Chapter 10: Ariel Is Kidnapped

The rain came down harder, cold needles piercing my skin as I knelt on the pavement, clutching the last of my clothes in a bag. My books, shoes, even a framed photo of my mother. all scattered in the mud outside the estate gate. My landlord’s men had shoved them out like trash, and the laughter of Ethan and Lily still echoed in my ears, long after they had disappeared.

I wanted to scream. To break. To vanish into the night. But all I could do was hold myself, trembling in the storm, praying this wasn’t real.

“Get up, Aria,” I muttered to myself, trying to sound strong, though my voice cracked. “You can’t stay here.”

But then I thought of Ann, my only neighbour friend left. With desperation, I pushed the dial button.

I dialled her number with shaking hands. It rang and rang. Before she Finally picked up.

“Ariel” her voice sounded warm and playful.

“Ann,” I choked out, “please, I need a place tonight. Just tonight. They, they threw me out. Everything’s gone.”

Ann said, "yeah sure why not, you are always welcome here." But then I heard a man's voice in the background.

"What do you mean she is welcome?, no that skinny girl is not stepping her foot in my house."

Ann protested, "I also own this house and Ariel is my friend, what do you mean she can't come here."

She is homeless I'm the only friend she have left after Lilly betrayed her.

This caused an argument,I could hear the man's irritated voice from the phone.

A long silence. Then she finally spoke.

“Aria,” she whispered, “I, I can’t. He doesn’t want anyone staying. He said no.”

I told her not to worry and hung up the phone. I didn't even let her finish, I couldn't cause trouble for her.

I stood in the rain frustrated and depressed. Tears burned hot against the cold. Even Ann could not help me, I'm truly alone.

I wrapped my arms tighter around my wet bag, whispering to myself, “You’ll survive this. You always do.”

But then I heard it—tires splashing through puddles. Headlights cut through the downpour, blinding me.

Two black SUVs pulled up, sleek and silent, too expensive to belong to anyone in this neighborhood. My heart froze. The doors opened, and men in dark suits stepped out. They weren’t ordinary men, the way they moved was too sharp, too controlled.

Panic shot through me.

One of them, tall and broad-shouldered, approached slowly, his umbrella shielding him from the storm. “Miss Blake?”

I staggered back in fear. “who are you?” I asked fear visible in my voice.

“We’re here to take you somewhere safe.” His tone was firm, not unkind, but something in his eyes made my skin crawl.

“I don’t know you, Stay away!” I clutched my bag tighter, stepping backwards.

Two more men came closer, flanking me. Their suits didn’t get wet, as if the storm dared not touch them.

I shook my head violently. “No, I’m not going anywhere with you. Get away from me!” I said firmly.

The leader sighed, as though my refusal was expected. He nodded once, and before I could scream, strong hands grabbed me from behind.

“Let me go!” I thrashed, kicking, nails clawing at the arms around me. My bag fell, its contents fall into the mud. My mother’s photo slid face-down into a puddle.

I cried harder, my voice breaking, “Please, don’t hurt me!. I'm alone in this world, I don’t know who sent you. But I swear I don't have any money to give you, please!”

I yabbed nonsense and asked questions but, non answered me

One of them simply picked me up as though I weighed nothing. My fists beat against his chest, my legs kicking uselessly, but his grip was iron.

“Stop fighting,” another said calmly. “You’ll understand soon.”

Understand keh?. My blood ran cold.

They carried me to the SUV, shoving me gently but firmly inside. The leather smelled rich and expensive, but it only made my fear worse. In my head multiple thought gathered.

"They must be Ritualist. I heard this is how they kidnap innocent girls and use them for money."

That thought made me scream. But they shut the door, sealing me in. The rain was cut off, and my heart thundered louder than any storm.

I pressed against the window. Outside, the men were already gathering my scattered belongings from the mud. They packed them neatly into the second SUV.

“Where are you taking me?!” My voice cracked, high with terror. "Please even if you use me for ritual i swear you will not get any money."

"My mother is a great Witch and she will come for you. I threatened them but all I got was silence."

The Only only sound I heard was hum of the engine as the car began to move.

I curled into the corner of the seat, trembling, watching the city lights blur past the tinted glass. Every turn, every shadow outside, felt like a step further into a nightmare.

And in the back of my mind, a single thought repeated like a drum. This is kidnapping, or worst Ritualist.

When the car finally slowed, my heart nearly burst out of my chest. We pulled into a gated property, metal gates taller than any I’d seen before. They slid open without a sound, as if the storm itself bowed to whoever lived here.

The mansion loomed ahead like something out of a dream or a nightmare. All glass and steel, glowing faintly in the night. It was the kind of place that didn’t belong to people like me.

The door opened. One of the men gestured.

“Come.”

I stayed frozen in the corner. “No.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t raise his voice.

“You won’t be harmed. But staying in the car isn’t an option.”

When I didn’t move, another man reached in and simply lifted me like a slack of potatoes. My body went rigid. “Put me down! You can’t just” I throw my legs at them. But they didn’t listen. My words were swallowed by the rain and the thunder above.

Inside, the air changed. The mansion was warm, scented faintly of cedar and something darker, sharper, like smoke after fire. They carried me down a wide hall, marble floors reflecting the chandelier light.

Finally, they opened a door and set me down in a room bigger than my entire apartment. My wet clothes clung to my skin as I spun around, panicked.

They shut the door. They Locked me inside.

I ran to the door immediately, pounding my fists against the wood.

“Let me out! You can’t keep me here!.

"Somebody help me” I shouted thinking someone could save me but only silence and my ragged breathe filled the room.

I turned, my back pressed to the door, eyes darting across the space. The king-sized bed, the velvet curtains, the tall windows. It was luxurious. Too luxurious for a Ritualist.

And then, my breath caught.

The wallpaper. The carved dresser. Even the faint smell of cedar I smelled since I came in.

Recognition slammed into me.

I know this place I have been here before.

That night.

The night I had woken in a strange bed, wrapped in warmth I didn’t understand. The night I had fled, terrified but secretly safe.

This was the same house.

My knees nearly buckled as realization hit. This is his place.

My pulse thundered as I backed toward the far wall.

Just then the door clicked. And slowly, it opened.

And there he was. The stranger that made my knee wake with his gold eyes.

He didn’t enter so much as command the room. His tall frame filled the doorway, draped in a white suit that seemed to glow against the dim lights. His dark hair was slicked back, his gold eyes burning like wildfire in shadow.

A slow smile curved his lips, the kind that made my skin prickle.

“I told them to bring you to me,” he said softly, like velvet over steel.

My body went stiff. Every instinct screamed to run, but my feet betrayed me, I stayed rooted to the spot.

He stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind him.

“Stay away from me,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

He kept walking, each step deliberate, filled with predatory move.

If I moved back. He moved forward.

I reached the wall, now I got nowhere left to go. My chest heaved as panic and something hotter, something forbidden, tangled inside me.

His hand came up, gentle but unyielding, fingers tilting my chin until I had no choice but to look into his eyes.

“Do you think a fake name could hide you from me?” His voice was low, dangerous. “Aria Morgan”

My mouth fell open. He knew. He knew my real name.

Shock froze me, but Damian didn’t wait. He closed the last inch between us, his breath hot against my lips, his eyes dark with hunger.

And when my lips parted in disbelief, he took it as an invitation to slide his tongue inside me.

His mouth crushed against mine, his tongue claiming me like fire devouring dry wood.

The world dissolved, leaving only the thunder of the storm outside, and the storm of him inside me.