Jossy's library, Residency Drive GRA, Onitsha (2026)

Bilad boys and Bad girls gets punished when you mess up.

16/05/2026

🥵🦋 His Little Prey 🦋 🥵
( She Owes Him... )

ÇHAPTER 11&12

By, Jossy Library ☘︎

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Selena’s breath hitched at Dominic’s words. The bathrobe suddenly felt too thin, the fabric clinging to her still-damp skin. She took a shaky step back until the edge of the bed pressed against her thighs.

“Vincent Solanke?” she whispered, confusion and fear twisting in her chest. “Who the hell is that? What are you talking about?”

Dominic’s gray eyes bored into her, dark and unyielding. “Someone who wants you badly enough to start a war. He knows you’re here. And he’s coming for you.”

Selena’s mind reeled. She knew nothing about any Vincent, nothing about whatever dangerous games Dominic was playing. Last night she had been an ordinary woman out with her boyfriend. Today she was trapped in a nightmare.

“I’m not yours to fight over,” she snapped, voice trembling with anger. “I’m Lionel’s girlfriend. I belong to him, not you.”

The words had barely left her mouth when Dominic moved like lightning. One second he was standing near the window, the next he had her pinned against the wall, his large hand cupping the back of her neck. Before she could push him away, his mouth crashed down on hers in a brutal, possessive kiss.

Selena’s eyes widened in shock. She tried to turn her head, but he held her firmly, his lips demanding, punishing. The kiss was raw—full of dominance and dark hunger. When he finally pulled back, his breathing was ragged, eyes blazing.

“You *were* Lionel’s,” he growled against her lips. “Now you’re mine. And the only reason I haven’t touched you yet is because of whatever restraint you’re somehow serving. Don’t push me, Selena.”

Her chest heaved. Tears of fury burned in her eyes as she shoved hard against his chest. Dominic didn’t budge. Instead, his gaze dropped slowly down her body, lingering on the way the white bathrobe had loosened during their struggle, revealing the curve of her breasts and the smooth skin of her thighs.

The blatant hunger in his stare made her skin crawl.

Without thinking, Selena’s hand flew up and slapped him hard across the face. The sharp sound echoed in the room.

For a heartbeat, Dominic went completely still. Then his expression turned terrifying. He caught her wrist in an iron grip, twisting it just enough to hurt without breaking it.

“Slap me again,” he said, voice deadly calm, “and I’ll have Lionel’s body cut into pieces and fed to the dogs before sunset. Do you understand me?”

Selena froze, the fight draining out of her at the cruel threat. Fresh pain lanced through her heart at the reminder of Lionel lying cold somewhere, denied even a proper burial. She nodded jerkily, tears slipping down her cheeks.

Dominic released her wrist but didn’t step back. “Good girl.”

He walked over to the large window, checking the grounds below. The afternoon sun still hung high in the sky, casting long shadows across the manicured lawn. It felt surreal that it was still the same day—barely past lunch hour.

“Get dressed,” he ordered without turning around. “Clothes are in the closet. Lunch will be brought up soon. The children will eat with you.”

Selena moved on autopilot, slipping into the walk-in closet on unsteady legs. She chose the simplest outfit she could find—a soft black long-sleeve top and matching pants that still felt too expensive against her skin. When she emerged, Dominic was still by the window, phone in hand, jaw clenched tight.

She stood there, arms wrapped around herself. “Why are you doing this? Why tell me about this Vincent person if you’re just going to keep me locked up like a prisoner?”

Dominic finally turned to face her. “Because he’s coming. And when he does, this place will turn into a warzone. You need to know exactly who owns you so you don’t make any stupid decisions.”

Selena wanted to argue, but the memory of his threat kept her silent. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. A few minutes later, a soft knock announced the arrival of lunch. Two maids entered with trays laden with food—roasted chicken, vegetables, fresh bread, and juice for the children who would join later.

Dominic watched her eat in silence for a while before speaking again.

“Vincent Solanke is my enemy. He lost something valuable last night. Now he wants you as compensation. But I don’t negotiate with men like him.”

Selena set her fork down, appetite gone. “I don’t want to be part of your war. I just want Lionel’s body so I can bury him. Then I’ll disappear. You’ll never hear from me again.”

Dominic’s laugh was low and humorless. “You still don’t understand. There’s no disappearing for you. Not anymore.”

The tension between them thickened. Dominic stepped closer again, studying her like she was a puzzle he intended to solve. His presence was overwhelming—tall, tattooed, radiating raw power. Despite everything he had done, despite the hatred burning in her chest, Selena felt a dangerous spark of awareness whenever he got too close.

She hated herself for it.

A sudden knock on the door broke the heavy silence. One of Dominic’s men stepped in, looking tense.

“Boss. We’ve got suspicious movement near the east perimeter. Three vehicles. Could be scouts.”

Dominic’s entire demeanor shifted instantly. The possessive man from moments ago vanished, replaced by the cold, ruthless crime lord.

“Double the guards. Lock everything down,” he ordered sharply. “No one gets close to this wing.”

The man nodded and left. Dominic turned back to Selena, his expression grave.

“Stay in this room. Keep the children close when they come. Do not open the door for anyone except me.”

He moved toward the exit, pausing at the threshold. His stormy eyes locked onto hers with terrifying intensity.

“And Selena… if you hear gunshots tonight, take the twins and hide under the bed. Do not come out until I come for you.”

Before she could respond, he stepped out and locked the door from the outside.

Selena stood alone in the luxurious bedroom, heart hammering wildly. The afternoon light streaming through the windows felt mocking now. Somewhere outside, engines rumbled in the distance. Then, cutting through the quiet like thunder—

A single gunshot cracked through the air.

☘︎

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11/05/2026

🥵🦋 His Little Prey 🦋 🥵
( She Owes Him... )

ÇHAPTER 9&10

By, Jossy Library ☘︎

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The silence that followed was deafening. Dominic’s jaw tightened, his expression darkening like a gathering storm. The children looked between them, confused by the sudden tension in the air.

He stepped fully into the room, closing the distance slowly. His powerful frame cast a long shadow over Selena and the twins. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, controlled, and laced with deadly promise.

“Don’t ever bring that question in front of the children again.”

Cyril tilted his head, big brown eyes wide with curiosity. “What question, Daddy?”

Nina echoed, clutching Selena’s arm tighter. “Yeah, what question?”

Dominic’s gaze softened slightly as he looked at his children, but the ice remained when it returned to Selena. “It’s nothing, little ones. Stay with Mommy. I’ll be back soon.”

Before Selena could say another word, he turned on his heel and left, the door clicking shut behind him. The lock didn’t engage this time, but the message was clear—she wasn’t truly free.

Selena sat on the floor with the two three-year-olds in her lap, her heart still racing. They stared up at her expectantly, innocent and trusting. She forced a small smile, even as exhaustion and grief weighed heavily on her shoulders.

Nina’s little nose scrunched up as she pointed at Selena’s chest. “Mommy… what’s that stain on your body? It’s red. Did you spill juice?”

The question hit Selena like a freight train. She glanced down and froze. Lionel’s dried blood still covered the front of her black dress—dark, flaky patches that had soaked through the fabric and stained her skin beneath. The metallic smell hit her again, faint but nauseating.

Her stomach twisted.

She gently pried the children’s hands away and stood on shaky legs. “Wait here for me on the bed, okay? Mommy’s going to clean up really quick. I’ll be right back.”

Cyril and Nina nodded obediently and climbed onto the large king-sized bed, bouncing slightly as they settled among the pillows.

Selena slipped into the luxurious en-suite bathroom and closed the door. The second she faced the mirror, her breath caught.

She looked like a ghost.

Her eyes were swollen and bloodshot, her hair a tangled mess matted with blood. The elegant black dress she had worn for a fun night out with Lionel was ruined beyond repair. Just yesterday morning, she had been curled in his arms, giggling as he tickled her side and called her his “little troublemaker.” He had kissed her forehead and promised they’d finally take that trip they’d been saving for.

Now Lionel was dead. She couldn’t even bury him. And she was trapped here, forced to play mother to another man’s children.

Tears spilled down her cheeks. She didn’t bother wiping them away. Instead, she turned on the shower, letting the water heat until steam filled the room. Slowly, she stripped off the ruined dress, letting it fall to the tiled floor with a heavy, wet sound. The hot water stung as it hit her skin, washing away the last physical traces of Lionel. She scrubbed hard, as if she could erase the memory along with the blood, but the pain in her chest only grew sharper.

By the time she stepped out, her skin was pink and raw. She wrapped herself in a thick white bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. It swallowed her frame, smelling faintly of Dominic’s cologne—woodsy, expensive, and suffocating.

When she returned to the bedroom, Cyril and Nina were rolling around on the bed, laughing as they played some made-up game with the pillows. Their joy was so pure it hurt to watch.

The next few hours passed in a blur of endless questions.

“Mommy, why you sad?”
“Mommy, where you were before?”
“Mommy, can we have ice cream for breakfast?”
“Mommy, why Daddy look angry always?”
“Mommy, will you sleep with us tonight?”

Selena answered as best she could—vague, gentle deflections that wouldn’t scare them. She braided Nina’s hair, built a pillow fort with Cyril, and let them climb all over her like a jungle gym. Despite everything, their little voices and sticky hugs chipped away at the wall around her heart. They were just babies. None of this was their fault.

But every time one of them called her “Mommy,” something inside her cracked a little more.

Lunch arrived when the door opened and two maids in crisp uniforms entered, carrying trays of food. The scent of warm soup, fresh bread, and sliced fruit filled the room.

“Time for lunch, Master Cyril, Miss Nina,” one of the maids said kindly, reaching for the children.

Cyril immediately wrapped his arms around Selena’s neck. “No! Want stay with Mommy!”

Nina burst into tears, clinging to Selena’s bathrobe. “Don’t go! Mommy just came back!”

The maids exchanged nervous glances but gently pried the screaming toddlers away. Their cries echoed down the hallway as they were carried off, breaking Selena’s heart all over again.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered after the door closed, leaving her alone once more. “I’m so sorry…”

She sank onto the edge of the bed, staring at the untouched food. Dominic was a beast. A heartless monster who killed without remorse, stole her freedom, and now used innocent children as chains to bind her to him. How long could she survive this?

The door opened again without warning.

Dominic stood there, still dressed in the same black shirt from last night, sleeves rolled up to reveal his tattooed forearms. His expression was unreadable, but tension radiated from him like heat from a flame.

Selena stood slowly, pulling the bathrobe tighter around herself. “What do you want now?”

He stepped inside and closed the door. For a long moment, he simply stared at her, his gray eyes tracing the damp strands of hair clinging to her neck, the way the robe dipped at her collarbone.

Then he spoke, voice dangerously calm.

“Vincent Solanke knows you’re here. He’s coming for you.”

Selena’s blood ran cold. “Who is Vincent Solanke?”

Dominic’s lips curved into a dark, humorless smile as he moved closer, towering over her.

“The man who believes you belong to him. And he just threatened to put a bullet in your head if I don’t hand you over by dawn.”

He reached out, his tattooed fingers brushing a strand of wet hair behind her ear. His touch was deceptively gentle.

“So tell me, little prey… are you ready to become the prize in a war you never asked for?”

☘︎

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09/05/2026

Sorry guys for not being able to post. I've been busy with school stuff but I will back by Monday.

04/05/2026

🥵🦋 His Little Prey 🦋 🥵
( She Owes Him... )

ÇHAPTER 7&8

By, Jossy Library ☘︎

COPY AND LOSE YOUR SIGHT!! 🖤

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Dominic Vale stormed out of the warehouse, the echo of Vincent Solanke’s distorted threat still ringing in his ears. His blood boiled with lethal fury. No one threatened him. Especially not over something he now considered his.

He slid into the driver’s seat of his blacked-out SUV and peeled out of the lot, tires screeching against asphalt. The city lights blurred past as he pushed the car well over the speed limit, knuckles white on the steering wheel.

The mansion gates swung open at his approach. He didn’t wait for the guard to fully open his door before stepping out and slamming it shut.

“Where is the girl?” he demanded, voice like ice.

The guard straightened instantly. “Third floor, east wing, sir.” He handed over the key without being asked.

Dominic took the stairs two at a time, his heavy footsteps echoing through the silent halls. He reached her door, shoved the key into the lock, and pushed it open.

Selena sat on the floor exactly where they’d left her, back against the side of the bed, knees drawn to her chest. Her eyes were swollen and red from hours of crying. Dried blood still stained her dress and hands. She looked shattered.

She didn’t even flinch when he entered.

Dominic closed the door behind him with a soft click that felt louder than a gunshot. He stood there for a moment, studying her.

“Can you take care of kids?” he asked without preamble.

Selena’s head snapped up, confusion cutting through her grief. The question was so absurd, so out of place after everything that had happened tonight, that she could only stare at him.

When she didn’t answer fast enough, Dominic crossed the room in two strides. He crouched in front of her, his large tattooed hand gripping her jaw firmly, forcing her to meet his stormy gray eyes.

“I asked you a question, Selena. If I ask you something and you don’t reply, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

Her heart hammered against her ribs. The look in his eyes was terrifying—cold, unyielding, and utterly serious. She swallowed hard.

“I… I’ve never taken care of any child in my life,” she whispered.

Dominic’s grip didn’t loosen. “Good. You’ll learn. From tomorrow morning, you will have two children to raise. In fact, you will be their mother from tomorrow onward.”

Selena’s lips parted in shock. “What? No—I can’t—”

He cut her off with a single icy sentence. “If you refuse, I might as well toss Lionel’s body to the dogs to feed. They’re still hungry.”

The threat landed like a slap. Selena’s mouth snapped shut. Fresh tears welled in her eyes, but she forced them back. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her break again. Not right now.

Dominic released her jaw, his fingers leaving faint red marks on her skin. He rose to his full height, towering over her.

“Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

Without another word, he turned and left the room, locking the door behind him.

Selena remained on the floor for what felt like hours, staring at nothing. Her mind spun in chaotic circles. Lionel’s dead body. Dominic’s threats. Two children? A ready-made family forced on her by the man who had murdered her boyfriend. None of it made sense. She thought about her parents, long gone. About the future she and Lionel had vaguely planned. About how quickly everything had turned to ash.

Exhaustion finally claimed her. She curled up on the thick carpet, still in her bloodstained dress, and drifted into a restless, nightmare-filled sleep.

---

A loud, persistent banging on the door jolted Selena awake.

She sat up quickly, disoriented, her body aching from sleeping on the hard floor. The banging continued. Heart racing, she pushed herself up and stumbled to the door. To her surprise, when she turned the handle, it opened without resistance. They had unlocked it.

Before she could process that, two tiny bodies launched themselves at her legs, wrapping their small arms around her with surprising strength.

Selena froze completely, staring down in shock.

A little boy and a little girl, both around three years old, clung to her like she was their lifeline. They had soft brown curls, big innocent brown eyes, and chubby cheeks. Nothing like Dominic’s sharp, dangerous features. They were beautiful.

It took her several long seconds to recover. Slowly, she knelt down to their level, her black dress pooling around her on the floor.

“Hi…” she breathed, voice hoarse from crying.

The boy looked up at her with a bright, toothy smile. “Mommy!”

The word hit her like a punch to the chest. Her heart melted and shattered at the same time.

The little girl—slightly smaller—tugged at the hem of her dress. “Mommy… why you take so long to come back? We missed you every day.”

Selena’s throat tightened painfully. She had no idea what to say. These children thought she was their mother. Or at least, they had been told she would be.

She forced a gentle smile, brushing a curl from the girl’s forehead with a trembling hand. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m here now.”

The boy puffed out his little chest. “I Cyril. This Nina. We three!”

“Three years old,” Nina added proudly in her baby voice, holding up three tiny fingers.

Selena nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “It’s nice to meet you, Cyril and Nina. I’m Selena.”

Cyril immediately corrected her, hugging her leg tighter. “Mommy Selena!”

Her heart gave another painful twist. They were so innocent, so full of trust. How could Dominic drag these babies into his dark world? And where was their real mother? The question burned on her tongue, but she didn’t dare voice it. One wrong move and Lionel’s body would disappear forever.

She sat on the floor properly and let them climb into her lap, their small warmth seeping through her cold, stained dress. For a few precious minutes, their chatter and giggles almost made her forget the nightmare surrounding her.

But the illusion couldn’t last.

Heavy footsteps approached down the hallway. Dominic appeared in the open doorway, his presence instantly sucking all the air out of the room. He leaned against the frame, watching the three of them with an unreadable expression.

Cyril and Nina lit up at the sight of him. “Daddy!”

Dominic’s gaze locked onto Selena’s. Something dangerous flickered in his eyes—possession, warning, and something deeper she couldn’t name.

Selena gathered her courage, holding the children close as if they could shield her from the truth. She looked him dead in the eyes and asked the question that had been haunting her since they ran into her arms.

“Dominic… what happened to their real mother?”

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03/05/2026

🥵🦋 His Little Prey 🦋 🥵
( She Owes Him... )

ÇHAPTER 5&6

By, Jossy Library ☘︎

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°°SEA SIDE DORK°°

Vincent Solanke stood with his arms crossed over his tailored navy suit. A thick Cuban cigar burned between his fingers as he inspected the latest shipment. His sharp eyes scanned every crate, calculating profit and risk with the precision of a man who had built an empire on blood and betrayal. At forty-two, Vincent still carried the dangerous charisma that made lesser men tremble.

Heavy footsteps approached. Storm, a rough-looking man with a scarred face and a perpetual scowl, sauntered in with a rolled cigarette tucked between his lips. To***co smoke curled around his head like a dirty halo.

“Boss,” Storm grunted, stopping a few feet away.

Vincent didn’t turn immediately. “Talk.”

Storm spat a piece of to***co leaf to the side. “Dominic Vale hit tonight. Killed Lionel Martin in cold blood at the Velvet Club. Then he snatched the girlfriend—Selena White. Location’s still unknown, but he’s got her locked down somewhere in the city.”

Vincent slowly turned, his dark eyes narrowing. The name Dominic Vale was like acid on his tongue. “When?”

“Tonight. Few hours ago.”

The sound of the sea filled the silence between them—waves roaring, relentless and unforgiving. Vincent took a long drag from his cigar, the ember glowing bright red.

Suddenly, a panicked scream cut through the night from the far end of the dock. “Boss! F**k!”

Vincent and Storm exchanged a sharp look before sprinting toward the commotion. Several of Vincent’s men were gathered around a large shipping container, faces pale under the floodlights. The heavy doors stood wide open.

Empty.

Every single crate inside had been cleared out. No weapons. No ammunition. Nothing but a single white note pinned to the wooden floor with a hunting knife.

Vincent snatched the note, ripping it free. In bold, mocking handwriting it read:

**Bastards.**

A roar of pure fury tore from Vincent’s throat. His eyes turned bloodshot with rage as he crushed the paper in his fist. “Dominic Vale!” he bellowed into the night, voice echoing over the crashing waves. “You son of a bitch! I will bury you!”

His men stepped back instinctively. Vincent Solanke was not a man who lost control often—but when he did, blood always followed.

---

°°DOM’S WAREHOUSE°°

Dominic Vale stepped into his private warehouse, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The massive space smelled of oil, metal, and victory. Rows of neatly stacked wooden crates filled the floor under bright overhead lights. His men moved with disciplined efficiency, inventorying the haul.

A satisfied smile tugged at Dominic’s mouth as he surveyed the scene. This was more than just arms—this was a direct slap to Vincent Solanke’s face. He exhaled a plume of smoke and nodded approvingly.

Killer, a sharp-featured young man in his early twenties with a wild glint in his eyes, approached with a cocky swagger. Fresh blood still speckled his knuckles from whatever trouble he’d stirred earlier that night.

“Boss,” Killer greeted, grinning. “Journey was too easy. Vincent’s boys never saw us coming. Must be losing his mind right about now.”

Dominic chuckled lowly, the sound dark and rich. “Good. Let him choke on it.”

Killer’s gaze sharpened with curiosity. “Heard you picked up a new girl tonight. Locked her up in the mansion. She the one from the club? Lionel’s piece?”

Dominic’s expression hardened instantly. He took a slow drag from his cigarette, eyes narrowing. “Don’t pry into my business, Killer. Handle your part and keep your mouth shut about mine.”

Killer raised both hands in mock surrender, still smirking. “Whatever you say, Don.” He backed away and disappeared between the crates, whistling tunelessly.

Once alone, Dominic tossed the cigarette butt to the concrete floor and crushed it beneath his boot. He walked over to one of the open crates and lifted a sleek, black assault rifle. It was an **HK416**, German engineering at its finest—reliable, accurate, and deadly in the right hands.

He loaded a fresh magazine with smooth, practiced movements, the metallic clicks echoing through the warehouse. Shouldering the weapon, Dominic aimed at the far wall and squeezed the trigger. Short, controlled bursts ripped through the air. Brass casings clattered to the floor like metallic rain. The recoil was perfect, the weapon responsive and true.

“Perfect,” Dominic murmured, lowering the rifle. A rare genuine smile touched his lips. This shipment would arm half his operations for months and leave Vincent Solanke bleeding money and influence.

He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to an anonymous encrypted number:

**Goods are ready for pickup. Usual spot. Midnight tomorrow.**

The reply came almost instantly: **Confirmed.**

Dominic slipped the phone back into his pocket and ran a tattooed hand through his dark hair.

“Vincent.... I kept my promise,” Dominic mumbled under his breath as he turned to leave the warehouse, a ghost of dark satisfaction crossing his face.

As soon as he stepped out into the cool night air, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, expecting another confirmation from his buyer. The screen lit up with an unknown number. He answered.

A distorted, mechanical voice came through, cold and laced with venom.

“Dominic Vale. You took something that belongs to me tonight, and I won't let it slide, but don't worry I'm not that bad. You will get a call from the hospital soon if you don't return what's min. You think I don't know where you hide the kids?You time starts now Dom... Tick.. tock.. Tick... tock"

The line went dead.

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02/05/2026

🥵🦋 His Little Prey 🦋 🥵
( She Owes Him... )

ÇHAPTER 3&4

By, Jossy Library ☘︎

COPY AND LOSE YOUR SIGHT!! 🖤

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The black SUV smelled of leather and faint gunpowder. Selena was shoved roughly into the backseat, her blood-soaked dress sticking to her thighs. Dominic Vale slid in beside her, his powerful frame taking up too much space. The door slammed shut with a finality that made her flinch. The driver didn’t wait for orders—he pulled away from the club’s back alley immediately, tires whispering over wet asphalt.

Selena stared straight ahead, but her mind kept replaying the moment the gunshot cracked through the air. Lionel’s head jerking back. The spray of blood. The way his body had crumpled like it weighed nothing. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, mixing with the drying blood on her skin. Her hands trembled in her lap, stained crimson. She could still feel the warmth of his blood soaking through her dress.

*I hate them,* she thought, the rage burning hotter than grief. *I hate him most of all.*

She didn’t look at Dominic. She refused to give him the satisfaction. But she felt his eyes on her—cold, calculating, and far too interested. The silence in the car was heavier than the bass back at the club. Every second stretched into an eternity of blood and loss.

Nearly thirty minutes later, the car slowed and turned through massive iron gates. Selena finally glanced out the window. A sprawling mansion rose before them, all sharp modern lines and dark glass, illuminated by subtle landscape lighting. It looked like something out of a nightmare—beautiful, expensive, and completely untouchable. Just like the man beside her.

The door opened. Rough hands pulled her out. Selena stumbled on the gravel but didn’t fight. Not yet. Her legs felt like lead as two of Dominic’s men dragged her up the wide stone steps and into the mansion. The interior was even more oppressive—dark wood, black marble floors, and art that probably cost more than she’d ever see in her lifetime. It reeked of power and sin.

They forced her into a large sitting room and shoved her down onto her knees on the cold floor. The position was humiliating, but Selena lifted her chin anyway. Dominic entered last, moving with the lazy confidence of a man who owned everything he surveyed. He shrugged off his black jacket, revealing a crisp shirt that stretched across broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up to expose intricate tattoos snaking down his forearms. He dropped onto the leather sofa across from her while his men stood at attention like obedient shadows.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Selena stared up at him with dead eyes—hollow, exhausted, and filled with pure loathing. Dominic’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile, as if he found her brokenness beautiful.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and studied her like livestock at auction. His gaze traveled over her tear-streaked face, the blood matting her dark hair, the way her ruined dress clung to her curves. He reached out with one tattooed hand and tilted her chin up higher, turning her face left then right, inspecting every inch. Selena je**ed away from his touch, but his grip only tightened for a second before he released her.

“Selena White,” he said, voice low and smooth. “Twenty-four years old. Orphan. Worked two jobs while putting yourself through night classes. Been with Lionel Martin for four years. Quite the loyal little thing, weren’t you?”

Selena’s jaw clenched. Hearing him recite her life so casually made her skin crawl. “Did you know much it have hurt?”

Dominic ignored the question. “Since you two were so close, it only seems fair you help settle his debt.”

“Why did you kill him?” she demanded, voice cracking but steady. “He borrowed money for his mother’s surgery. She died anyway. He was grieving. He was going to pay you back eventually. Why shoot him like an animal?”

Dominic leaned back against the sofa, one arm draped casually over the backrest. The wicked smirk on his face sent ice through her veins.

“My name is Dominic Vale,” he said simply. “I own Velvet Club… among other things. When people borrow from me, they understand the terms. Lionel knew exactly what would happen if he failed to deliver.”

Selena swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep looking at him. “If I pay off his debt—every cent—will you release his body so I can bury him properly?”

Dominic said nothing. He simply watched her, gray eyes unreadable.

Selena’s hands curled into fists on her bloody thighs. She met his gaze head-on, pouring every ounce of hatred and desperation into her stare. “If you don’t answer me, I might as well use what’s left of my life to ruin you. I have nothing left to lose, Dominic. You? You have everything. A empire. Money. Power. One desperate woman with nothing can burn it all down if she tries hard enough.”

The room grew deathly quiet. Dominic’s expression darkened, something dangerous flashing in his eyes. For a moment, the air felt charged, like the second before a storm broke.

Then he chuckled—a low, dark sound that sent shivers racing down her spine.

“Aren’t you curious how I know so much about you, Selena?” he asked, ignoring her threat entirely.

She let out a bitter laugh. “A man dangerous enough to kill without blinking definitely knows half the city’s secrets. And didn’t you boast earlier that the police can’t touch you? So no, I’m not surprised. You’re just another untouchable monster hiding behind money and guns.”

His smile faded. The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Dominic stood slowly, towering over her kneeling form. He stepped closer until the toes of his polished shoes were inches from her knees.

“Smart girl,” he murmured, almost approvingly. But there was an edge to his voice now—warning. “Take her upstairs. Third floor, east wing. Lock the door.”

Two men immediately moved to obey, grabbing her arms and hauling her to her feet. Selena didn’t resist this time. As they dragged her toward the grand staircase, she twisted her head to look back at Dominic.

“Think about what I said,” she called out, voice echoing through the marble foyer. A small, broken smile touched her lips despite the tears still drying on her cheeks. “I mean every word.”

Dominic watched her go, his jaw tight, eyes narrowed. He didn’t reply.

The men pulled her up the stairs and down a long, luxurious hallway. They stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, pushed her inside a beautifully furnished bedroom, and slammed the door shut. The lock clicked with terrifying finality.

Selena stood in the center of the room, chest heaving. The adrenaline that had kept her going finally began to crash. She looked down at her blood-stained hands and dress, at the dark red that had once been Lionel’s life.

A sob tore from her throat. She sank to the floor, back against the bed, and cried until her body shook. Grief, rage, and fear warred inside her.

"Babe..... I'm sorr..y"

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TBC♡︎✩♡︎

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