zarawalter8

“Go away from me. Let me be, you monster!” Eira screamed, her voice echoing from behind the room she had closed herself on. Determined more than ever not to see him. She heaved, her chest rising and falling to the pain.”You took everything from me, Draven. You took everything from me!”



“Then take it back, Eira.” Draven called out possessively, “Hate me, fight me, do everything Eira, but don’t dare leave me. I won’t let you do that.”





…



Eira Katz’s world is ripped apart when she is abducted by Draven, a man blinded by grief and vengeance. Accused of murdering the only woman he ever loved—a woman carrying his child—Eira becomes the target of his rage. Held captive, she endures relentless torment, all for a crime she did not Commit.



But when the truth is revealed, the damage is already done. Draven has destroyed her life, killed the man she loved, and left her with nothing. As Eira grapples with the aftermath, she learns she is carrying his child, a bond neither of them can escape.i

Trapped in a cycle of vengeance, guilt, and reluctant dependency, Eira must decide whether to escape her captor or confront the broken man who refuses to let her go. But in a world where pain and passion collide, the line between love and hatred blurs.



Will Eira find freedom, or will she be forever bound to the man who took everything called life away from her?

The Mafia's Little Plaything

The first thing I registered was the dull, rhythmic beep of a monitor somewhere close, syncing with my heartbeat.

Then came the pain,sharp, grinding, threaded through my limbs like wire. My chest felt like it had been crushed beneath concrete. My leg,useless, throbbing, wrapped in something tight. Breathing hurt. Thinking hurt. But what truly shattered me wasn't physical.

I opened my eyes to a dimly lit room. Wooden beams. A cracked mirror leaning against the wall. The hum of a generator in the distance. The scent of antiseptic mingled with faint smoke,someone had tried to mask the smell of blood. Mine.

I wasn't in a hospital. No way. I'd been in too many warzones to mistake this for anything other than a safehouse. Barely patched together, temporary, quiet enough to feel like a grave.

I turned my head,and regretted it. Fire lanced through my shoulder, and bile rose in my throat.

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