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From the ashes of cruelty and despair, she rose-a fragile star burning against the darkness. Broken and bruised by a brutal past, Elena Hart's dreams seem all but shattered. But when Dominic Blackwell, the cold and ruthless billionaire, enters her life, their collision sparks a dangerous fire. Forced into a marriage neither wanted, both haunted by demons, their bitter battles reveal unexpected desire beneath the cruelty. In a world where love can be as brutal as power, can two broken souls find salvation in each other-or will the darkness consume them both?
Chapter 1 Just Keep Going
The rain hit her face like needles, sharp, relentless, punishing. Elena Hart crouched beneath a broken shop awning, her thin body pressed to the cold brick like it might swallow her whole. Water seeped into her shoes, her coat clung to her like a second skin, and the wind howled through the alley like a ghost mourning what it had lost.
She was soaked to the bone. Starving. Exhausted.
But she was free.
Every aching step she'd taken since dawn felt like dragging the weight of her past behind her. Each drop of rain echoed a memory she had tried to bury, bruises, broken words, and the kind of silence that screams louder than fists ever could.
Fifteen. That was the last time he hit her. Not in rage. But calmly. Deliberately.
It started with a question over breakfast.
"Why can't I go to school?" she'd whispered, barely above a breath. "Or learn something... like the others."
The spoon he held clattered against his chipped plate. His gaze snapped up, cold and wolf-like, nostrils flaring.
"School?" he scoffed. "What for? So you can run off and leave me behind?"
"No," she'd said, voice trembling. "So I can... make something of myself. So I can dream."
He stood slowly. That sound-chair scraping tile was the warning.
"You think you're better than me, girl?"
"I didn't say-"
"But you meant it," he snarled.
From the open window, Miss Rosie had peeked in, face lined with worry. "Everything alright in there?"
Elena had opened her mouth, but he cut in like a blade. "Mind your business, Rosie."
"She's just a child," Rosie said gently. "You shouldn't speak to her like that."
"She's mine," he growled. "Not yours."
Their eyes met, Elena and Rosie. The older woman gave a small nod. A silent promise: I see you.
Then she vanished.
That was when it happened.
His voice dropped to a deadly calm. "Don't ever speak to me like that again."
"I wasn't-"
Crack.
Pain exploded across her cheek. She staggered back, stunned. Tears welled, but she didn't let them fall.
That was the moment something inside her didn't just crack, it shattered. Or maybe... it finally broke free.
She knew then: he would never let her go.
So she left.
Now, huddled beneath flickering neon, Elena pulled a crumpled paper from her pocket. A train schedule. Faded, damp. A lifeline.
Miss Rosie had given it to her months ago. "If you ever leave," she had said at the pump, pressing the paper into Elena's hand, "don't wait for someone to save you."
Elena hadn't understood then.
She did now.
One train left after midnight. If she kept walking, she could make it.
Her body trembled. Not from cold but from the weight of her choice. The fear of it. The courage.
She let her eyes flutter shut for a second and let her mind slip away just for a breath.
She imagined a ballroom. Gilded ceilings. Crystal chandeliers. Music swirled like snowflakes. She wore midnight blue silk, her hair pinned with stars. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't broken. People whispered her name in awe, not pity.
Elena Hart.
And across the room, a man waited for her. Tall. Kind-eyed. Not powerful because of his name but because of the way he looked at her, like she was the only person in the world.
He reached for her hand. You did it, he said. You made it. You're home now.
The vision faded.
The city returned. Ugly. Loud. Dangerous.
But it didn't scare her.
Not like home did.
A siren wailed in the distance. A dog barked. Somewhere, someone shouted in anger.
Elena rose slowly, her joints stiff, her feet squishing in soaked shoes. The paper in her pocket was falling apart but the dream was not.
Ahead of her were strangers. Streets she didn't know. Lights she hadn't yet touched.
Behind her?
Silence.
Bruises.
The quiet cruelty of a man who never believed she could become more.
She took a step.
Then another.
Each one a promise. A war cry. A heartbeat.
She had no money. No plan. No place to go.
But she had something stronger than safety.
Hope.
And fury.
"Just keep going," she whispered to herself, her voice shaking but steady. "Don't look back."
Because tonight, she wasn't just running.
She was chasing something.
Chasing a future no one could rip from her hands.
And fate being cruel as it was, had no idea what it had just unleashed.
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