Chapter 7 - Stab
I drew in a steadying breath, my fingers trembling against the cool brass of the door handle. The weight of what I was about to say hung heavy in my chest like a stone. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pushed the door open and stepped into Luther’s office.
He was leaning back against a leather chair, his head tilted slightly, eyes closed. But even in rest, he looked anything but peaceful. A deep furrow carved between his brows, his jaw locked in tension, as if he were bracing for war—even in silence.
Something was bothering him. Something he didn’t want anyone to see.
What’s happening to him?
I took a step closer, unable to stop myself from observing him—trying to read the storm behind his carefully composed exterior.
Then his voice lashed through the still air.
“Knock before entering my office,” he snapped, eyes still closed, his tone sharp as a blade.
I flinched at the suddenness, but my jaw clenched in response. I refused to be scared of him. Not anymore.
“I’m your wife,” I shot back coldly.
His eyes snapped open.
They found mine immediately, piercing through me like twin shards of ice. He didn’t blink. Didn’t move. His gaze drilled straight into my soul as if he were searching for the tiniest crack in my resolve.
“It changes nothing,” he said after a beat, voice like frost. He straightened in his chair, folding his arms. “I assume you've made your decision.”
I hesitated.
The words caught in my throat, but I forced them out before I could change my mind.
“I…” My voice faltered. I took a deep breath. “I’m ready to sleep with you.”
The room shifted with silence.
Then one corner of his lips curled into a slow, arrogant smirk. A smirk that made my skin crawl.
“Good,” he murmured. “A wise decision.”
I stared at him, unable to stop the bitter taste rising in my throat. I wanted to scream. To spit in his face. I would never give myself to this monster—not truly. But he didn’t need to know that. Not yet.
Because I had something planned. Something that would shatter his world. He just didn’t know it yet.
Luther stood slowly, every movement deliberate. He walked toward me with the lazy confidence of a predator circling his prey. His eyes devoured me without shame, stripping away every layer of defiance I tried to wear.
I wanted to back away. My body screamed to run. But my feet remained frozen.
When he stood right in front of me, he reached out and gently brushed a few strands of hair from my face. His touch was soft—deceptively gentle for a man with such cruelty in his heart.
“You’re so fragile,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “Soft… like the petal of a rose.”
I sucked in a shaky breath, and goosebumps broke across my skin as his rough fingers ghosted across my lower lip. My lips parted involuntarily at the touch.
Then he leaned closer, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “You know… I like sex a little rougher.”
My heart stuttered in my chest, and shame flooded me as heat stirred deep inside me.
I hated this. Hated the way my body betrayed me under his voice, under his scent, under his overwhelming presence.
Luther inhaled deeply, his nose brushing my hair. “You smell so fucking good,” he growled, almost to himself.
I recoiled, taking a step back with disgust hardening in my chest.
“Do you want to take me here?” I asked, my voice bitter and laced with venom.
He laughed—a dark, amused sound. “I wish I could take you right here on this desk,” he said, voice rich and cruel. “But I doubt you could handle it. I want to fuck you… not break you.”
I swallowed hard, my hands balling into fists.
Before I could respond, his expression shifted slightly, becoming more focused.
“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” he said suddenly, turning back to his desk and picking up his phone.
I blinked in confusion. “What?”
He ignored me as he dialed. “Yeah,” he said into the phone, “in my office. Right away.”
Minutes passed, heavy and silent. I didn’t dare move.
Then—a knock.
“You can come in, Cassius,” Luther called, flipping open a file and scanning it without lifting his head.
The door creaked open, and a tall man stepped inside. My eyes widened slightly as I took him in. He wore a fitted black T-shirt that hugged his broad chest and black jeans that hinted at strength and confidence. His arms were tattooed, his face chiseled, and his icy blue eyes flicked to mine only for a second before turning back to Luther.
“Luther,” he greeted, voice deep and calm.
“Noelle,” Luther said my name, making me glance at him instinctively.
He met my eyes with a cold glint. “Meet Cassius. He’s going to keep his eye on you twenty-four-seven.”
My brows furrowed. “I don’t want a bodyguard.”
“He’s not your bodyguard, darling,” Luther drawled. “I said he’ll watch you. To make sure you don’t pull another one of your little stunts.”
He pointed to my wedding ring.
“That ring might say ‘wife,’ but it doesn’t change what we are. You’re still the enemy. And I couldn’t care less if you live or die,” he sneered. “You’re here for one reason: your brother’s debts. You’ll stay here and do what you’re told until I get my woman back.”
His woman. Winnifred Devito.
So that’s what this all comes down to.
“Now,” he added with a smirk, “Cassius will escort you to buy some beautiful lingerie… for our wedding night.”
My cheeks flamed. Humiliation crawled under my skin like fire ants.
How could he say that—in front of a stranger? What would this Cassius think of me? Of all the things I had become?
I bit down on my lip and dropped my gaze. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. I had to keep playing along. I had to get what I came for.
“Now, you can go,” Luther said, already flipping through the pages of a file. “I have some matters to discuss with Cassius.”
I turned toward the door, glancing briefly at Cassius.
He was tall, quiet, unreadable. His expression didn’t flicker. Just a statue of control.
He was supposed to keep his eye on me—but I smiled slightly as I stepped out.
He wouldn’t be able to stop what was coming. None of them could.
I walked briskly toward the kitchen, my heart thudding with purpose. Mary was there, humming to herself while stirring something fragrant.
I needed to act soon. The clock was ticking.
And the monster in that office had no idea what storm was coming for him.
"Hey, Mary," I said softly, entering the kitchen where the scent of freshly baked goods lingered in the air.
Mary looked up from the counter where she was slicing brownies, her face pale and drawn with nerves. “Noelle…” Her voice held a quiet tremble.
“Are you worried about our plan?” I asked, guilt gnawing at my chest. I shouldn't have involved her in this, dragged her into the chaos of my revenge. But what other choice did I have? This place—this man—was suffocating me. I needed out. And this was the only way.
Mary gave me a tight, worried smile. “A little,” she admitted. “But I’ve done my part. I put the pills in the brownies. They’ll be asleep in an hour.”
I nodded and exhaled slowly. The guards adored her desserts, especially the rich chocolate brownies she made every Friday. She’d worked in this mansion for five years—enough time to learn their patterns, their vices, and their weaknesses. She knew the timing of their patrols, their favorite hiding spots, and even which of them always asked for seconds.
And now, she’d helped me turn that knowledge into a weapon.
“Do you remember where to stab him?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Yes,” I answered, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Just under his abdomen. On the left side.”
Mary nodded solemnly. She’d told me about the wound Luther had—old but still healing. I didn’t know how he got it, but it was my only chance to incapacitate him. I was small compared to him, weaker physically, but a precise strike might be enough to drop him. My fingers trembled slightly. I’d never hurt anyone before, not like this. But this man... he had stolen my freedom. Threatened my family. Broken me.
He deserved it.
Later that night...
I stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing myself.
The white lingerie clung to my skin like a second, sinful layer. It was expensive and lacy, almost see-through, chosen by Cassius earlier today. My makeup was flawless, my lips painted the color of crushed rose petals, my cheeks flushed with nervous color. My hair tumbled down my shoulders in soft, seductive waves.
I looked... irresistible. Like a doll carved for pleasure.
But I felt cold. My hands were clammy with fear, and my heart pounded in my chest like a war drum.
Snowflakes tapped softly against the windowpane as I stared out into the night, watching the forest in the distance, the same forest I planned to disappear into before dawn.
Suddenly, the door creaked open behind me. I didn’t turn around, but I could see his reflection in the glass—Luther. Bare-chested, wearing only dark trousers that sat low on his hips. His body was powerful, carved muscle and dangerous grace. His expression was unreadable as he closed the door behind him.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
He moved closer until I could feel the heat of his body against my back. My breath hitched as his strong hands slid around my waist, and his mouth brushed against the curve of my neck.
“As expected... you look delicious.”
I shut my eyes, bracing myself. His lips touched my neck—soft at first, then rougher, as he licked a trail down my skin. His hand slid down my back and slipped under the thin band of my panties.
A sharp gasp escaped my lips.
“You’re already wet,” he whispered, his breath hot in my ear. “That body of yours knows who it belongs to.”
His words made me burn with shame and fury. But my body, traitorous and confused, arched toward his touch. My skin was hypersensitive under his rough fingers as he slid one, then two fingers inside me, moving with practiced, dominant control.
“Luther…” I gasped, trying to pull away, but he held me tight, his erection pressing against my lower back.
“Come for me, Noelle,” he growled, thrusting his fingers harder. “Let me feel you fall apart.”
My legs trembled. My hands gripped the windowsill as my mind spun between desire and dread. Then, just as I thought I might lose control completely—ding. A faint sound. The signal.
Mary’s signal.
Now.
I forced my eyes open, heart slamming against my ribs. With trembling fingers, I reached for the knife I’d hidden earlier behind the vase on the nightstand.
He was too caught up to notice.
I spun around, my eyes meeting his lust-drunk gaze.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and then—I plunged the knife into his stomach.
Time stopped.
His body jerked violently, eyes wide with disbelief. For a second, he looked more stunned than hurt. Then came the pain. He let out a deep, guttural sound as he stared down at the blade buried in his abdomen.
I twisted it. He hissed sharply, and blood gushed out, hot and red, staining my lingerie.
His expression shattered—confusion, betrayal, then rage.
“You bitch!” he spat, gripping my wrist so hard I cried out. He yanked the blade from his body and staggered backward, clutching the bleeding wound.
Then, in a violent fury, he shoved me against the wall, pressing his bloodied body against mine.
“You want to betray me?” he hissed. “Then I’ll mark you as mine.”
He dragged the blade between my breasts, slicing my bra in two. I gasped, horrified, as he streaked his own blood across my bare skin, staining my nipples with it.
Then—he leaned down and sucked hard on my breast, growling like a wounded animal. His body was trembling now, shaking from blood loss, but he refused to fall.
“I’ll kill you,” he rasped, his breath hot on my skin. “I swear to God, I’ll kill you for this.”
But his strength was failing. His grip slackened. His knees buckled.
And then—his full weight collapsed on me. I cried out as I stumbled under him, his blood soaking through both our bodies. His face fell against my chest, and I could hear his heartbeat—wild, then slow, then… fading.
The door burst open.
“Jesus Christ!” Mary shouted, rushing into the room. Her eyes widened in horror at the scene—Luther’s limp body, the blood, my half-naked form stained with crimson.
“Get away from him! Now! We don’t have time!”
I tried, but he was too heavy. Panic rose in my throat.
Suddenly, a tall man entered the room—someone I didn’t recognize. My heart nearly stopped.
“Mary?” I choked out.
“He’s my nephew. He’s here to help you.”
Relief washed over me like a wave. He rushed to my side, pried Luther off me, and helped me to my feet. I grabbed a robe, wrapping it around my trembling body.
I was about to leave when something tugged at my ankle.
“Don’t… go…” Luther’s voice, weak and barely coherent, made me freeze.
I looked back.
His eyes fluttered open, blood still pouring from his wound, but there was something in his gaze—something broken.
I bent down and pulled my leg free.
“Goodbye, Luther,” I whispered.
Then I turned and ran, barefoot and breathless, leaving behind the monster and the mansion.
I had my freedom.
But I didn’t leave without scars.
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