Chapter 1

• I stepped out of the bathroom, steam curling around me like a lingering embrace, a small white towel barely covering my damp skin.
• As I reached for my dresser, a sharp inhale froze me in place.
• Mr. Dante stood in the middle of my room, arms crossed over his broad chest, his dark gaze locked on me with the force of a thunderstorm.
• Shit.
• "How fucking dare you bring your little boyfriend Ethan into my house?" His voice was like gravel and thunder, vibrating with possessive rage as he stalked toward me.
• I rolled my eyes. "His name is Peter, sir. How many times do I have to correct you?"
• "I don’t give a flying fuck what his name is." His jaw ticked, a muscle in his neck tightening.
• I folded my arms over my chest—well, as much as I could with this damn towel. "Look, sir, you have a new girl warming your bed every night. I think I deserve to have a boyfriend too. Maybe even have sex for once. I can’t just die a virgin."
• The second the words left my mouth, I wished I could swallow them back.
• A dangerous smirk tugged at his lips, his head tilting slightly as if savoring my words. "Ah… so that’s what this is about. You’re desperate to be fucked, Ayla? All you had to do was say so."
• The air thickened, heat crawling up my spine.
• His gaze dropped, dragging over me like he was already undressing me with his eyes.
• He stepped closer, his body a wall of warmth and power until my back met the cool surface of the wall.
• I swallowed hard. "I—I didn’t say—"
• "Shh." His finger traced down my arm, barely touching, yet leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "You just admitted it, sweetheart. You want a man to spread your legs, break you in, and make you scream."
• My breath hitched.
• He was on me—his scent, his heat, the overwhelming presence of him caging me in.
• I pressed my hands against his hard chest, trying to shove him back, but my towel slipped—falling away like a traitorous little whore.
• I gasped. My hands shot down to grab it, but he was faster.
• He seized my wrists and pinned them above my head, his grip unyielding.
• His dark eyes devoured me, raking over every inch of my bare skin.
• "Well, well…" He let out a low, dark chuckle. "Look at you. So fucking perfect."
• "Oh my God!" I squirmed. "Close your eyes, sir! Let me go!"
• "Why the fuck would I do that?" His voice dripped with amusement and something far more dangerous. "You think I’m gonna pass up the chance to admire what’s mine?"
• My breath caught. "Yours?"
• He pressed his knee between my thighs, spreading them just enough to make me tremble. His lips brushed against my ear.
• "Do you really think some little boy like Peter can handle this body?" He dragged a finger down my side, making my skin break out in goosebumps. "You need a man, Ayla. A real fucking man. One who knows how to ruin you properly."
• Heat surged between my legs. My traitorous nipples tightened under his gaze, and he smirked like he’d won some twisted game.
• I clenched my thighs together, heat pooling between them, but he clicked his tongue.
• "Ah, ah. Don’t do that, sweetheart," he murmured. "Unless you want me to spread them myself."
• I wiggled again, but all it did was make my breasts bounce, and his eyes darkened, his grip tightening.
• "Careful," he warned, his voice a sinful whisper. "Unless you want me to stop talking and start showing you exactly what you're begging for."
• A dangerous promise lingered in his words.
• And the worst part?
• I wasn’t sure I wanted to fight him anymore.
• Now, how the hell did I end up in this situation?
• Wait—let’s hit rewind and go back to where it all started.
• *****
• My mother died four years after giving birth to me. My father, mourning or maybe just lonely, took in another wife.
• Before I was even born, my father already had a child with another woman. And once my mother was gone, he brought them into our home.
• Their daughter was two years older than me. Back then, I was thrilled to have a sibling—until she showed me her true colors.
• To the outside world, we were a perfect blended family. But behind closed doors? They made sure I knew I wasn’t one of them.
• They smiled at me when my father was around, showered me with fake kindness, but the second he left, their true colors bled through. Lies. Manipulation. Cruelty.
• And when I tried to speak up? It was always their word against mine.
• So, I learned to suffer in silence.
• Until my father died in a tragic accident when I was seventeen. And that’s when the real nightmare began.
• My stepmother and her daughter inherited everything. Every last cent. But apparently, keeping my father’s fortune wasn’t enough—she found a way to profit off me too.
• I wasn’t a daughter. I wasn’t even a person.
• I was a product. A maid she could sell to the highest bidder, over and over again.
• For six years, I was passed from one rich household to another, treated like an object, a thing that didn’t deserve kindness.
• It was always the same story—cruel families who used me, belittled me, tried to break me.
• I ran away so many times. But she always found me. Always dragged me back. So I learned to endure.
• And now, at twenty-two, endurance was the only thing keeping me breathing.
• Barely a week ago, I was sold again. This time, to Mr. David and his girlfriend, Jennifer.
• At first, I thought I had finally landed in a place where I could just exist without fear. But I should’ve known better.
• Mr. David started making disgusting advances toward me whenever Jennifer wasn’t home.
• I turned him down—again and again. But I could see it in his eyes. The anger. The entitlement.
• Men like him don’t like hearing the word no.
• So, I avoided him. Every time Jennifer left, I made up an excuse and ran to the supermarket, killing time until I was sure she was back.
• It worked—until she left on a trip, leaving me alone in the apartment with him.
• I wanted to tell her what was happening. But what proof did I have? He already threatened me. And if I spoke up without evidence, she’d believe him. Not me. I knew this, because this wasn’t the first time.
• I had already been to jail once—for speaking up against another man who tried to force himself on me.
• And now, here I was again.
• When Mr. David came home early, my stomach dropped. He never came home this early. Not unless Jennifer was around.
• I avoided him. Kept my distance. But then he called out from his room.
• "Ayla, bring me a glass of orange juice."
• My pulse pounded in my ears.
• I wanted to ignore him. Wanted to run. But I had no choice. My hands trembled as I poured the juice, whispering a silent prayer.
• Maybe… maybe I was overthinking.
• I knocked on his door.
• "Come in," he called.
• I stepped inside cautiously, feeling a wave of relief when I saw the room empty. He was in the bathroom.
• I placed the juice on his nightstand, turning quickly to leave—
• But then the bathroom door swung open.
• And there he was.
• Butt naked.
• I screamed, slapping a hand over my eyes.
• "Holy shit—what the hell, sir?"
• He laughed, completely unbothered, his voice dripping with arrogance.
• "Don’t be afraid of my huge dick, Ayla. I know you want it just as much as I do. Go on, open your eyes."
• Open my—oh my god.
• The audacity of this man.
• And huge? Did he just call it huge?
• His girlfriend had clearly been feeding his ego, because whatever was dangling between his legs was not impressive.
• "Absolutely not," I spat, shaking my head furiously. I turned, blindly reaching for the door, but before I could escape, he blocked me.
• A rough hand grabbed my waist, pulling me into him.
• I recoiled in disgust, trying to push him off, but he was stronger.
• "Open your eyes, Ayla," he purred. "You’re missing out, baby. Come on, let daddy show you how good it can be."
• Daddy?
• I gagged. This man has got to be joking.
• "Let go of me," I warned, my voice shaking. "Now."
• But he only tightened his grip.
• "Shut the fuck up," he growled. "You think I don’t see the way you shake that sexy little ass when you walk by? You think I don’t notice how it jiggles for me? You’ve been teasing me for weeks, sweetheart. Now, you wanna play hard to get?"
• My stomach twisted with fear and rage.
• Then he grabbed my ass.
• That was it.
• I snapped.
• I shoved him with every ounce of strength I had. He stumbled backward—falling flat on his naked ass.
• I shouldn’t have laughed.
• I really shouldn’t have.
• But the sight of him sprawled on the floor, legs open, his tiny excuse of a dick flopping around?
• I snorted.
• Big. Huge. What a joke.
• His eyes darkened with fury. "So it’s funny now, huh?"
• I turned to run, but he lunged, grabbing my leg before I reached the door.
• My body slammed against his shoulder as he lifted me like a rag doll. I thrashed, kicked, screamed, but he was already carrying me to the bed.
• He threw me down, climbing on top of me, pinning my wrists against the mattress.
• "I was gonna go easy on you," he hissed, his breath hot against my face. "But you just love being difficult, don’t you? Fine. You want it rough, baby? I’ll give you exactly what you’ve been begging for."
• Terror flooded through me.
• "Please—please stop!" I sobbed, struggling beneath him. "Somebody help me!"
• But he only laughed.
• "You really think anyone can hear you?" His voice dripped with amusement. "You belong to me. I bought you. You’re mine to do whatever the fuck I want with, so stop fighting it and just enjoy, baby."
• I felt my chest tighten, panic clawing at my throat.
• Tears burned my eyes as I looked up at him.
• I had escaped men like him before.
• I would escape him now.
• Even if it was the last thing I did.