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 blade spun over the estate map, its tip tapping rhythmically on the inked boundaries of the southern wing. I sat perfectly still, hand poised just above the paper, fingers dancing with the knife's hilt like a lover's touch. The map quivered beneath the airless tension of the room. Everything was falling into place.

The flickering surveillance footage to my left showed the alley in grainy black and white,Eira stumbling backward, blood leaking from her ribs like poetry written in crimson. Her eyes wide. Her breath short.

"She bled beautifully," I murmured, the heat from the porcelain cup warming my lips as I replayed the footage. Over. And over.

The doors opened with a hiss of air, cold and ceremonial. A masked figure stepped in and dropped to one knee.

"They suspect nothing, Mistress," he intoned, voice muffled behind the iron mask he'd sworn to wear until my will was done.

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