CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:CHAINS BROKEN IN BLOOD

Leon, driven by a mix of anger and determination, followed the directions I had provided. Accompanying him was Elena's guard, posing as his father. They arrived at Chris's residence and knocked firmly on the door.

Chris opened the door, his expression darkening. "Who are you, and what do you want?"

"Where is my wife?" Leon demanded, his voice edged with urgency.

A mocking laugh escaped Chris's lips as he shoved Leon back. "Wrong address. Get out of my house before I make you."

Fury ignited within Leon. He pushed past Chris, storming into the house. Chris pursued him, shouting, "I have my woman here, not your wife!"

Reaching the room where I was held, Chris yanked me forward. "This is my woman."

Leon chuckled bitterly. "She's my wife, and she's pregnant with my child."

Shock and rage contorted Chris's face. He struck Leon, sparking a violent struggle between them. Seizing the moment, I dashed outside to summon Elena's guard.

The guard entered, weapon drawn, aiming at Chris. "Release my boss, or face the consequences."

Chris reluctantly stepped back, allowing Leon to move away. As we prepared to leave, Chris lunged at the guard, wresting the gun from him and firing. The guard collapsed, lifeless.

Horror and disbelief washed over Leon. I stood, stunned by the sudden violence. Unfazed, Chris turned to Leon. "Get out. Don't ever come back."

He then dragged me back into the room, discarding the guard's body outside. Securing one of my hands and both legs to the bed, he brandished a heavy belt. Tearing my clothes, he sneered, "You thought you could outsmart me."

Through tears, I pleaded, "Let me go. I despise you."

His eyes burned with fury. "You'll pay for leaving me, marrying that fool, and carrying his child."

Sobbing, I protested, "I'm not pregnant. Let me explain."

But he was beyond reason. The belt lashed against my body—breasts, stomach, and between my legs. Agony wracked me, my cries echoing through the room.

That night, he returned, intent on violating me again.

As he lost himself in his perverse pleasure, I reached for a small knife hidden in my bag. With all my strength, I plunged it into his back. He roared in pain, and I seized the opportunity to free myself using the key in his discarded trousers.

As he writhed, I grabbed the belt, tears streaming down my face. I struck him repeatedly, sobbing, "You monster! I loved you, and I hate you. Go to hell."

His voice weakened, he murmured, "Billie... you'll regret this..."

Overcome with anguish, I retrieved the gun he had used to kill the guard and fired. His body went limp. Numb, I dragged his corpse to my car, drove to a distant river, and let the waters consume him.

As I watched the currents carry him away, a maelstrom of emotions churned within me—relief, sorrow, and the haunting realization of the darkness that had enveloped my soul.