𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑 ✓ | 18+

Chapter Thirty-Five

Isabella

My heart pounded as Oliver walked away, his broad shoulders and confident stride vanishing through the door. The lingering taste of him on my lips was a tantalizing reminder of what had just happened. I stood there, shirtless and bewildered, the rush of our heated encounter still coursing through my veins. This wasn't the first time Oliver had left me feeling bewildered. I gave him chance after chance, each time hoping things would change. Yet, he still walked away as if I meant nothing to him. Then came his pitiful apologies, and like a fool, I cried. In my foolishness, I excused his actions and kissed him, betraying my own heart once more.

I hated him.

And yet, I craved him.

I sighed, pulling my shirt over my head, my mind racing. The way he made me feel was intoxicating. I knew I had to get out of here, clear my head, and figure out what I really wanted. Oliver was magnetic.

"You're nothing but a weak little girl, crying over her dead mommy." his words echoed through my mind.

I glanced around his lavish apartment, feeling a pang of jealousy and resentment. He held me captive in his luxurious world for days, stripping away my freedom and autonomy. How can he live like this while I've struggled my entire life? My mind drifted back to my mother, her tired eyes and loving smile. She worked so hard, sacrificing everything for me, and yet we never had anything close to this.

"I know all about your pathetic little life, your deadbeat father, your worthless existence."

I shook my head, pushing those thoughts away. I needed to focus. I needed to leave.

"I hate you for making me feel this way."

How did I let myself get to this point? I quickly gathered my thoughts, my determination hardening like steel. I had to escape before Oliver returned. My eyes darted around the opulent room, searching for any sign of a way out. The windows were sealed tight, and the door was the only viable option.

"You make me feel things I shouldn't feel."

Taking a deep breath, I tiptoed towards the door, my heart racing. My fingers wrapped around the cool doorknob, and I turned it slowly, praying it wouldn't make a sound. Luck was on my side as the door clicked open silently.

I slipped through the narrow gap and found myself in the hallway.Oliver never wanted me for who I truly am. He used me, played with my emotions, and tortured me, turning my life into a living hell. All his cruelty was justified in his mind because his mother died, because he had a hard life. But none of that excuses the pain he caused me.

The hallway stretched endlessly before me, lined with doors that led to other luxurious apartments, other lives untouched by the turmoil I'd endured. I pressed on, navigating through the maze of corridors, avoiding the elevator and opting instead for the stairs. Each step brought me closer to the ground floor, closer to the possibility of escape.The cool air greeted me like a friend as I pushed through the heavy door leading outside. I took a moment to breathe it in, relishing the sensation of being outside, away from the suffocating luxury that had become my cage. My thoughts raced ahead to Emily.

. . .

I stumbled up the worn steps to my apartment, exhaustion clinging to every bone in my body. My purse was nowhere to be found, and my pockets were frustratingly empty. I knocked on Emily's door, but there was no answer. Emily was usually so reliable. Where could she be? I bit my lip, trying to hold back the tears of frustration. As I reached the door, I remembered the spare key hidden under the potted plant beside it. With trembling hands, I lifted the pot and retrieved the key, feeling a small wave of relief wash over me.

"Emily?" I called again, the echo of my own voice haunting me. Tears stung my eyes as I collapsed onto the couch, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on me. Where was she? Why wasn't she here?I decided to wait in my apartment, hoping she'd turn up soon.

I paced the small living room, my mind racing. A sudden noise outside the apartment caught my attention. I stood up, my heart in my throat, I peered through the peephole, my breath hitching when I saw two men standing in the hallway. Their expressions were cold and menacing, their eyes scanning the corridor as if searching for something or someone.

Oliver must've sent them.

I backed away from the door, my mind racing. I had to hide. I had to find a way to protect myself. I needed to leave town. But I can't leave without Emily.Before I could act, the door burst open, and the two men stormed in.

I screamed, my voice echoing through the apartment. One of them grabbed me, his grip like a vice around my arm."Let go of me!" I shouted, struggling against him. But he was too strong. His companion pulled out a cloth and pressed it over my mouth and nose. The world around me began to blur, my struggles growing weaker as darkness claimed me.

. . .

When I woke up, I was in a dimly lit room, the smell of dampness and decay assaulting my senses. My hands were bound, and I could feel the rough rope digging into my skin. Panic surged through me as I realized I had been kidnapped. Again.

"Sweetheart," a voice spoke, and I turned my head to see one of the men who had taken me. He was tall and imposing, with cold, piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through me. His hair was a shocking shade of blonde, slicked back neatly, giving him an air of ruthless sophistication. Beside him stood another man, equally menacing, with dark, unruly hair and a scar running down his left cheek, a permanent reminder of past violence. Both men exuded an aura of danger, their tailored suits doing little to mask their brutal nature. "Your father sure as hell wasn't lying, you are pretty." the blonde one continued, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

"My what...?" I stammered, confusion and fear twisting in my stomach. "Wait, you're not Oliver's friends?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

"No, sweetheart, we're not whoever's friend you said," the blonde one sneered, his piercing blue eyes cold and unfeeling. "Let me cut this short for you, pretty. Your father fucked up our money. Fucking up our money fucks with our business."

"What he's trying to say, doll," the dark-haired man interjected, his voice like gravel, "is that your father offered you to us. Meaning you belong to us now."

oh god no...

"Please, I—" I tried to speak, but no words came out. I was speechless. I hadn't seen my father in years. Why would he...

"Shh, sweetheart," the blonde one said, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "We're going to have so much fun with you."He walked closer, his hand reaching out to caress my cheek. His thumb traced my lips, and in a desperate act of defiance, I bit down hard.

"You bitch!" he shouted, slapping me across the face with a force that made my head spin.

"Oh, Kyler, this one is going to be fun," the dark-haired man chuckled, his scarred face twisting with sadistic glee. Before I could react, a sharp pain exploded in my head, and I was swallowed by darkness.