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She didn't scream when he stole her. She couldn't. He didn't ask for permission. He never does. Isla Monroe was a gifted violinist, a woman of grace, mystery, and silence. A traumatic past had taken her voice, leaving her mute since the age of eleven. She lived in shadows, spoke through music, and trusted no one. Until the night she was taken. Dominik Ravencourt: the most feared name in the European underworld. Billionaire, arms dealer, collector of secrets and souls. When a betrayal sets him on a path of vengeance, he doesn't expect to find Isla. Yet, something in her broken silence calls to the predator in him. He claims her as payment. A pawn in his twisted game. But Isla is more than a silent beauty, she's a storm waiting to break. And Dominik is a man ruled by darkness, not mercy. As obsession tangles with desire, Isla and Dominik find themselves trapped in a war of power, lust, and the secrets that silence can bury. She wants freedom. He wants her submission. And neither of them is ready for the truth that could destroy them both. In a world where love is the most dangerous weapon. Can silence save them, or destroy them?
Chapter 1 Owned Without a Whisper
The chains didn't clink.
They were silk, because Dominik Ravencourt never needed noise to assert control. The darkness of the room breathed against the soft light of the chandelier, casting golden shards across the hardwood floor and the trembling body shackled in the centre of the room.
Her.
Isla Monroe sat on her knees, clothed in nothing but the translucent whisper of a silk slip, trembling like a newly lit candle in the wind. Her wrists were bound with crimson satin above her head, fastened to the carved frame of his custom-designed chaise. The kind of restraint that looked delicate... but was merciless.
Her lips parted slightly, as if she might speak.
But she never did.
She couldn't.
Dominik stood before her like a god cloaked in tailored darkness, black shirt unbuttoned to reveal a toned chest marred by a single bullet scar. His face was all sharp jawlines, cold grey eyes, and controlled wrath. He'd built empires, ruined kingdoms, destroyed men. But nothing prepared him for the sound of her silence.
It echoed louder than screams.
"You look like a secret," he murmured, kneeling before her. His fingers brushed the underside of her jaw. She didn't flinch, didn't move. But her pulse betrayed her, fluttering wildly in her neck like a trapped bird. "And I've always had a craving for forbidden things."
Isla's eyes-those soft, ocean-grey pools-flickered with defiance, fear, and something darker. Something she wasn't ready to name. Her mouth was pressed shut, her breath barely audible.
"I could destroy you," Dominik whispered, leaning closer, letting his voice ghost against her skin. "But that wouldn't be nearly as fun as owning you."
He ran his knuckles down her cheek, down the slope of her throat, pausing at the rise of her collarbone. She didn't resist-not physically. But she held herself with a silent tension that stirred him more than screams ever could.
He leaned in closer, lips brushing against the shell of her ear.
"Do you know what turns me on more than begging, Isla?" he asked, voice low and brutal. "Obedience. Silent, terrified, trembling obedience. Just like this."
Her breath caught.
He reached between her thighs, slipping his fingers along the edge of her silk slip, dragging it higher.
Isla didn't protest. She didn't cry. Her silence was her protest- and it made his blood roar.
"You want to hate me, don't you?" he rasped, now baring her fully. "But hate is a sound. And you..." His hand cupped her slowly, deliberately, forcing her legs apart as he kissed the side of her throat, lips barely touching her skin. "You're so beautifully quiet."
A low groan escaped his throat when he felt the heat of her core. She was already wet.
Her cheeks flushed crimson.
"Oh, my little songbird," Dominik growled, slipping a finger inside her, curling it slowly, deep. "You're drenched for me, and you haven't made a single sound."
Her back arched involuntarily, lips parting-but still, no words came. No gasps. No moans. Just trembling silence and the soft, slick sounds of submission.
He leaned forward, kissing her collarbone, then her breasts, letting his teeth graze over her nipple until it hardened in response. He sucked it into his mouth slowly, watching her eyes widen, her body quiver.
"I want to ruin you without ever hearing your voice," he whispered against her chest. "I want you to scream in silence."
She looked down at him, her breath shallow, rapid.
But she didn't resist.
She couldn't.
And part of her didn't want to.
Dominik stood again, undoing the rest of his buttons, letting his pants fall. He was already hard, thick, throbbing with need as he stroked himself, watching her eyes lower-shame and desire twisted together like ribbons.
"Look at me," he commanded softly.
She did.
"This is what silence does to me," he murmured. "And now... I'm going to let you feel it."
He slid inside her in one deep thrust- his growl ripping from his throat as her body welcomed him, tight and slick and sinful. Her head fell back, mouth open in a gasp she didn't voice, eyes wide with heat.
He moved inside her with brutal grace-slow, punishing strokes that pulled moans from his lips even if she made none. He kissed her, sucked her lip between his teeth, bit down just hard enough to make her feel owned.
And she did.
Every thrust claimed her. Every kiss branded her. Every curl of his fingers around her hips carved his name into her skin without ink or voice.
"I'm not asking for your permission," he grunted, slamming deeper, harder. "But one day... you'll beg me. Not with words. With need."
She arched beneath him, sweat beading on her skin, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes. Not from pain. From release. From surrender. From being touched in a place even words couldn't reach.
He felt her climax building in silence- her body bucking, clenching, fighting for air she didn't dare moan through.
"Come for me, Isla," he growled, thrusting deeper.
And she did.
Silently. Shattering.
Her body convulsed around him, back arching, wrists straining against the silk restraints as a broken whimper escaped her throat sound that wasn't a sound at all, just air, trembling.
It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.
He held her afterwards, unbinding her wrists, stroking her hair as she curled into his chest.
Dominik wasn't gentle by nature.
But something in her silence made him want to be more than a monster.
Just for a moment.
Just for her.
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