"Found you, ptichka," he whispered. "Now it's time to play."
For the first time, his eyes focused and not wavering, and I realised he was not blind. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, making the fear pound even harder in my chest.
This… this couldn't be possible. How could it be...
My lips parted as I looked at him in utter disbelief and startling shock. "This-"
His blade pressed against my neck harder and I winced taking in a shuddering breath.
His eyes whirled in darkness, like a storm ready to strike me.
"You make any sound," he warned in a low menacing growl, "I have plenty of ways to shut you up."
I swallowed as he pressed the blade deeper, and I winced at the sting. He was towering over me, his body looming like a dark, menacing shadow. His knees were pinning my legs down, and his free hand gripped my wrist, holding it painfully against the floor.
I looked around, hoping someone would walk in on us, praying for any sign of help. But the lot was silent and empty, the only sound the ragged breaths escaping my lips. The fact that he could see... for hell's sake. He could see. I recalled all the times I had embarrassed myself in front of him, how I pitied him for his supposed blindness.
Well, screw him.
Anger bubbled up inside me, mingling with the fear. I clenched my jaw, glaring at him through the tears that spilt down my cheeks.
Do not cry, Sera, I told myself fiercely. This bastard doesn't deserve your tears or any of your emotions.
His grin widened as he saw the defiance in my eyes, and he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "There it is," he murmured. "That fire. I like it. Let's see how long it lasts."
I thrashed against him, my body twisting and turning in a desperate attempt to free myself. "Let go of me, you bastard!" I screamed, my voice raw with fury and fear. But he only laughed, a dark, mocking sound that sent chills down my spine.
He was so much bigger, so much stronger. It was laughable, the difference between us. His muscles bulged under his shirt as he effortlessly flipped me onto my stomach, pinning me down with his weight. My hands and knees scraped against the cement floor, the rough surface tearing at my skin. I cried harder, the pain mixing with my helpless rage.
"Keep fighting," he taunted, his voice a sinister whisper in my ear. "It's more fun that way."
I screamed and swore. But he didn't care.
He was a predator, and I was his prey.
His grip tightened, and he pressed the blade harder against my throat, drawing more blood.
"You're mine now," He muttered as if he was discussing the weather and my neck strained. "And there's nothing you can do to change that."
The awareness hit me like a sledgehammer, and my struggles grew weaker, the fight draining out of me. Tears streamed down my face, but I refused to let him see me break.
"You're a monster," I spat with a trembling voice of fear and hatred.
He chuckled, and I felt him lean down, nuzzling his face into my neck and biting the skin in the process. The pain mixed with the unwanted intimacy made me shudder.
"And you're mine," he replied, a twisted smile playing on his lips. "Now and forever."
My anger flared again, hot and fierce. I gritted my teeth, refusing to give in completely. He pulled his weight off me and then yanked me up with him, his touch wild and rough. His hands roamed freely over my body, his fingers pressing into my skin with a cruel familiarity. There was a wild gleam in his eyes, and his gaze was more piercing now that I knew he was not blind. I swallowed hard, feeling the full weight of his predatory stare.
"Be a good little girl," he warned. He looked as dishevelled as me, but unlike me, he enjoyed this chaos.
I tried to pull the same move I had earlier, raising my knee to strike him. But this time, he saw it coming from a mile away. He slammed me back onto the hood of the truck, his face contorted with anger.
"The first time was a success because I was busy fucking your mouth with my tongue," he snarled, his grip tightening painfully. "Raise your knee again, and I'll chop off your legs."
His words sent a new wave of terror through me, but I refused to let him see my fear. Instead, I glared at him, my hatred burning in my eyes. He leaned in close, his breath hot against my face.
"You think you can defy me?" he whispered, his tone mocking. "You think you have any control here?"
I spat at him, my defiance unwavering. "You're nothing but a sadistic bastard. You'll never own me."
His smile widened, and he wiped the spit from his face with a slow, deliberate motion. "Oh, ptichka," he said softly, almost tenderly. "You have no idea how much I enjoy playing with you."
He pressed his body against mine, his hands roaming with brutally. His touch was invasive, each movement designed to remind me of his control. But even as he violated my body, I held onto my anger, my hatred. It was the only weapon I had left.
"You'll never break me," I whispered, my voice steady despite the fear.
His eyes gleamed with amusement. "We'll see about that," he murmured, his lips brushing against mine. "We'll see."
His grin turned feral as he leaned in, his lips crashing against mine with a fierce, brutal intensity. I shut my eyes. The kiss became violent. His hands roughly grabbed both of my wrists, pinning them above my head with a force that made me whimper in pain. His knee drove between my legs, preventing me from driving my knee into his worthless jewels again. I hated him with every fibre of my being.
I kept my mouth shut, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. But the demon of a man bit my lips hard enough to draw blood, the metallic taste mixing with my emotions.
"Open up, ptichka," he growled, his voice a dangerous whisper. "You don't get to ignore me."
I glared at him hoping he could see defiance burning in my eyes. His response was a dark, twisted laugh that echoed in the empty lot. His face was inches from mine, and I could see every detail of his unhinged expression. He was undeniably handsome, with sharp features and piercing blue eyes that seemed to see straight through me. His dark hair was tousled, giving him a rugged, almost dangerous charm. But all he was. A superficially beautiful man and nothing more. He was as ugly underneath.
"Look at you," he murmured, his lips brushing against mine as he spoke. "So full of spirit. So beautiful when you're angry."
His eyes roved over my face, a predatory gleam dancing within their depths. "You think you can resist me? You think you have any control here?"
My rage boiled over, and before I could think, I spat in his face. "You're a sadistic bastard. You'll never own me."
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut, my eyes widening in horror. Every muscle in my body tensed as I took in his expression, the cruel amusement in his eyes, the way his smile twisted just a fraction more sinister. But what scared me the most was the unhinged glint in his eyes, a madness that promised nothing but torment and despair. It was a look that spoke of a man who revelled in pain, who found pleasure in the destruction of others.
He paused, the spit sliding slowly down his cheek. His expression remained eerily calm, but his eyes held a dangerous glint, a twisted amusement that sent chills down my spine. With a slow, deliberate motion, he wiped his face, his smile never wavering. It was a smile devoid of warmth, cold and calculating, like a predator toying with its prey.
"Oh, ptichka," he said softly, his voice dripping with a mock tenderness that made my skin crawl. "You have no idea how much I enjoy breaking you."
His hands tightened around my wrists, the pressure making me wince. "You can fight all you want," he continued and tilted his head. "And I'll fucking destroy you."
I struggled against him. But he was too strong, too determined. His body pressed against mine, his knee keeping me pinned in place. His breath was hot against my skin, a constant reminder of his control.
"Do you feel that?" he whispered, his lips brushing against my ear. "Do you feel how powerless you are?"
I shivered, but I refused to let him see my fear. "You're nothing," I muttered.
His eyes darkened, and he leaned in closer, his lips a mere breath away from mine. "I am everything," he whispered, his voice a dangerous hiss.
He kissed me again, this time more forcefully and roughly as if he wanted to suck in every ounce of oxygen off my lungs and leave me panting.
His hands moved like a dark dance of inevitability, effortlessly undoing the tie around his neck. The fluidity of his movements was almost mesmerizing, and I hesitated, confusion flickering in my eyes like a candle's last flicker before the darkness. My mouth parted though I had nothing to say.
Before I could react, he had both of my wrists clasped together.
"What are you doing?!" I thrashed, trying to free myself, but his grip was iron. The tie wound around my wrists, binding them tightly together. I struggled against the restraint, my body writhing in desperation, but he only tightened the knot.
"Let me go!" I shouted, and twisted my wrists, trying to slip out of the tie, but his hold was unyielding.
His face hovered close to mine, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my skin crawl. "Fight all you want," he murmured, his voice a low, menacing whisper. "Like I said, it only makes this more enjoyable."
I kicked and pushed, using every ounce of strength to resist, but he remained unmoved. His body pressed harder against mine, his knee digging into my thigh, keeping me immobilized. My breaths came in short, panicked gasps, my heart pounding in my chest.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against my ear once more. "Feel that?" he whispered, his voice a sinister caress. "That's called losing."
Rage boiled inside me, fueling my futile struggle. Fear wrapped around my heart, squeezing tighter with each second. Tears threatened to spill, but I blinked them back, refusing to show my vulnerability.
I felt helpless, the weight of his control crushing me. A voice inside me screamed to keep fighting, to not give in, but another part whispered that it was hopeless. I tried to focus, to find a way out, but all I could feel was his overpowering presence. My earlier defiance echoed hollowly in my mind. Could I really believe I would escape this?
Tears of frustration and helplessness welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them away, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "You won't win," I spat, wishing to spit on his face again but refrained at the crazy look in his eyes.
His smile widened, his eyes gleaming with a dark triumph. "Oh, ptichka," he murmured, his voice dripping with twisted affection. "I already have."
As he bent down, I saw my chance and tried to make a run for it. My heart raced as I darted away, hope flickering briefly within me. But before I could get far, his hand shot out and gripped my hair, yanking me back with a fierce tug. My scalp burned with pain, tears springing to my eyes from the sudden, sharp agony.
He easily hoisted me up, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. My body dangled in his grasp, blood rushing to my head as he threw me over his shoulder. Dizziness washed over me, my vision blurring and my stomach churning from the sudden inversion. My head pounded, and I felt lightheaded, and disoriented by the abrupt change in position.
My fists beat weakly against his back, my legs kicking in vain. The world spun around me, and my sense of balance completely shattered. I felt a wave of nausea rise, my breaths coming in short, panicked bursts. The strength I had mustered to fight began to ebb away, replaced by a sickening sense of vulnerability.
Each step he took towards the elevator jostled me, making my head throb and my vision swim. I tried to focus, to find some way to resist, but my body betrayed me, overwhelmed by everything. Tears of frustration and helplessness streamed down my face, my earlier defiance crumbling in the face of his unrelenting control.
And I hated this man with every cell in my body.