Ivy Bright has always believed that a smile can fix anything - even when life keeps proving her wrong. Stuck in a cold mansion with a neglectful mother and a cruel stepfather, she scrubs floors and hides her pain behind a cheerful mask, convinced th...
Also shoutout to all those voting and commenting, this chapter dedicated to all of you!! I am sad I can't tag everyone here. I love you alot!!!😭❤️
I appreciate all the silent readers too, my goal is to make my book enjoyable to Y'all. Soo no matter what your engagement is, as long as you are satisfied I am happy. :))
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
_________________________ Ivy's POV
I knew they were coming. Even with the chaos hammering through my veins, I held on to one thing—my brothers would be here.
But time— Time wasn't something I had.
The man dragging me was fast. Every second he moved felt like three stolen from me. I couldn't see his face. Just the disgusting scent of sweat, the rust of metal, and the black jacket brushing my arms as I fought against him.
The gravel behind the canteen scraped under my boots. My hands clawed at him, nails finding nothing but layers of fabric. I twisted, stomped, yanked my body out of rhythm—
And then came the slap.
My neck snapped sideways from the force, the sting blooming along my jaw.
My breath caught. I screamed as the pain registered, but so did the anger. I looked around to see if anyone can hear me.
Fuck no one is going to hear me, the match is on the opposite of this school. No one will come for atleast next hour.
"Touch me again," I hissed, voice cracked but steady, "and you'll be dead before you even see them. My brothers are going to find you."
He said nothing. But his grip tightened.
He reached the black car parked behind the dumpsters, shoved the passenger door open with one hand while yanking me toward it with the other. My shoes scraped against the concrete. I kicked against his shins, twisted my body until my shoulder popped. I didn't care. Pain meant I was fighting.
But just as he was about to stuff me into the seat—SCREEEECH.
Tires shrieked, rubber burning into the ground, headlights slicing through the yard. Black SUVs, matte finish, windows rolled down, engines still growling like beasts unchained.
My brothers.
"Massim—!" I screamed, just as the man wrapped his arm around my neck and yanked me back against him. His other hand reached inside his jacket.
I froze.
Then I felt the cold press of metal against my ribs. A gun.
Deja vu of Felipe but this man is much more aggressive and angry.
