I was left alone in my room, Boo Boo torn at my feet, its lifeless head hanging by a few threads. My childhood companion—destroyed. Boo Boo wasn’t just a teddy bear; it was a piece of my soul. My father had given it to me when I was just a year old, and the name had spilled from my baby lips, my first words—Boo Boo. From then on, it was my solace, my partner in duet dances during my happiest days, and the silent shoulder to cry on when the world felt unbearable. Boo Boo had always been there. Until now.
Now, it was destroyed—Adam’s words echoing in my mind.
“Once you’re mine, nobody else will matter. Nobody else will exist for you. You’ll rely only on me.”
He had warned me, hadn’t he? But back then, those words didn’t feel like a warning; they felt like a promise.
The memory of that night played vividly in my mind, a night that marked a turning point in our relationship—a night of passion and possession. The celebration had been organized in my honor by my father, a man of power and precision, the owner of one of the largest architectural firms in the country. It was my moment of triumph. I had successfully completed my first independent project, designing a luxury hotel from scratch. It was more than a project; it was my dream brought to life, meticulously planned, from material selection to the grand opening. The success had earned me praise from industry titans and my father’s rare, glowing pride.
That night, the room buzzed with congratulations and admiration, but not all of it was pure. Some whispered that I couldn’t have achieved it without my father’s connections or the support of my project manager. None of them knew the truth—that the person who had truly stood by me was Adam.
Adam, my anchor during construction delays and budget overruns, the one who soothed my frustrations and inspired solutions when I felt I had none. At that time, we were in the early stages of our relationship, where his possessiveness was still tender, even endearing. His constant touch, the way he held my hand or kissed me in stolen moments, had thrilled me. His presence was intoxicating, and the way he made love—unlike anything I had experienced before—left me utterly captivated.
But that night, something shifted.
We were standing together, his hand firm on my back as I exchanged pleasantries with the guests. I noticed the tension in his jaw each time someone credited my success to others. Finally, he’d had enough. Without a word, he pulled me away from the crowd, leading me through dimly lit corridors until we were in a secluded room. The door shut behind us with a quiet click, and then I was against it, his body pressing into mine.
The room was shrouded in shadows, the faint light filtering in through the cracks under the door casting eerie streaks across the walls. My back hit the cool wood as Adam pressed me against it, his body radiating heat that seeped through the thin fabric of my dress. I opened my mouth to speak, but he silenced me, his lips finding my neck with desperate urgency.
“You have no idea,” he muttered against my skin, his voice low, almost a growl. “No idea what it does to me to see them fawning over you. To hear them diminish everything you’ve achieved, as if they had any right to you.”
“Adam,” I managed, but the sound of my name from his lips silenced any protest I could muster.
He tilted my chin up with one hand, his other sliding down to my waist, gripping me as if to anchor himself. His mouth moved along my jawline, placing kisses that grew wetter, hungrier, until he reached my ear. “You’re mine, Bella,” he whispered, his breath hot and sending a shiver down my spine. “And soon, you’ll know what that truly means.”
Before I could respond, his knee slipped between my thighs, parting them with a deliberate, commanding motion. My dress, with its high slit, fell away like an offering, leaving my leg bare for his wandering hands. His fingers slid upward, brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh, igniting a fire in their wake.
“You were made for me,” he murmured, his lips finding the hollow of my neck. “Every inch of you.”
His hand moved higher, pushing aside the delicate fabric of my underwear without hesitation. The suddenness of the motion stole my breath, and I gasped, clutching at his shoulders for balance. He chuckled darkly, his fingers dipping into me with practiced precision. The sensation was overwhelming—his touch was relentless, purposeful, driving me to the brink with each calculated stroke.
“Adam, please,” I whispered, my voice trembling as pleasure began to coil deep within me.
“Please, what?” he asked, his tone mocking but laced with desire. He pressed harder, his thumb brushing against the sensitive bundle of nerves, making me cry out softly. “Tell me what you want, Bella.”
I could barely think, my mind clouded with the sensations he was pulling from me. “I—I need—” The words wouldn’t come. All I could do was cling to him as his fingers worked me into a frenzy, his mouth trailing fire down to the swell of my breasts.
“You’re close,” he observed with a smirk, his lips brushing against the fabric of my dress before his teeth grazed my collarbone. “But not yet, Bella. Not until you say what I want to hear.”
I whimpered, my nails digging into his shoulders as he continued to torment me, his fingers curling inside me, hitting that perfect spot again and again. “Adam, please,” I begged, tears pooling in my eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. “Let me come.”
His hand slid upward, wrapping around my throat with a possessive grip—not choking, but firm enough to send a delicious jolt through me. He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “Not until you repeat after me.”
I nodded frantically, willing to do anything to find release. His pace quickened, his fingers thrusting deeper, harder, while his thumb circled my clit in torturous precision. “Say it,” he demanded, his voice dark and commanding. “Say, ‘I, Isabella Thorpe…’”
“I—I, Isabella Thorpe,” I stammered, the words spilling from my lips as I teetered on the edge.
“Good girl,” he murmured, his grip on my throat tightening slightly as his lips brushed against my temple. “Now say, ‘Soon to be Isabella Black.’”
“Soon to be Isabella Black,” I repeated, my voice breaking with desperation.
“You’ll only depend on me,” he continued, his pace becoming merciless. “No one else. Not your father, not your friends. Only me.”
“Only you,” I echoed, my body trembling, barely able to hold myself up.
“And you’ll love it,” he finished, his lips pressing a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Say it.”
“I’ll love it,” I choked out, tears slipping down my cheeks as the pleasure became unbearable.
“Good,” he whispered darkly. “Now, come for me, Bella.”
The words were my undoing. My body shattered, waves of ecstasy crashing over me as I screamed his name. My legs gave out, but he held me steady, his arms wrapping around me as I trembled in his embrace. His fingers slowed, their touch now soothing as he guided me through the aftershocks, his lips brushing gentle kisses along my neck and jawline.
When I finally caught my breath, he pulled his hand away, his fingers glistening with evidence of my surrender. His eyes locked onto mine as he brought them to his mouth, licking them clean with deliberate sensuality. My heart pounded in my chest, a mixture of lingering desire and something darker—something I couldn’t name.
“You taste like you belong to me,” he said, his voice soft but deadly. “And you always will. Once you’re mine, nobody else will matter. Nobody else will exist for you. You’ll rely only on me.”
Little did I know, in that moment of surrender, I was signing my soul away to the devil himself.
The memory of that night in the dark room faded as the sound of hurried footsteps broke through my haze. Alice burst into my room, her face pale and eyes wide with terror. “Bella,” she whispered, her voice shaking, “you need to get ready. Now.”
Before I could respond, she grabbed my arm and dragged me into the bathroom, shoving me under the cold spray of the shower. “Five minutes,” she said sharply, her voice cracking as she turned away, her hands trembling. Her usual composure was nowhere to be seen, and the sight of her fear sent a chill down my spine.
When I returned to the room, dripping and disoriented, I froze. The atmosphere was suffocating. A team of makeup artists and hairstylists stood by, their hands shaking as they avoided meeting my gaze. Sitting in the corner of the room was Ryan, Adam’s right-hand man, his presence casting a dark shadow over everything.
He was relaxed, almost too much so, leaning back in his chair with an iPad resting on his knee. His sharp suit was pristine, but his predatory gaze was anything but polished. His eyes—cold, calculating—were fixed on the screen. I followed his line of sight, and my stomach dropped.
On the screen, Jack was tied to a chair in a dark, damp room. He looked battered, his face pale and drenched in sweat. Around him were several glass cages filled with scorpions, their tails arched menacingly, ready to strike. The sight made my blood run cold.
Ryan’s voice was calm, almost conversational, as he said, “Bella, you have exactly thirty minutes to get ready. After that, for every minute you delay…” He swiped the screen, zooming in on one of the cages, the scorpions' sharp pincers glinting in the light. “…one of these little friends will be released to keep Jack company. I hear their sting is particularly… unforgettable.”
I felt my knees buckle, but Alice caught me, steadying me as she whispered, “Do as they say. Just do it.” Her voice cracked on the last word, her composure hanging by a thread.
I sank into the chair, my heart pounding as the makeup artists and hairstylists began their work. Their hands trembled, brushes slipping, but they dared not make a mistake under Ryan’s watchful eyes. I glanced at Alice, who was seated in the corner, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She was rocking back and forth in her bridesmaid’s dress, her face pale as she stared at the floor.
But Ryan’s attention wasn’t on me. It was on her.
His gaze was unrelenting, dark, and disturbingly intimate. The way his eyes raked over Alice’s trembling form made my skin crawl. He wasn’t just observing her; he was consuming her, as if she were the only thing in the room that mattered.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the tense silence. He wasn’t speaking to me or anyone else in the room. His words were meant for Alice. “Even in fear, she’s perfect. That’s what I love about you, Alice—you wear your terror so exquisitely.”
Alice flinched, her rocking stopping abruptly as she pressed herself further into the corner. Ryan smiled, a slow, deliberate curve of his lips that sent a shiver down my spine.
“You know,” he continued, his tone almost tender, “I’ve been watching you for a long time. The way you move, the way you speak. Even the way you tremble—it’s… intoxicating.” He stood then, the sound of his chair scraping against the floor making everyone in the room jump. He walked toward her slowly, like a predator closing in on its prey.
Alice whimpered, her hands clutching at the fabric of her dress as if it could shield her from him. “Please,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Please, leave me alone.”
Ryan crouched in front of her, his face only inches from hers. “Oh, Alice,” he murmured, reaching out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. She recoiled, but he didn’t pull back. “You can’t hide from me. Not now, not ever. You belong to me—whether you realize it yet or not.”
Tears spilled down her cheeks, but Ryan only smiled, his fingers brushing against her jaw in a mockery of tenderness. “Don’t cry,” he whispered. “You’ll ruin your makeup. And we wouldn’t want Adam to think I haven’t been taking care of you, would we?”
He straightened, his cold gaze shifting back to me. “You’re wasting time, Bella,” he said, his tone now sharp and commanding. “Focus. Your groom is waiting, and Jack…” He glanced at the screen, his smile turning cruel. “Well, he’s running out of time.”
I swallowed hard, my hands gripping the edge of the chair as the artists worked faster, their fear palpable. Alice remained curled in the corner, her silent sobs shaking her small frame. And Ryan—he stood in the center of the room, his presence a dark reminder of the control Adam held, not just over me but over everyone I cared about.
That’s how I got ready to meet Adam at the altar—drenched in fear, wrapped in a veil of despair, and surrounded by the demons he had unleashed upon my world.
*****************************************
Plz vote and leave a comment if you liked reading it. 😅
Write a comment ...