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

I watched Eira stagger into the courtyard, clothes torn, her cloak stained dark with blood. The moonlight caught the cuts across her cheek and the way she half-hobble-dragged a leg. She didn't see me hiding by the archway, arms folded, expression neutral,a mirror reflecting concern, without giving anything away.

I stepped forward, heart pounding a beat too fast. My voice was soft. "Eira… you're hurt."

She looked up at me, eyes wild, alert. She recognized danger, not me. "Kira," she started, hesitation in her breath. Then she blinked. The hard set of her jaw softened,just a fraction.

I reached out, gently,too gently,and brushed a strand of blood-smeared hair from her face. My fingertips trembled, but I kept still. "Come sit," I said quietly. "Let me see."

She winced as I guided her to the bench. Each movement slow, guarded. I kept my voice steady. "What happened?"

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