His Shortcake

Chapter 45

: Read with Caution :

Tamara Ramirez

There was a calm before the storm—something I never fully understood until today.

The mansion felt different tonight, quieter, as though the air itself held its breath. Security had been lax, far less stringent than usual. I had begged Alec to ease the measures, pleading that it was just a birthday party with close friends and family. My voice had been soft, almost fragile, as I argued for normalcy in a life that had been anything but. I fought for it so persistently that he finally relented, his gaze heavy with doubt as he gave in.

Now, that decision weighed on me like a shackle around my neck.

I never imagined that a brief escape, a few moments to catch my breath after hours of forced smiles and laughter, would lead to this. The night air outside had been cool, the garden still and quiet, the soft fragrance of roses clinging to the breeze. I had only wanted solitude. Yet somehow, that walk into the night had become a descent into a nightmare.

When I woke, I was trapped in an empty, cold room. The air was damp, thick with the stench of mildew and something metallic. My hands were tightly bound behind me, the rope digging into my wrists, each movement sending jolts of pain up my arms. The cloth stuffed between my teeth was soaked in my own spit, and it scratched against my dry, cracked lips. My body felt heavy, bruised in places I couldn't yet fully feel, but the sharp, stabbing pain from my broken leg was immediate. Every breath sent fresh agony shooting through my thigh.

Not long ago, I had been a different person—wearing a sleek brick-red jumpsuit that hugged my body, the fabric soft against my skin, my black heels clicking across the floor as I moved from guest to guest. Laughter had filled the air, the sound echoing warmly in the mansion's high-ceilinged rooms. Alec, normally composed, had loosened up for once, his laughter a rare gift. There had been wine, music, the comforting hum of people who loved me.

Now that life felt distant, almost like a mirage, as I lay here, broken and abandoned in this suffocating dark.

They came fast—too fast to react.

I remember the sudden blow to the back of my head, a blunt force that sent me spiraling to the ground. The floor was unforgiving, hard and cold, and the shock of it rattled my bones. I tried to scream, but as my mouth opened, a cloth, reeking of chemicals, was shoved against my lips, smothering my voice. The air around me thickened, and then it all went black.

When I opened my eyes again, Noah was the first thing I saw. His face hovered above mine, smug and triumphant, his eyes gleaming in the dim light. There was a coldness in his gaze that I had never seen before. His smile twisted, cruel and deliberate. The room was so cold that my breath came out in ragged, foggy wisps. The chill seeped into my bones, making the pain in my leg even worse.

He didn't hesitate. His fist connected with my ribs, the sound of the impact sharp and brutal in the otherwise silent room. Pain exploded through my side, but before I could even catch my breath, his boot met my stomach with a force that ripped the air from my lungs. My body curled in on itself instinctively, blood spurting from my lips and splattering across the floor like a grotesque decoration.

"Not so tough now, are you?" His voice was low, dripping with satisfaction.

I glared at him, fury burning through the haze of pain. My eyes watered, but I refused to cry, refused to give him the satisfaction. My jaw ached as I bit down on the gag, trying to stop my own trembling. The rope bit deeper into my skin with each flex of my hands behind my back.

He laughed, the sound echoing eerily off the bare walls. "Glaring won't save you. Uncle's coming, and I'm sure you'll be even more fun for him." He leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. His breath was warm, but it sent a chill down my spine. "Just like old times, beautiful," he whispered, his voice slow and venomous, dragging out the word "beautiful" like a sickening mockery.

A surge of terror ran through me. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I stared at him, wide-eyed. Noah's uncle—that man—was the monster that haunted the darkest corners of my nightmares. The mere thought of him filled my chest with a dread so consuming, I felt like I might choke on it. Every muscle in my body tensed, instinctively trying to shrink away from the memory of his hands, his voice, the way he broke me before.

Noah's grin widened, feeding off my fear like it was some perverse fuel. "That's right. Be afraid," he hissed, punctuating his words with a hard slap to my face. The impact was sharp, my head snapping to the side, cheek stinging with heat. My vision blurred, but I refused to let the darkness swallow me again.

Suddenly, ice-cold water slammed against my body, shocking me awake. I gasped, my breath coming in ragged, shallow bursts. The cold burrowed into my skin, amplifying the pain from my raw, open wounds. The liquid dripped down my hair, mixing with the blood that already coated me, pooling on the ground. Noah stood over me, his grin even wider now, holding an empty pail in his hand.

"You have a visitor," he said, voice filled with mock glee. He stepped aside, and my heart plummeted.

A hulking figure filled the doorway, casting a long shadow over me. His face was mostly obscured by the dim light, but his eyes—those eyes—shone with a malevolent gleam that pierced right through me. "Miss me, beautiful?" he asked, crouching down to my level, his voice thick with sarcasm.

My body shook as his hand reached out to touch me. The stench of stale sweat and alcohol clung to him. I wanted to recoil, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide. His fingers brushed against my cheek, lingering too long, dragging down my skin with a touch that felt like rot. I turned my head as far as I could, but he was relentless, savoring every second of my discomfort.

"You're prettier than before," he mused, his voice sick with nostalgia. "All bruised and trembling." His hand moved in an almost loving caress, before suddenly swinging forward and slapping me again with brutal force.

I felt the sting before I even processed the hit, the sharp crack of his palm against my face ringing in my ears. His eyes glinted with sadistic pleasure as he stood, strolling over to where Noah leaned against the wall, watching with obvious enjoyment. "But you see, my nephew here has developed quite the fascination with you. Consider yourself my birthday gift to him."

The room spun, my vision swimming as I fought to stay present. I wouldn't scream. Not for him. Not for anyone. My fear was a living thing inside me, clawing at my insides, but I forced it down. My chest heaved, my breaths shallow as I focused on the pain, using it to ground myself. It was the only thing I could control.

"Why aren't you screaming?" he demanded, and before I could brace myself, his fist drove into my stomach. The pain that followed was immediate, searing, but I clenched my teeth, refusing to let a sound escape.

He scowled in frustration. "I'll just have to break you again, won't I?"

With a grunt, he yanked me up, pulling my limp body to its feet. My legs buckled, my broken one sending waves of agony through me. He only released my wrists to tie them again, this time to a metal post that dug into my back. His eyes glinted with twisted satisfaction.

"Let's add more blood to the mix," he said, his voice casual as if discussing the weather, before landing another punch. His fists were relentless, each blow meticulously calculated to break me further.

Noah joined in with brutal glee, targeting my face with vicious punches, his intent clear: to destroy me so completely that no one would ever look at me the same again.

Time lost meaning. The only clear thought I had left was that I wanted it to end. My body was beyond pain, every nerve aflame. Blood dripped down my face, soaking into the fabric of my torn clothes. My cheeks swelled, throbbing under the weight of each hit. The last thing I saw before darkness swallowed me was Noah's twisted, sadistic grin.