SCARRED ROSES, BURNING VENGEANCE

Eleanor's POV

SLAP!

The impact and sound of Damian's palm hit my cheek with such force that I tumbled backwards. For a moment, my vision became blurry, and a strong pain ran through my face. The world around me turned around, the big chandeliers above turning into streaks of gold. Gasps filled the ballroom, followed by a suffocating and usual silence that felt like a heavy weight pressing down on me.

I pressed my fingers to my burning cheek, the sting only adding to my pain. While my ears rang from the blow tingle, the pounding of my heart was even louder. This couldn't be real. This couldn't possibly be happening to me.

Damian Blackwood, my husband, my love, my everything, stood before me, his gaze filled with cold, unyielding fury, just like that of the dagger.

"You ungrateful whore! You bastard" he roared, his voice moving through my entire being.

I recoiled at the venom in his words. My lips twisted, trying to defend myself, but my throat felt dry and my mind was a blank and sorry slate.

The grand ballroom of the Blackwood Estate was packed with the city's elite wealthy businessmen, influential politicians, and high-society figures all of them were staring at me, their expressions filled with judgment and hate. The celebration was supposed to honour our anniversary, a night to honour our love. But love had vanished at that moment.

Because tonight, love had turned into betrayal, and that hurt.

Damian held my wrist, drawing me closer with a firm grip that felt like it could crush my bone into pieces. "How dare you make me look foolish?" His fingers dug painfully into my skin like a lion's claw.

Desperately, I shook my head. "Damian, please, I don't get it! What are you talking about?" My voice shook, barely above a whisper.

He let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "You don't get it? Perhaps this will jog your memory, you stupid idiot."

Turning to his right, my stomach dropped as Vincent Moreau, Damian's closest associate and friend, stepped forward. His sharp, predatory look shined with satisfaction as he handed Damian a thick envelope. Damian tore it open and revealed a series of glossy naughty photographs.

He throws them to the floor at my feet.

I looked down, and the ground beneath me seemed to crumble.

There I was, Eleanor Sinclair Blackwood captured in various naughty images. But the woman in those pictures wasn't me. She was in a hotel room, too close to another man's body, to furking close, smiling, resting on his shoulder. In one photo, my hand rested against his chest, caressing it; in another, our lips were almost touching each other.

A wave of icy and cold terror washed over me. "No... this can't be true!" I gasped for breath. "This is fabricated, Damian! I promise you!"

But he wasn't listening to me. He had already made up his mind.

"You make me sick," Damian spat, his once passionate eyes now void of emotion. "You were carrying another man's child while pretending to be my wife in my own home."

His words cut through me like a knife. I stumbled back, shaking my head unsteadily. "No, I would never do that"

Vincent sighed with exaggerated disappointment. "Tsk, tsk, Eleanor. Lying at this point is simply sad." He shook his head, smirking. "We have witnesses. The hotel manager saw you check-in. The staff verified it was you."

Desperation moved inside me as I faced him. "You're lying! You set this up! You framed me!"

Vincent just smirked. "Prove it."

As my hands trembled, I reached for Damian. "You know me. You love me. You know I would never betray you!"

But Damian recoiled as if my touch burned him.

"You're no wife of mine," he said, his voice cold and firm. "You mean nothing to me."

The pain that followed was far worse than the slap. Far worse than all of his accusations. Because Damian wasn't just ending our marriage he was erasing me from his life entirely.

"Throw her out," he commanded.

Before I could understand what was happening, the guards moved forward. Strong hands seized me, dragging me toward the exit.

"Damian, please!" I cried out, struggling against them. "Just listen to me! I swear, I never betrayed you!"

But he turned his back on me.

He didn't even glance back as they led me away.

*****

The door was closed behind me, and the chill and freeze of the night air brushed my unprotected skin like needles. My body was shaking from the cold, the shock, and the crushing realization that my world had just been dismantled, that my life had just been destroyed.

I stood outside the grand estate, my vision fading by unshed tears.

My life had been torn away.

I had no money, no family, no home.

The dress I wore, a custom piece that Damian had once admired on me, now felt like a cruel mockery. My hair was rough, and my face was swollen from tears and humiliation.

The rain began to fall light at first, then heavier, soaking me all through.

I couldn't move.

I had nowhere to go.

A sickening twist in my stomach served as a bitter reminder that I wasn't alone in this.

I placed a hand on my lower belly.

Our baby.

I had planned to tell Damian tonight. I had rehearsed the words over and over. But instead of sharing what should have been the happiest news of our lives, I had been discarded like trash, the pain...

I inhaled sharply, forcing myself to stand tall and still.

I needed to think. I needed to

A sharp clicking sound broke the silence.

Footsteps.

I turned just as a black SUV pulled up. The tinted windows rolled down, revealing Vincent's smirking face.

"Need a ride, sweetheart?" His voice filled with mockery.

I stepped back instantly. "Stay away from me you bastard."

He laughed lightly. "Now, now, is that any way to speak to the man who just helped ruin your life?"My nails dug into my palms out of frustration. "Why are you doing this?"

Vincent leaned against the window, his smirk widening. "Because, Eleanor... I wanted to witness the moment you will finally fall."

Rage moved within me, but before I could respond, the back door of the SUV swung open. Two masked men came outside. Panic flooded through me. I turned to run.

But it was too late. One of them seized my wrist, pulling me back.

I screamed, kicking and thrashing, but they overpowered me. One of them pressed a cloth over my mouth, the sharp, sickly scent invading my senses.

Darkness covered my vision. Damian, I thought faintly, before my world slipped into darkness....

Eleanor's POV

I woke up to a sharp pain all over my body. A piercing strong pain, heart-wrenching pain ran through me like wild harmeterrm fire. My arms lay motionless and unmoved. My legs felt as though they were made of lead and steel. My mouth was dried, my lips cracked, and I was bleeding profusely.

I attempted to blink, yet the world remained an unstable haze of shadow and dime light. The ache in my head was so overwhelming that I thought for a fleeting moment I might be dead by now.

But I wasn't. As much as I wished I were.

The instant my vision sharpened, I saw them. And that's when hell truly began....

******

I found myself sleeping helplessly on a strong concrete floor; my hands were tied behind me, and my body was weakened from hunger and exhaustion. The odour in the air was unbearable sweat, urine, poo, something putrid and irritating.

And then I saw them. Three men.Filthy, obese, ugly stupid men.

Their gaze ran over my body like insects, their laughter low and disgusting.

"Finally awake, huh?" One of them mocked, taking a step closer. His breath was a mix of alcohol and something sour, something smelly. "Thought we lost you, woman."

I tried to move, to push myself up, but my muscles refused to respond. My stomach twisted agonizingly.

The second man moved near me, tracing my face with his fingers. I recoiled, spit rising in my throat.

"Soft," he whispered. "I bet she screams beautifully."

I bit my tongue hard enough to taste blood. I would not give them the satisfaction of a scream.

Not for them.Not for anyone.

The third man, the largest of the idiots, unzipped his pants. My heart raced violently against my chest.

No.Not this.

I struggled against my restraints, but my body was too weak, my limbs unresponsive. The cold floor brushed beneath me, and the smell of urine filled the air.

Panic ran through my throat.

I wasn't strong enough.

Not yet.

But I would be....

"Think she'll fight?" the first man chuckled, stepping over me like I was dust.

I clenched my teeth, my body trembling with fury, pure anger.

"She's too weak now," the second one said. "She's been out for two days. No food, no water. She'll break easily."They had one thing right I was weak.

But breaking? HELL NO That would never happen.

The largest one approached, his boots scraping against the concrete dirty floor. Then, without warning, he urinated on me.

I gasped as the warm stream soaked through my tattered clothing, the humiliation heating me more than any physical pain ever could, or humiliation. Laughter echoed around the room.

All I could do was lie there, defenceless, as they degraded me like an animal like I was some sought-after useless dirty piglet.

Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I refused to let them fall, I will never appear weak. Crying wouldn't change a thing either.

It would only embolden them, only make them feel special. And I wouldn't give them that pleasure NEVER!

*****

The first man, with yellowed teeth and greasy hair, seized my chin, forcing my head up.

"Not going to beg, sweetheart?" he mocked. "Not even a little?"I spat on his ugly-looking face. His smirk twisted into a snarl. "Bitch."

He slapped me harshly, the impact ringing in my ears and sending me crashing against the cold, dirty floor. The second man cackled. "She's got some fight in her."

"Not for long."

They weren't finished with me.

The second man knelt next to me, pulling at my hair and dragging my head back. His fingers trailed down my body, slow and deliberate.

"I say we enjoy ourselves before the boss arrives."

I froze.

Vincent.

Their boss.

The man who had engineered my downfall, the one who had destroyed my life, that bastard, he has made me suffer. Rage, hot and blinding, twisted in my stomach.

They assumed I was defenseless. They thought I had nothing left. But they were mistaken.

Because even if I possessed nothing else, I still had hate. And hate was a formidable weapon.

The door swung open with a thunderous bang. The men recoiled like startled rodents, their hands instantly leaving my body.

A new figure entered the room, cold and far more threatening than the scum that had been tormenting me.

Vincent Moreau.

Tall. Sharp-eyed. Putting on a perfectly tailored suit, as if he hadn't just stepped into a den of filth and cruelty, that furkin bastard. He radiated power, authority, and a steady and deadly posture that required no fanfare.

It simply existed.

His gaze landed on me, taking in my disheveled state, the urine-drenched clothing, the bruises.

Then he sighed.

"Idiots," he muttered. "Did I give you permission to touch her?"

The men tensed.

"But boss, we"

Vincent's eyes snapped to the man who spoke, and he fell silent. Vincent didn't need to shout.

He didn't need to threaten. His mere gaze was enough to command.

"You don't touch what belongs to me," he stated, his voice smooth and calm. "Especially not when we have a buyer interested."My stomach twisted.

A buyer?

A new wave of dread washed over me. They weren't merely holding me here for torture. They were selling me off.

Vincent stepped closer, standing beside me. He wasn't like the others. He didn't leer. He didn't touch.

He simply observed.

"You've lasted longer than I anticipated," he murmured. "Interesting."I remained silent. I wouldn't grant him the satisfaction of my fear.

He smirked. "You'll make someone very happy."Something within me snapped. I lunged at him.

Even in my weakened and desperate condition, I moved swiftly, teeth bared, triggered by sheer, seething rage.

I managed to grip his throat for one glorious moment. Then pain exploded in my ribs. Vincent's fist struck my side, knocking the breath from my lungs.

I collapsed, gasping for breath, my vision blurring. Vincent straightened his suit with a sigh. "You're going to be a problem, aren't you?"

I spat blood at his feet. "Go to hell."His smirk widened. "Oh, darling. I am hell."He turned to his men.

"Clean her up," he ordered. "The buyer wants her looking... presentable."Then, without another word, he left.

Just like that, I had transformed from a person to a property. But what Vincent didn't know, what none of them knew was that I wasn't a property.

I wasn't some broken little girl to be sold off. I was a storm. And storms aren't sold. They wreak havoc....

Eleanor's POV

I didn't go down without a fight. I kicked and screamed, struggling against the chains restraining my wrists as Vincent's dogs dragged me down the shadowy hallway. The iron cuffs bruised my skin, the chains twisting with each step.

But that didn't matter. They had taken everything from me. They would not break my spirit. Whatever lay ahead, they would pay for their actions, they would surely pay.

******

The dark and shabby, underground chamber was filled with the scent of cigars and pricey cologne. Heavily furnished, with expensive curtains and caged chandeliers casting sinister shadows over the faces of influential men gathered to bid.

I had heard rumors of such places before, a place where humans are being sold. Where women were treated as mere objects, like pieces of thrash.

Where predators in tailored suits drink expensive whiskey while bargaining for human lives. At the heart of it all stood Vincent Moreau, that bastard, the man who destroyed me.

He remained beside me, calm and collected, as though he was not auctioning off a human being like he hadn't allowed his men to disgrace me before putting me onto this platform.

"This one," Vincent declared, his tone smooth and steady. "A rare gem. Once the cherished wife of Damian Blackwood."A murmur spread through the crowd.

Some men leaned in, curiosity shown on their faces. Others smirked, casually sipping their drinks, waiting for a more enticing offer from him.

Vincent grinned. "She's been... well-conditioned. But," he turned to me, holding my chin with his fingers, "she's got fire in her. Unbroken. That makes her invaluable."I jerked my face away, glaring at him. "Burn in hell."

Laughter rippled through the audience. Vincent merely smiled. "Now, let the bidding commence."

And then I saw him. In the dim corner of the room, partially filled in darkness. He radiated power. I sensed it from the way others shifted uneasily when his piercing blue gaze swept over them. His face was unreadable, yet there was a strong aura about him.

Then our eyes locked into each other. Recognition flickered across his features. His gaze swept over the scars on my arms, the nearly healed wounds.

And at that moment, I understood. He had witnessed suffering like mine before. Because he had survived the same torment.

*****

"Five million," a voice called out."Seven," another quickly replied.

Vincent leaned back, revelling in the spectacle. "Gentlemen, let's not dilly-dally. Who among you is eager to possess something truly priceless as this?"

"Ten million."The room fell silent and void of noise.

That voice belonged to the man in the shadows. All eyes turned toward him, and for the first time, Vincent's confident smile showed.

I watched, my heart racing unsteadily.

"Mr. Kieran Lancaster," Vincent responded cautiously, "you've caught me off guard."That name rang a bell.

Kieran Lancaster the dangerous billionaire who had built a big empire from scratch. Ruthless, feared, untouchable.

A phantom in the world of business.And now, the man who had just bought me. Vincent's smirk faded, tension creeping into his demeanor. "Going once, going twice"

"No one will challenge me?" Kieran's tone was steady, yet an undercurrent of authority flowed through, he was indeed powerful and feared.

Silence.

The air was filled with anticipation."Sold," Vincent finally announced, but his amusement had vanished. Something had changed. And Vincent was not pleased.

The instant they unshackled me, I lashed out. I moved and kicked one of Vincent's guards, sending him staggering backwards. Another seized me, but I elbowed him hard in the ribs and the mouth, forcing him to gasp for breath.

I bolted and twisted. Or at least I tried to fight those bastards, those people who don't have human feelings.

Before I could reach the exit, a powerful arm wrapped around my waist, dragging me back.

I screamed, kicking and thrashing, my nails digging into flesh.

"Let me go!"You belong to me now." The voice was deep and scary.

Not Vincent.The buyer.Kieran Lancaster. I fought fiercely. "I am not yours! I am not an object!"

"Then behave like it," he said, tightening his grip. "And I may allow you to live."Before I could reply, he carried me on his shoulder as if I weighed nothing.

I shouted curses, kicking wildly as he carried me past Vincent and the grinning vultures who had observed the auction.

I refused to stop fighting. Not now.Not ever.

****

The car ride was filled with tension. I sat in the backseat, my wrists tied again, my body painting from the struggle. Kieran Lancaster faced me across the seat, just observing me like it was an experiment to be tested. I wanted to break the silence and demand explanations, but I wouldn't show weakness.

So I glared instead. He smirked. "You have quite a temper."I chose silence."You'll need to calm down if you want to survive."

A sharp laugh escaped me. "Why would I care about survival huh?"His expression stayed unreadable, unmoved. "You should."

"Why?" I shot back. "You paid ten million for me. What are you after? A slave? A plaything? Go ahead and try. I dare you, bastard."

His eyes darkened. "You think I need to purchase women?"

I clenched my jaw. Then, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, his calm voice concealed a dangerous edge.

"I don't desire your body, Eleanor Sinclair."My stomach twisted. He knew my real name.

Not the broken woman Vincent had attempted to market. I masked my surprise with indifference. "Then what do you want?"

He shook his head slightly. "I want a wife."Silence fell. I stared at him, expecting a punchline.

When none materialized, I laughed deliberately. "You're delusional, dreaming."His lips curled into a faint smile. "Maybe."I narrowed my eyes. "Why me?"

His gaze pierced mine, unfazed."Because I understand your desires." He replied slightly. "Revenge."

Chills ran down my body and soul. Kieran's voice was smooth yet firm and strong. "You want to destroy Damian Blackwood. You yearn to destroy Vincent Moreau." His fingers drummed on the armrest. "And I can provide you with the means to do it."

I fought to maintain my blank expression, but my heart raced. He knew. Somehow, he knew.

Kieran assessed me before delivering the final blow.

"Play the role of my wife for one year, and I'll help you take them both down."Air caught in my throat. My fists clenched so hard.

Many days of clawing my way back from hell. Days driven solely by revenge. And now, a man I hardly knew was offering me the one thing I had yearned for.

An opportunity to end them.But at what price? I met Kieran Lancaster's cold, calculating gaze.

And for the first time since being thrust into this nightmare, I wasn't sure if I had escaped one monster...Only to walk directly into the arms of another....