Chapter 38
AXEL’S POV:
From the moment the door creaked open, humiliation poured in like a flood. They hadn’t just locked me away–they’d stripped me of every shred of dignity, leaving me stark naked and freezing in this damp concrete cell. Axel’s men treated me like a toy, their sickening laughter echoing as they took turns hurling crude comments and vile advances my way.
Even now, their eyes raked over my bruised, filthy body with revolting hunger, as if my brokenness made me more desirable. My skin reeked from days without a shower, my teeth unbrushed, my breath stale. I could feel my bladder screaming, the pain sharpening with every second I couldn’t relieve it.
I prayed for death–but death didn’t come.
+45)
And here I was again, cornered by two of them. One grinned as he unzipped his pants, exposing himself like it was a joke. “I don’t know why the boss hasn’t let us have our fun yet,” he sneered. “I can’t wait to tear you apart with my big dick.”
The other, a hulking figure with dreadlocks and muscles like a nightmare come to life, leered at me. “She looks like she could handle a gangbang,” he said, his voice deep with mockery as his hand traced a slow circle around my breast, deliberately avoiding my nipples.
Disgust turned my stomach, but my body was too weak to react. I wanted to vomit, to scream, to fight–but all I could do was sway on my feet, lightheaded from hunger, dehydration, and the sheer acceptance of my misery. My eyes turned, darkness threatening to pull me under.
The door burst open, slamming against the wall with a deafening crash, and everything changed in an instant. My ears filled with percussive bangs, followed by the sickening thuds of bodies hitting the ground. I screamed, the sound jagged, barely recognizable as my own. The chains binding my wrists rattled violently with my sudden movement, the edges of the metal digging into my chafed skin.
Pain tore through my arms like fire, shooting up to my shoulders as if my bones themselves were splintering. Days of being locked in the same position had left my muscles stiff and useless. Even the slightest motion felt like punishment, the weighted chains biting into my flesh like living creatures.
When I dared to look, the sight froze me to the spot. The two men who had tormented me moments ago now lay sprawled on the cold concrete, their bodies lifeless. Blood pooled beneath them, the dark red liquid spreading in slow, horrifying tendrils.
I couldn’t look away. My breath hitched, as fear rooted me to the floor. The air was suffocating me with the reality of what I’d just witnessed. I’d never seen a death this gruesome before–not like this. It was ugly, violent, and far too close. My body trembled uncontrollably, my legs threatening to give way as bile rose in my throat.
And then I saw him.
Axel stood in the doorway, dressed in a charcoal suit that seemed untouched by the carnage he’d just created. In his hand, he held a gun, the black weapon gleaming under the light.
Of course, it was him. Who else would it be?
“Get someone to clean this up,” he said to Ryan, his tone devoid of emotion, as if disposing of human lives was just another task on his list.
Ryan nodded silently and disappeared through the doorway, leaving me alone with Axel. My stomach clenched painfully, the nausea rising with a vengeance. Whatever scraps were left inside me–bitter remnants of bile and regret–came spilling out onto the floor. I doubled over, heaving as my body convulsed, my breath coming in shallow, labored gasps.
The act of vomiting with nothing but emptiness inside was agony. Each retch tore through my abdomen, leaving me trembling and weaker than before. My mouth tasted of acid and despair, and tears streamed down my face, unbidden.
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Chapter 38
When I finally lifted my head, Axel was moving toward me.
45)
The sound of his footsteps hammered against my nerves like a countdown to my own demise. The gun was still in his hand, his grip firm and steady. My eyes darted between his face and the weapon, searching desperately for any hint of what he might do next.
But there was nothing.
His expression was unreadable, a mask of control that betrayed no emotion. That terrified me more than the gun. I couldn’t predict him. I couldn’t prepare myself for what was coming.
The closer he came, the more I panicked. My breathing turned erratic, and my heart felt like it might tear itself apart trying to escape my chest.
When he stepped over the bodies, I flinched instinctively, squeezing my eyes shut. I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable sound–the crack of the gun that would end me. Maybe he’d finally grown tired of me. Maybe this was his way of cleaning up loose ends.
But the sound never came.
Instead, I felt the cold, unyielding touch of the gun against my forehead. My body stiffened as the metal slid slowly, tracing a line from the top of my forehead to the curve of my chin. The sensation was precise like he was branding me with the promise of control.
I was paralyzed, too afraid to open my eyes, too afraid to move. The room seemed to fall into silence. I could barely think.
And then, the sound of chains broke through the stillness.
The metal cuffs that had bound my wrists for days groaned as Axel unlocked them one by one. Each release brought a flood of pain as blood rushed back into my numbed limbs. My wrists throbbed, the skin tender, and my arms hung uselessly by my sides. The chains clattered to the floor in a heap, the feeling replaced by a dull ache that radiated through my body.
When the cuffs around my ankles fell away, the pain shot through my legs with a vengeance, like needles stabbing into muscles that had forgotten how to move. My knees buckled under me, and I crumpled to the floor, unable to hold myself upright any longer.
I sat there, trembling, a broken shell of myself.
Axel shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. The fabric was warm, carrying the faint scent of his cologne–something woodsy and dark that I’d never noticed before. He crouched beside me, tucking my arms gently into the sleeves as if I were a child.
I stared at him, wide–eyed and disbelieving.
Confusion swirled in my mind, a chaotic storm of emotions I couldn’t begin to untangle. Fear. Bewilderment. Relief. None of it made sense. This wasn’t Axel. It couldn’t be. The man who stood over lifeless bodies without a second thought, who spoke of death like it was currency—this man wasn’t capable of kindness.
Was
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