Everything’s finished!
Ana dragged her bleeding, dust covered feet down the cracked pavement toward her apartment building. Every step felt like walking on broken glass.
Her final paycheck was crumpled tightly in her fist... a miserable handful of dollars that wouldn’t even cover a fraction of her upcoming expenses.
She clutched her thin jacket around her shivering frame as she climbed the dark, creaking stairwell to the third floor. The hallway smelled of old cabbage and damp rot.
It was a miserable place, but it had been her place. Her little piece of freedom.
When she finally reached her door, she stopped.
The brass deadbolt was already turned. The door was slightly ajar, a sliver of warm light cutting through the dark hallway.
Anastasia’s heart froze.
Slowly, with a trembling hand, she pushed the door open. The hinges groaned loudly in the quiet night.
Her tiny, one-room apartment was exactly as she had left it... except for one massive, suffocating presence.
Damian Sterling was sitting perfectly composed on the single, worn-out wooden chair by her small kitchen counter. His long legs were crossed, his tailored suit a striking, mocking contrast against her peeling wallpaper and damp walls.
A glass of whiskey rested casually in his large hand. He had been sitting there in the dark, patiently waiting for her to crawl back into his trap.
Ana stood paralyzed at the threshold, her chest heaving as she stared at him through a haze of pure exhaustion and anger.
"You..." she choked out, her voice cracking. "You destroyed everything. My jobs... my life... you took all of it in a single day."
Damian didn’t look angry. He didn’t even look smug.
He simply swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his dark, predatory eyes slowly lowering to scan her bare, bruised, and bleeding feet.
The silence stretched between them, heavy and absolute, before he finally raised his gaze back to her pale face.
"I told you, Anastasia," Damian purred, his deep voice cutting through the damp chill of the room. "The world outside is entirely too cruel for a fragile little doll like you. It’s time to come home."
His lips curved into a low, lethal smile...the smile of a demon who had just successfully hunted down his prey.
"You tried to run from the Devil, Ana," he whispered, his eyes flashing with absolute, unyielding possession. "But you forgot that I own the hell you’re trying to hide in."
A wild, desperate fury exploded inside Anastasia. The sheer ruthlessness of his actions broke the last thread of her sanity.
"You monster!" She shrieked, launching herself at him.
She didn’t care about the size difference. She didn’t care that he could crush her.
Driven by rage and frustration, she began thrashing against him, her fists pounding wildly against his broad chest. Damian didn’t even flinch, standing like a solid brick wall against her frantic assault. In her blind rage, her arm swiped across the counter, striking the glass in his hand.
Smash!
The glass shattered violently against the floor, amber whiskey and sharp shards exploding across the linoleum.
Blinded by tears, Ana took a step back, completely forgetting she was barefoot. She was about to step directly onto a massive, jagged glass shard.
Before her skin could touch the glass, Damian’s eyes flashed with a terrifying aura. In one fluid, aggressive movement, he lunged forward. His large hand clamped around her waist, forcefully hoisting her up and slamming her back against the damp wall.
Ana gasped as the impact knocked the air from her lungs. Before she could breathe, Damian pinned both of her wrists high above her head with just one of his hands. His other hand shot up, his large, powerful fingers wrapping tightly around her throat.
He didn’t choke her, but the heavy, restrictive pressure was an undeniable promise of violence.
"Listen to me very carefully," Damian growled, leaning in so close his hot breath brushed her lips. His dark eyes were entirely void of humanity, radiating a chilling, lethal power. "You think this is cruelty? I am showing you a mere fraction of my power, Anastasia. My enemies have seen things worse than death. It is going to be in your absolute best interest that you do not make an enemy out of me."
The raw, primal terror of his grip finally shattered her. The fight drained out of her body all at once. Her hands went limp in his grasp, and a broken, pathetic sob ripped from her chest.
Seeing her completely broken, Damian abruptly released his hold and took a calculated step back.
Ana’s knees gave out instantly. She collapsed onto the cold, dirty floor, curling into a ball at his feet as heavy, breathless tears streamed down her face. She looked so small, so utterly defeated beneath his towering, domineering form.
Damian looked down at her, his expression as cold as carved stone. He didn’t offer a hand. He didn’t offer comfort.
"I am giving you your final choice, Ana," he demanded, his deep baritone echoing off the damp walls. "What do you choose? Will you submit yourself before me and have my mercy... or do you choose to defy me and face my absolute wrath?"
Ana sniffled, her chest heaving as she stared at the floor. A bitter, suffocating truth settled over her.
"Whatever I choose..." she choked out, her voice a fragile, trembling whisper. "It is still a defeat to me."
Slowly, she forced her head up, her red, tear-filled eyes locking onto his piercing gaze with the last ounce of defiance she possessed. "But I would rather suffer than become your wife again... because you are a heartless, miserable bastard!"
She swallowed hard, the word burning her throat as she officially signed her soul away.
"I will become your slave for one year... and have my freedom from you for the rest of my life. I will submit to..."
Before the final word could leave her lips, the room suddenly spun into darkness. The extreme emotional toll, the hunger, and the physical exhaustion finally claimed her. Her eyes rolled back, her body went entirely limp... and she fell sideways against the cold floor.
Damian stood over her unconscious form, his dark eyes looking down at her pale face without a single shred of pity. He didn’t rush to pick her up. Instead, he simply adjusted his cuffs, his deep voice slicing through the dead silence of the room.
"Look at you, Ana. Are you happy now?"
The dark contract was officially sealed. She had accepted her fate as his slave for the next year just to ensure she would never have to be his wife again.
"You brought this on yourself," Damian whispered into the dark room, a chilling smirk playing on his lips. "Don’t blame the Devil."
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