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Art of Torment: A Captive's Defiance

Chapter 4 

Word Count: 895    |    Released on: 01/07/2025

ecked my vitals. He was one of Marcus' s men, a former fie

," he said, his voice laced with clinical concern. "Given her hi

s arms crossed, a storm of suspici

final. "You will treat her here. Bring what

ed. "As you wi

ouldn' t risk me being out of his sight, not e

ne solution-I let my eyes flutter shut. I began to mutter

promised... the b

I knew would resonate with him. I was planting seeds of do

feel his presence, his intense focus. "Wha

smoothly. "It' s common. The mind

I knew the name would strike him. It was the founda

the performance, letting my breathing become shallow. The heart monitor, a device Ma

exander' s iron control. "Wha

minister a stabilizer," the doctor said,

xander demanded, grab

r lied, looking Alexander straight in the eye. "If we don' t

g me, his prized possession, was more than he cou

e life-saving drug, he leaned close to m

He' s moving up the date. It' s

a frantic rhythm that had nothing to

. The beeping on the monitor slowed to a steady, normal pace. "

He looked utterly defeated. He was so consumed by his fear of

mething he couldn't ignore. The moment he was gone, the doctor returned. It was

for," he said, a smile playing on his lips. He sa

ngs are real," I replied, sittin

tray strand of hair behind my ear. His touch was cold. "When this is o

away, my

that. You get your revenge and control of Vance' s comp

itation in his eyes before he masked

s terrified. He thinks you'

him, I heard a sound from

xan

of a man' s voice in my room, had heard my own clear, awake tone. His panic, however, was now so profound t

the brink of losing the one thing he believed kept him whole. It was the

-

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Art of Torment: A Captive's Defiance
Art of Torment: A Captive's Defiance
“The cold, sharp edges of the resin necklace dug into my skin, a constant, physical reminder of Alexander Vance' s twisted grasp. Just hours ago, I, Scarlett Hayes, had almost tasted freedom, only to be dragged back to this gilded cage. He didn't yell, he never did, not at first; his silence was always more terrifying than any scream. "Why do you keep trying to leave?" he would ask, his voice a smooth vibration that set my teeth on edge, entirely oblivious to the torment he inflicted. I longed to tell him that his control was suffocating, or that the fractured pieces of my destroyed art embedded in the necklace were a constant agony. Instead, I met his gaze with a defiant chin, "Maybe I like the exercise." But Alexander Vance was never fooled, not the man who saw me only as a broken bird to be possessed. My wrist still carried the faint scar from the day he broke my drawing hand, a brutal lesson in his twisted love. "Don' t lie to me," he whispered, his thumb pressing down on the mark, "You met with someone. You think there' s a single breath you take in this city that I' m not aware of?" The accusation hung thick and suffocating; he was right – I met Marcus Thorne, his rival, my only hope for escape. But what if my hope was just another cage? What if the man I thought was my savior was just as monstrous and possessive as my captor, seeing me not as a person, but as a prize to be won? The question gnawed at me with chilling certainty, just weeks before Alexander' s grand "Aion Project" launch, a monument built on the ruin of my family' s dreams. This elaborate trap, this calculated play for freedom, was not just about survival anymore. It was about discovering how deep the treachery went.”
1 Introduction2 Chapter 13 Chapter 24 Chapter 35 Chapter 46 Chapter 57 Chapter 68 Chapter 79 Chapter 810 Chapter 911 Chapter 10