His Territory | ✔️

32

- Lucia

A throbbing pain pulses through my head, a relentless beat that intensifies with each passing second. My eyes remain stubbornly closed, weighed down by an exhaustion that blankets my senses. I attempt to lift my hand to rub away the ache, but a cold metal clinking stops me.

I force my eyes open, and the room slowly comes into focus. It's dimly lit, with only a single lamp casting a muted glow over the shadows. I see him then—Adrián—sitting in the corner, his gaze heavy and unreadable. Dark circles hang beneath his eyes, making him look as if he hasn't slept in days. I yank at my wrist again, desperate for some freedom, but the cuff bites into my skin.

"It's not going to come loose," he murmurs, almost as if reading my mind. He watches my struggle for a moment before standing and crossing the room. The creaks of his bones echo in the silence, making my heart pound even harder. I instinctively pull my legs close, but he reaches down, gently placing my ankles back in his lap. His touch is disconcertingly tender, and I can feel my body tense under his hand.

He sighs, his eyes narrowing as they meet mine. "I want to trust you, mía, I really do." His voice is low, tinged with a softness that feels out of place. "I want to trust you the way I trust my own breath." His eyes search mine, but I remain still, unreadable. He sighs again, shifting slightly closer to me on the bed.

"Here's your chance to come clean. Tell me the truth, and I'll let you go." His tone is deceptively gentle, almost luring.

I nod, tears welling in my eyes. "I..." My voice cracks, barely more than a whisper. He raises a finger and disappears briefly, returning with a water bottle. He unscrews the cap, bringing it carefully to my lips. The cold water is a relief, and I take small, slow sips, regaining just enough strength to speak.

"I did go in there for a pen and paper, like I said," I whisper, eyes downcast. "But I saw my phone. I just... I just wanted to see if my mom had texted me." My voice trails off, and the memories of her, long lost to me, bring a tear to my cheek.

"Baby, don't cry," Adrián says softly, and for a brief moment, his face twists with something resembling remorse. He reaches over, unlocking the cuff around my wrist. The moment I'm free, I bring my hand to my other wrist, rubbing away the red marks.

Adrián's eyes darken, and before I realize what's happening, his hands are under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, the only way to balance myself, and he grunts softly, almost animalistic. A chill runs through me, but I fight to stay calm, focusing on the sensations around me instead of the storm brewing in his gaze.

"You're mine, mía[mine / my girl]," he whispers as he backs us into the wall. His lips press against mine, forceful and suffocating, leaving me dizzy. I respond hesitantly, my body betraying me in the briefest of moments. His lips leave mine, and he watches me with a twisted smirk.

"You've never reacted like this before. I knew you loved me," he breathes, his hand brushing over my cheek before he carries me back to the bed, caging me beneath him. I remain frozen, overwhelmed by the intensity of his presence. His weight presses down on me, grounding me in place.

His lips find mine again, demanding and relentless, and I brace myself, hoping to regain some control, even if just in my own mind. But his hand tangles roughly into my hair, pulling until I feel the sharp sting at my scalp.

He pulls back suddenly, his expression shifting, hardening. "Did you think I didn't know about your little message? Do you think I'm stupid?" He spits, his voice rising.

I shake my head, but the words stick in my throat.

He slaps me, the sharp sting radiating through my cheek, and then his hand is back on my throat, fingers tightening until I can barely draw breath.