Chapter 2

• The sharp rip of fabric tore through the air as Mr. David shredded my white blouse with one hand, his greedy eyes devouring the sight of my black bra.
• "Fuck yes." He licked his lips. "Been hiding these perfect tits from me all this time, huh?"
• I wanted to throw up.
• His wet, disgusting lips trailed toward my cleavage, and I jerked, thrashing beneath him. My fight earned me a sharp slap across the face. Pain exploded through my cheek, making my vision blur.
• I couldn't believe this was happening. I couldn’t believe I was about to lose my virginity to this pathetic excuse of a man.
• A cruel part of me wondered—was Jennifer not satisfying him enough? She was gorgeous.
• And honestly? She had been kind to me, in her own distant way. If only she were still here. If only I wasn’t alone with this pig.
• "Quit squirming, Ayla," he growled, lips dragging against my jaw. "We both know you want it."
• Like hell I do.
• I struggled harder, but he was too strong. His grip on my wrists was like iron as he pinned me to the bed.
• With one hand still restraining me, he used the other to yank at the buttons of my skirt. His knee shoved between my thighs, trapping me completely.
• The doorbell rang.
• Mr. David froze, his entire body going rigid.
• "Who the fuck is that?" he hissed under his breath.
• The bell rang again. And again. Whoever was at the door wasn’t giving up.
• I wasn’t stupid enough to hope for a savior, but maybe—just maybe—this was my only shot.
• With a frustrated grunt, he grabbed a handkerchief from the nightstand and shoved it into my mouth, muffling any attempt to call for help.
• Then, moving fast, he grabbed my torn blouse and used it to tie my wrists to the bedpost.
• "Stay put like a good girl," he sneered. "Wouldn’t want to punish you for trying to escape, would we?"
• He stalked off toward the door, leaving me bound.
• I immediately began struggling, yanking at the fabric with everything I had. But damn it, for someone with tiny dick energy, he sure knew how to tie a knot.
• I heard voices at the door. My heart pounded, hope flickering for a brief second—but I couldn’t scream. The damn gag in my mouth kept me silent.
• I wasn’t giving up.
• Since my legs were free, I pushed myself up and twisted against the restraints. The fabric stretched. Ripped. Yes. Come on!
• After a few more frantic tugs, my hands came loose.
• Adrenaline surged through me. I shot off the bed, bolting for the door—just as I heard his footsteps approaching.
• Shit.
• I had seconds.
• Eyes darting around the room, I searched for a weapon. Nothing. No heavy lamp. No glass vase. Not even a fucking shoe.
• The window.
• It was small, but if I could squeeze through—No. Not fast enough. I could already hear his heavy footsteps approaching.
• Instead, I opened the window and ducked behind the door.
• The door swung open violently, and Mr. David stormed in. He cursed when he saw the empty bed, then rushed to the open window.
• I didn’t wait.
• The moment his back was turned, I sprinted for the hallway.
• "YOU LITTLE BITCH!"
• I barely made it to the front door before his hands were on me again.
• "You really thought you could escape me?" His grip tightened around my waist, dragging me back against him. "Huh? You belong to me. I bought you."
• Tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.
• He yanked me around to face him, fingers squeezing my jaw. His other hand brushed my cheek, wiping away the single tear that betrayed me.
• "There, there." His voice dropped to a sickeningly soft tone. "Don’t cry, baby. Be a good girl, and I promise—I'll make it feel so fucking good for you."
• My stomach churned with disgust. I was done playing weak.
• I gasped, clutching my throat. "I-I can’t breathe—"
• He blinked. "What the—?"
• I staggered, coughing violently. My knees buckled, and I collapsed.
• "Jesus Christ—Ayla, what the fuck?!"
• Panic laced his voice.
• I kept coughing, chest heaving as if I was choking on air. My body convulsed.
• He muttered a curse and released me, sprinting toward the kitchen.
• The idiot actually thought I was dying.
• The moment he was out of sight, I bolted for the door.
• I barely made it past the threshold before I heard his enraged roar.
• "AYLA!"
• I bolted outside, my bare feet slamming against the pavement. The night air wrapped around me like ice, my body trembling—not just from the cold, but from the terror clawing up my throat.
• He was right behind me.
• My heart pounded as I flung myself to the ground, sliding under a parked car in front of his house.
• The asphalt was rough against my skin, tiny pebbles digging into my flesh, but I barely felt it.
• I pressed my hands over my mouth, forcing my breaths to slow. Don’t make a sound. Don’t move. He can’t see you.
• His furious footsteps crunched against the pavement.
• "Fucking bitch," he seethed, his voice laced with frustration.
• I squeezed my eyes shut. My entire body tensed as his shadow passed by, his feet stopping right next to the car.
• Then—
• "Hello, Amber?"
• My breath hitched.
• "Your stepsister is such a fucking bitch. She tricked me and ran, but she couldn't have gone far."
• My stomach twisted. Of course, Amber was involved. It wasn’t even surprising at this point—just another reminder of how much she despised me. But why? What had I ever done to her?
• "Yeah, don’t worry. I know that slut is hiding somewhere," Mr. David continued. "Just can’t figure out where yet. But once I get my hands on her, I’ll fuck her so hard she won’t be able to walk tomorrow."
• I gasped before I could stop myself.
• Silence.
• The air around me turned suffocating. My pulse pounded in my ears.
• I silently prayed he hadn’t heard me—
• But then, his boots turned toward the car.
• I barely had time to react before he crouched down, his face appearing beneath the vehicle, a slow smirk curling his lips.
• "Found you."
• Panic surged through me. I tried to scramble away, but his hand shot out, clamping around my ankle.
• "No—!"
• He yanked me hard, dragging me out from under the car. My nails scraped against the asphalt as I kicked wildly, desperate to break free.
• "Let me go!" I screamed, thrashing against his grip.
• "Shut the fuck up," he growled. "You think you can run from me? You belong to me."
• My blood turned to fire.
• Like hell I do.
• Summoning every ounce of strength I had, I drove my knee up—hard—right into his crotch.
• A strangled groan ripped from his throat as he crumpled to the ground, hands clutching his junk like a wounded animal.
• I didn’t wait.
• I scrambled up and ran.
• The neighbor’s house was the closest. I banged on the door, my fists frantic against the wood. "Please! Please, open up! He’s going to kill me—!"
• No answer.
• I pounded harder. "Help me! Please—!"
• Nothing.
• No lights flicked on. No voices responded. Just silence.
• I backed away, my chest heaving. The truth hit me like a slap to the face.
• They weren’t going to help me.
• Maybe they were too scared. Maybe they just didn’t care.
• Either way—I was on my own.
• I heard him groaning behind me, recovering fast. If I hesitated a second longer, I was dead.
• So I ran.
• I didn’t stop until I reached the main road, screaming for help.
• No one.
• The street was empty. Silent.
• Panic clawed at my throat.
• Then—
• "Gotcha."
• A hand clamped down on my arm.
• I fought, kicking and thrashing, but my body was weak against his.
• He punched me hard on the face. My vision blurred. My knees buckled.
• Just as I felt myself slipping into unconsciousness, another voice cut through the night.
• "HEY! Let her go—NOW!"
• The grip on my arm vanished. I crumpled to the ground.
• The last thing I saw was a man launching himself at Mr. David, fists flying.
• Then, gentle hands cradled my face. A deep voice, urgent but soothing, murmured—
• "Stay with me. Hey—keep your eyes open. Stay with me."
• And then—
• Darkness.