Favour_Abigail

"Take her," the dangerous man orders casually, like I'm the most boring little human he's ever encountered in his life.

"I said stay the fuck away!" I yell at him this time, causing him to tilt his head in amusement.

"A little girl like you shouldn't be swearing at your elders. It's bad habit. Your daddy should have taught you better."

Hold on. My daddy. And if I heard correctly the first time, the other man had mentioned something about 'daughter' and 'grown woman'. Shit! What's going on? This must be Darius Hunter! And how do they know about my existence!? Oh no! My father! Have they taken him? Have they hurt him?

"Darius... Hunter?" I stutter in sheer terror, the dangerous man tensing as I mention his name.

"You know my name. I don't know if I should be impressed or disappointed," Darius chuckles, amusement seeping into his tone.

"Errrm... I... Where's my father...?" My demand sounds more like a plea, my voice shuddering in painful anticipation.

"Waiting for you at my place. He said we should come get you. I didn't expect you to be old enough to beat up my man. I am definitely impressed, and your value, my dear, has just gone up."
---------------------------
Allison, a confined young woman who finds solace in books and writing, is thrust into a world of danger and deceit when her father, Frank, a reformed gambler turned priest, sells her to Darius Hunter, the infamous "Devil of California," to settle an old debt. Darius tries everything possible to break Allison for his pleasure, promising himself not to touch her innocence. Yet, as Allison navigates the treacherous waters of her new life, she discovers hidden strengths, forms unexpected bonds, and unravels the dark secrets of her family’s past. Amidst turmoil and passion, Allison and Darius find themselves entangled in a powerful and transformative love story, punctuated by shocking twists and turns.

Her Master's desire

"Hey… Wake up… We need to go."

A hushed whisper pulls me from a deep, cozy sleep, my mind barely grasping at the edges of consciousness. I squint, trying to figure out who's speaking, while my head sinks back into the fluffy pillow I've grown to adore.

A groggy, nonsensical sound escapes my mouth as I try to lift my head. That's when I spot Yasmin standing over me, fully dressed in an all-black outfit—black t-shirt, black leather pants—looking like she's about to embark on some covert mission. My confusion only deepens. I shift my gaze toward the window, and, to my dismay, it's still the middle of the night. Dark as pitch.

"Why did you wake me up?" I manage to grumble, my voice scratchy, my head throbbing with the remnants of sleep.

Chapter 85