is filled with a strange mix of concern and accusation.

The stranger still kneeling in front of me, lets out a sigh. “What did you want me to do, Nadia? Stop at a shopping center to get her what she needed?”

Nadia's expression softens as she looks back at me. “She must be freezing to death in that Andrei!”

Ahhhh….So his name is Andrei.

“She should be thankful she’s not naked. I think Andrei would have preferred that option better.” The other brother strolls in with a grin, and wraps his arms around the girl-Nadia, before claiming her mouth with a hunger that has my eyes glued to them.

Nadia leans back and blushes at Fynn, before she turns to look at Andrei. “Did you tell her?”

Andrei finishes untying my feet, gets up and walks over to where his brother and Nadia are standing, no doubt not wanting to hear what he has to say. As if I wanted to anyway. My mind is pretty occupied at the moment with the urge to run, to escape this terrifying place, who gives a shit if they’re talking about me.

As the three of them get busy talking about me as if I’m not even here, I take the opportunity to slowly push myself up off the couch. My muscles protest after being tied up for so long, but I force myself to ignore the pain as every single fiber in me tells me to run. Fuck this!

I bolt towards the nearest open door, desperation fueling my every step. I don't know where that door leads, I don’t fucking care, anywhere is fucking better than here.

“ Дерьмо (shit)” Andrei shouts something in his native language, which even if I knew what it meant, it wouldn’t make me stop.

The cold air hits me like a slap in the face as I stumble out into the night, as well as the snow crunches under my bare feet, sending bolts of pain up my legs. I grit my teeth as the cold seeps into my very bones, but I keep running, the adrenaline pushing me forward despite the agony. Behind me, I hear a shout, and then the thud of boots on the snow. Fuck, he’s coming for me. I run faster, my breath coming in fast, my chest burning with each inhale and exhale.

“Layla, stop running!” He yells from far behind me.

But I don't dare to look back, I don’t want to see how close he’s getting, but for the sound of his voice, he’s fucking close. I need to run faster, damn it.

The crunching grows louder, and suddenly, a hand grabs me around the waist, and pulls me back against their hard chest. “Let me go!”

I swing around, bringing my elbow back with all my strength, and feel a satisfying thud as it connects with something solid. A second later, a grunt of pain comes out of him, and the grip on me loosen. But before I can get away, his hands are on me again, grabbing me by my thighs and this time, I go down hard, the snow stinging my skin.

I get one of my legs free, and bring the heel of my foot back, connecting it to his chest. “Get off me!”

I scratch his cheek, but Andrei swiftly catches my hands in one of his, and pins my wrists above my head in the snow.

“Fucking stop!” His furious eyes lock onto mine, and I feel a jolt of fear. I kick and struggle, trying to break free from him, but every movement is in vain. He’s way stronger than me. “Are you trying to get fucking killed?”

“I'm trying to get away from all of you, you fucking psycho!” I yell, bucking my hips, trying to get him off me. But he just tightens his grip, his face a mask of fury.

“Why? I won't fucking harm you!” He growls.

“Just like you didn't harm my soon to be husband? You're a killer!”

With a renewed burst of strength, I arch my back and bring my head against his. He curses in pain and anger, but shakes off the blow like it's nothing. And instead of releasing me, he pushes my hands down into the snow, even harder, his full weight pressing down on me now. “He didn't fucking deserve you! You are fucking MINE Layla, the sooner you realize that the better for you.”

I struggle under him, the coldness from his gaze, from the air and the snow making me shiver like never before. But that doesn't compare with the anger I have inside for this man. He took the only thing I cared about, the only thing had left in this world.

“I hate you! I will always hate you.” I yell, as new tears stream down my cheeks.

“Hate me all you want, my little trouble. You will have a lifetime at my side to do so.” He says, as he lowers his lips to my forehead.

To be Continued…