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I’m not sure how I could have ever loved a man like Zayan. How I quickly fell under his spell before I truly saw the real him. How I was manipulated, lied to, and destroyed. All of it was a ploy, a way for him to buy time until he showed me the real him.
You’d think I would’ve realized his psychotic tendencies earlier in our relationship, but I was blinded by naivety and how it felt when someone paid attention to me and gave me the love I wanted and craved. By the time I knew what was happening, it was too late. I let the desire to be loved cloud my judgment from the reality of the darkness around me.
The only reprieve I had from him was the day he almost killed me. I lost a lot that day; myself, my sense of self-worth, and the…the…baby. The innocent life inside me that filled me with a world of conflict. But it was all quickly taken away from me, because of him.
I died and came back to life that day, yet I’ve never been the same.
He left me alone after that, at least for the last seven years. Though maybe even that was a lie. The way he spoke to me made my skin crawl. He admitted to watching me, like he never really went away. But that can’t be. I would have noticed, especially after everything that happened with Lya, Greyson, and the guys.
I meticulously looked over my shoulder for years because of him.
I would have noticed.
The thing about Zayan, though, is that he is a calculated, conniving bastard. The only time he hasn’t had everything planned out was the night he left me for dead. He only does things that he wants to do. He’s a manipulator and destroyer. If he says he has been around, I believe him. I believe he wouldn’t let me go as I thought, I was just too silly to think he’d leave me for good.
The loud creaking of the door pulls me from the downward spiral I’m falling into. His large body fills the frame while he stills for a moment to take in my naked body.
“Did you miss me while I was gone?” he beams with a wide smile. “Sorry I had to leave for so long, I had some business to take care of, but don’t worry, honey, I’m home.”
I remain silent, staring at him in the doorway. My pulse races at his calculating stare. I’m worried about what my voice will do if I speak, if it will give away my genuine fear, so I keep my mouth shut. I won’t give him that satisfaction.
“Fuck, baby. I’ll never get over your tight fucking body.” He groans. “You’ve gotten even more beautiful since the last time my cock was being strangled by your perfect cunt.” His voice has a romantic tone to it, very unlike all the dark thoughts going through his head. “Good thing I’ll be back inside you very soon.”
I can’t keep quiet any longer, so I swallow my fear and let it all out. “I’ll break your precious fucking cock if it comes near me.” I should keep my mouth shut, but I can’t. I can’t lose my spirit. I’ve fought too hard to let him break me now.
“Now, now, dahlia, is that any way to talk to the love of your life?” he reprimands.
“More like the death of my life,” I growl.
Zayan shakes his head like I’m joking. “Don’t act like you didn’t miss me. You were waiting for me to come back to you. It’s okay to admit that.” He moves closer to me. My joints instinctively lock up, coiling inside, ready for my next strike. I kicked him earlier, but he’s too smart to give me that chance again.
“Didn’t you, my dahlia? Did you miss me like I missed you?” He reaches a hand up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear with a false sense of gentleness. I stare at him with wild eyes, wondering what the hell he’s going to do next. “What? Cat got your tongue?”
“I have nothing to say to you.” I turn my head away from him, but he grips my chin with a bruising force, stopping me in my tracks.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you.” He leans down, biting my ear. “You’ll never look away from me like that again.” His familiar masculine scent fills my nose, reminding me of every time he used to press his body into mine while I cried for help, while I begged for him to stop. Unease fills my body the closer he gets to me, causing bile to burn the back of my throat.
“Every time I look at you, it makes me sick. You make me sick. I’d rather choke on my own vomit than look at your disgusting face.” I spit right on his face, but he only laughs before a dark shadow sweeps across his face.
He forcefully grips my hair, pulling so hard a yelp escapes me from the pain aching through my skull. “Your anger makes me so fucking hard, baby. You know just how to rile me up.” He lets go of my hair, only to grab onto my breast squeezing my nipple so tightly that a sharp sting shoots through my body.
Instinctively, my back arches off the bed, attempting to get loose, but his grip gets even firmer. “Now, my girl, open that pretty mouth of yours. I’ve got you a special present.”
Pure terror radiates through my body at his words.
No, no, no.
Not again. He can’t do this again. It took my body so long to get off the drugs, to not feel the withdrawals from how much he was shoving them down my throat. “No.”
“No? You don’t want my gracious gift?” He’s smiling at me like a maniac. His eyes darken with the promise of pain, but that damn smile is what scares me the most. He continues torturing my breasts, but my mind isn’t registering the agony.
Fuck, maybe I should take it. Maybe it will dull the torture he’s going to inflict. Before I can open my mouth, he loosens his grip and climbs on top of me to straddle my waist. “Don’t you miss the high? Don’t you miss what it was like to be floating while I was balls deep inside you?”
More bile rises into my throat, threatening to escape.
“You know I never wanted that. I never wanted to be addicted to the drugs you forced on me,” I scream in his face.
“But didn’t you? Isn’t that why you always dressed like a little whore, so I’d get you high later and punish your sinful pussy? I know you better than you know yourself, my sweet dahlia.” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out two small pills.
