Kiera's POV

"Do you really have to be that dramatic?" My eyes fall open to meet Lara standing next to me, her gaze drawn and her lips set in a grim line.

My lips work this time, but I have nothing to say. I am drowsy, and my whole body feels slow, like I have been asleep for too long that I no longer understand my bodily functions.

"Right," she rolls her eyes. "I expect you are about to launch into a tale of how Alex did this to you, right?"

"Lara..."

"Don't Lara me!" she snaps suddenly, her golden locks bouncing out of the hair tie. "I have done everything I can for you, Kiera. Everything your mother would have wanted for you."

"You took the house!" I wail. It tastes like salt. "That house was the only thing my parents left me, and yet, you took it without thinking twice."

"How about every single thing I spent on you since you killed them seventeen years ago?"

It is the first time my mother's sister has ever expressly told me I am responsible for the death of my parents. But I have always seen it in her eyes, all those years ago when I was forced to move in with her after the funeral.

"Lara...."

"I would have had my sister here with me if you had not gone ahead to call her that night. It's no different from today. Just the slightest inconvenience, and you go right ahead to call the world."

It hurts. Every part of me hurts.

"I was pushed down the stairs, Lara." My voice breaks, like the sound of the rain hitting the earth that night. "He pushed me down the stairs."

"Oh, stop being such a crybaby," she mutters, swatting a hand in the air dismissively. "Alex wouldn't have hurt his child. He cares about that little bump way more than you care for it. Because tell me why on earth you decide to get him pissed all the time enough to take it out on you?"

"Is that what I did to you, too, before you sold me off to him?" I whisper, my eyes tired of every shed tear. "I got you pissed each time you raised your hands against me and made me go to bed without dinner?"

"Don't get me started on how badly I wanted to toss you out!" Something changes in her tone as she moves away from the bed. "You are such an ungrateful child. I found you the best man, more than you could ever do for yourself. And this is how you repay me?"

"You should have given him to your daughter, Ava, instead."

The hit comes before I can blink, forcing my head to the other side. It stings, way more than the injuries on my arms. I try to push back the fresh tears, but they come anyway, unhindered.

"Your husband will be here to pick you up," she mutters, moving towards the doors. "You'd better play nice to him if you don't want to be back here tomorrow."

But after another six hours, Alex never walks in through that door.

And with my frail legs, I take myself home.

***

I am floating.

Or at least, that is what it feels like, where nothing tethers me to the earth. My arms feel light by my side, and a soft sigh escapes my lips. This is what peace should feel like, but even in that state, I know that it isn't bound to last long.

As if on cue, the sharp thud jerks me up from bed, in the little room in the basement. My eyes dart around the dark space for a few seconds, the blurriness slowly taking form. My head hits the top of the shelf when I move, and a whimper escapes my lips.

Another thud.

Wood splinters meet me where I sit on the bed, decorating my head and the sheets. I sniff in the dust, resisting the urge to cough, to let him know that I am awake.

"Where is she?" His voice roars through the building like thunder, and I push further into the headboard. My legs push up, and my knees press against my chest. The shivers that follow are uncontrollable.

Natural.

The way it has always been. I wonder why I still am not used to it.

"Keira, where the fuck are you?" he growls from the floor above, dragging his feet. I pray he doesn't come back here with all the might I possess. Still, I know prayers don't work. They never have for me. "Don't tell me we are about playing a little hide and seek again?"

A whimper escapes my lips, and I slam them against each other to stop another from slipping out. It is cold, even though it has nothing to do with the summer night.

When he moves again, when more wood splinters fall from the floorboards above, I hear someone else with him. A woman. Soft, tiny voice that feels like gritty butter.

"Alex," she sighs dramatically. I imagine her with long false lashes, stiletto nails, and an outfit that barely covers anything. Of course, it is the middle of the night. What else can Alex come home with?

"Why don't you let her be?" she continues, her tone filling me with dread, worse than Alex.

"Oh, shut the fuck up!" He screams suddenly, his voice echoing through the building. "This isn't any of your business."

"I just thought..."

"Just go into my bedroom and get ready for me. I need to show that good for nothing what real fucking feels and looks like. How dare she make me spend so much in the hospital?"

"No," I whisper in the dark, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. Even if no one can see me, I shake my head repeatedly, willing it to all be over soon. There is nowhere to run to.

No one to listen to me.

I hear the door to the basement crack open, and in that second, I slowly roll out of the bed, landing unceremoniously on the ground. He hears me, because his feet halt suddenly, and laughter rolls next, cold and dreadful.

"Hey, wifey," he calls, a tinge of amusement in his tone. The silence ends when he moves again, the floorboards groaning with every step as he comes down the dingy stairs.

"Come on, baby. Are we going to play this game again?"

Kiera's POV

My whimpers get louder. I try to stop it. Oh God! I do. But it hurts. Every part of me does. My hand moves to my chest slowly, pressing hard on it. Nothing changes. The tears still roll down my cheeks, and it still feels like I am being torn from the inside out.

"Wifey!" The amusement is gone, replaced by an undiluted rage. I have felt it before. I feel it every day. "We can do it my way, which you know is the easiest. Or yours. Choose one, baby."

"Choose carefully."

I should go out. I know I should. Yet, I remain huddled in the dark, praying for a miracle that will never come.

He waits a full minute before he sighs. "Okay then. Do it your way."

My husband's footsteps inch closer every second. I try to drain out the sound, focusing on the roar of my blood against my ears. I am delusional enough to think he isn't going to find me, enough to wrap my hands around my frame and shut my eyes tightly.

My tears touch my lips, the taste of salt travelling through.

"Got you!"

I jump in fright when his cold arms wrap around me, pulling me out from the corner. His fingers dig into my forearm, and I scream from the pain that builds. Alex doesn't let go, pulling me to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

"Alex!" I can't see him in the dark, but I can feel him.

I can smell him.

That sharp liquor underneath his breath.

"Alex, please." My voice cracks, coming out frail. Helpless. Tears blur my vision, and my breathing comes out in pants. "Please. Not tonight."

"That is the problem, Kiera," he drawls, shaking his head slowly. "You think the world revolves around you, but guess what?"

My whimpers slice through.

"It doesn't."

"Alex..."

"What did you think would happen earlier today, huh? That Lara would throw me in jail for touching you?" His scoffs, and the sound settles in the pit of my stomach. "No one cares about you, Kiera. Not until you are taught a lesson."

"Alex!"

My scream travels through the building, but Alex doesn't budge, pulling me with him up the stairs, my bones hitting each step until I find it hard to breathe. My head slams against the ground when we reach the landing, and a piercing scream leaves my lips.

Outside the basement, he turns away for a second. Long enough for me to get up from the floor and race towards the door. My heart thuds hard against my chest. I hear him get closer behind me.

I look back at him. I shouldn't have. Because in a split second, I trip on one of his discarded shoes and find myself back where I started.

On the ground.

Alex hovers above me, the dim lights of the living area splaying on his face. I see his eyes, bright with action, and that smug look on his face that I wish I could wipe away.

"Did you really think you could run away after you returned from the hospital, Kiera?" This is the lowest I have ever heard him speak. He goes on one knee and brings his face closer to me. "Think twice, baby, because you belong to me. Now and until I decide I am done with you."

"You don't deserve me!" I snap, something going loose in me. "You and your whoring-self do not deserve me."

"What did you just say?"

"You heard me, Alex."

His hand lifts high in the air, and I close my eyes, bracing myself for the slap. But it never comes, because the next thing I hear is the sound of a car honking loudly in the driveway.

I want to hug whoever it is that just stopped on our driveway, because suddenly, Alex no longer cares about the punishment he has for me.

Or at least, not yet.

He arches a brow, pushing through the doors into the porch without giving me a second look. I wait for the sound of his footsteps to fade into oblivion before opening the door again. The night's air whips harshly against my broken skin, but it is ten times better than staying here, allowing Alex to have his way for the millionth time.

My heart thuds hard against my chest as I walk out through the small steps on the porch. My eyes take him in. He is leaning against the car on the driveway, talking to the person behind the wheel.

Even though I can hear nothing from where I stand, it looks like an argument. A lot of waving hands and saliva flying into the air.

I pick up a few words.

"You cannot do this!" It's private property." "That wasn't a scream. It was a moan. Know the difference."

Of course, I expect no different from the man my aunt sold me to after taking everything that belongs to me. The man who sees me as nothing more than a possession, beats me up every single day and brings in his whores, forcing me to attend to them, to watch them have sex.

It is sickening.

I thought for the longest time that I could endure until my aunt finally realized that I am the only daughter of her sister, and I do not deserve to be treated this way. But the days have turned into months, and this ... this is the only way out.

Yet, the moment I turn, my clumsy luck strikes for the umpteenth time today. My feet hit a tin can, the sound ringing through the night. And my dear husband jerks in my direction.

I know that tonight, it is either kill or be killed.

So, I don't think twice about it.

I run.

The wind roars against my ears, and my pulse thrums hard against my blood with every step I take. I am barefoot, so the tar on the road bites into my feet. It stings sharply, but anything is better than returning to that house with Alex.

But everything happens all at once.

The blinding white lights, the screeching sound, and the pair of piercing green eyes watching me from the glass before my body hits the ground.

Ryan's POV

The Montenegro family library is filled with people I really do not care about. Their voices carry into the air, pinched faces, hurrying lips, narrowed gazes – the loudest this space has been since the death of my father.

I turn to the windows, leaning forward slightly. The clouds are gathering. It won't be long before rain patters to the earth. I hope it doesn't trap them all in here. I can't deal with them for an hour longer.

The door squeaks open suddenly, and the room is immediately plunged into silence as David, the family lawyer, saunters in. His shoes tap lightly against the marble floor as he crosses the space, walking past the whole family and settling into the seat that once belonged to my father.

A muscle works in my jaw, but in that split second, I feel warm, slender fingers on my arm. My girlfriend, Luciana.

She shakes her head subtly. "Not here, Ryan."

David's eyes fall on her. "The will reading is meant for family only."

"I am family," she murmurs, leaning further into the couch. "Or do you want to contest that?"

David looks like he is about to say something, but he decides against it, moving instead to the black briefcase in his hands. In another minute, he retrieves a folder and flips to the first page.

"The late Montenegro has assigned all rights to me to read his will today, and hence, everything in this document stands. If you have issues with it, you can take it up with the court, but I assure you that it was written and signed in the presence of two witnesses."

And then, he looks sternly at my mother, seated at the opposite side of the room. "Shall we begin?"

David starts with the formalities, reading every line and going into details about the properties and assets owned by my father. I allow my mind to trail away, because I am aware of every penny. I have been from a tender age.

As his only son, my father made it a point to teach me everything I needed to know to run the chain of companies. But we had our differences. My father and I.

After what feels like an eternity, David finally calls my name, and even the silence in the room deepens. I scoot to the edge of my seat, looking up at David.

He clears his throat noisily before his lips move again. "To my son, Ryan Montenegro, you have grown to live below your potential. It is what I term a reckless life, and I would like to see some responsibility in you now. For this reason, the ownership of the companies goes to you."

A smile stretches on my mother's face, but mine remains the same. Stoic and expressionless. I know my father. He would not have given me his whole legacy if there wasn't a catch to it.

As if on cue, David flips to the next page. "But this is only dependent on a condition."

The air in the room stills.

"If Ryan Montenegro, my first and only son, fails to marry within one month of my death," David continues. "Control of the Montenegro Conglomerate will be transferred to my nephew, Xavier Montenegro."

"That's a joke, right?" My mother's voice carries through the room. "I mean, my husband couldn't have possibly written that."

"There's still more," David murmurs. Of course. He is going to make me suffer from being called the CEO.

"If you get married without having a child within the first two years, the company's ownership shares will go to my nephew, Xavier Montenegro. This is to ensure that the marriage is real and strong, and to continue the Montenegro line."

My eyes take in Xavier, sitting comfortably with a smug look on his face. He leans in to his mother and whispers something.

The grins on their faces throw me off balance, but if there is one thing I have learned from my late father, it is the fact that you never let your enemies know when you are displeased.

"Is that it?" I mutter, rising to my feet. David looks up at me, his eyes bearing that gleam of surprise. He expected me to do something more. Maybe lash out at how ludicrous the will is. But I expected it.

"Yes, Sir."

"Great, then." I turn to my mother. "I have to get to the company now. There is a meeting scheduled with some investors tonight. Just in case Xavier takes over as CEO, I need him to meet the finances of the company in great shape."

It is meant to be a jab, but my foolish nephew nods in agreement, his wide smile almost bursting his face open.

Rolling my eyes, I move to my mother, leaning to plant a chaste peck on her cheeks. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"What about Luciana?" She whispers, her eyes on my girlfriend.

"She said she has an outing with her friends tonight. I'll see her at home."

I pull away and walk out of the mansion that ceased to be called home ages ago, waiting out on the curb as my bodyguard brings the car over.

"Sir," he says as he gets the backseat door open.

"Thank you, Thomas."

Out in the dense traffic, Thomas regards me from the rearview mirror. His lips part and close repeatedly.

"I heard what happened in there."

"Damn!" I breathe. "News sure does travel fast."

"What do you plan on doing?"

I shrug. "There is no way Xavier is getting the company. Not after all the rumors circulating."

"There was nothing about that in the will?"

I shake my head. "My father isn't bold enough, even in death, to declare to the whole city that the young man he parades as his nephew is actually his firstborn son. And even if Xavier doesn't know that, I do."

Thomas takes a sharp turn, going at full speed. "If he does, he would know the CEO seat is actually his to take."

"There is no way on earth I am giving out the Montenegro Conglomerate to an ex-convict. Xavier is...."

A girl with long brown hair runs out into the open from nowhere, and Thomas hits the brakes hard, pushing me forward. She halts in that split second, panic and dread filling her eyes before her feet give way underneath her.