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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.

Favour_Abigail · 现代言情
分數不夠
87 Chs

Chapter 39

Allison's POV

I swear on my dying mother's name—I did not leap into that lake by choice. Nor did I stumble into its cold, merciless depths by accident.

Someone shoved me. I remember it clearly. The sharp, undeniable force against my back, sudden and deliberate, knocking me off balance. But who? The face is a blur, lost in the haze of that split second. What remains vivid is the intent behind it—the kind that doesn't make mistakes. Whoever it was knew I couldn't swim, knew the water would swallow me whole. I've never swum a day in my life. The closest I've come to water is drinking it or letting it wash over me in the shower. Never have I willingly plunged beneath its surface, and I certainly wasn't about to start that day.