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 safehouse was cold, even with the power running. Wind hissed through cracks in the boarded-up windows, and the floorboards groaned like they resented every step we took. The place reeked of mold, iron, and old rot,but it was the only building outside Snow's surveillance perimeter for ten miles. We had no choice.

I'd triple-checked every exit, placed motion detectors along the back walls, and locked down the weapons cache beneath the floorboards of the kitchen. It wasn't enough to make me feel safe.

Because it wasn't the threat outside that worried me most.

It was the one building between us.

I stood at the stove, reheating old rations,something canned and probably expired. It hissed in the pan like it was alive. Eira sat across from me at the rickety dining table, trying not to flinch every time the wind blew too hard. She was pale, tired. Her fingers curled around a chipped mug of instant tea like it was a lifeline.

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