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Her Master's desire

"Take her," the dangerous man orders casually, like I'm the most boring little human he's ever encountered in his life. "I said stay the fuck away!" I yell at him this time, causing him to tilt his head in amusement. "A little girl like you shouldn't be swearing at your elders. It's bad habit. Your daddy should have taught you better." Hold on. My daddy. And if I heard correctly the first time, the other man had mentioned something about 'daughter' and 'grown woman'. Shit! What's going on? This must be Darius Hunter! And how do they know about my existence!? Oh no! My father! Have they taken him? Have they hurt him? "Darius... Hunter?" I stutter in sheer terror, the dangerous man tensing as I mention his name. "You know my name. I don't know if I should be impressed or disappointed," Darius chuckles, amusement seeping into his tone. "Errrm... I... Where's my father...?" My demand sounds more like a plea, my voice shuddering in painful anticipation. "Waiting for you at my place. He said we should come get you. I didn't expect you to be old enough to beat up my man. I am definitely impressed, and your value, my dear, has just gone up." --------------------------- Allison, a confined young woman who finds solace in books and writing, is thrust into a world of danger and deceit when her father, Frank, a reformed gambler turned priest, sells her to Darius Hunter, the infamous "Devil of California," to settle an old debt. Darius tries everything possible to break Allison for his pleasure, promising himself not to touch her innocence. Yet, as Allison navigates the treacherous waters of her new life, she discovers hidden strengths, forms unexpected bonds, and unravels the dark secrets of her family’s past. Amidst turmoil and passion, Allison and Darius find themselves entangled in a powerful and transformative love story, punctuated by shocking twists and turns.

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41 Chs

Chapter 26

Darius's POV

I'm going to kill her. It's certain.

My head is raging, a storm of emotions swirling as I stand at the edge of the bed, watching Allison mumble incoherently into the pillow. I'm seething, barely able to contain the mix of anger and disbelief coursing through me. How did things spiral so completely out of control? I never asked her to drink! Sure, I was a little amused—curious to see how she'd handle a bit of champagne—but I never expected this. Not the spectacle she made at the party, her wild accusations slicing through the air like daggers, and certainly not the drunken tirade that followed, each slurred word chipping away at my patience.

"Happy birthday to you!" she yells, voice muffled by the pillow. "But you didn't think to tell me, yeah!? How nice! You must think yourself a god!"