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Bound To The Ruthless Billionaire Captor

Author: Evvie Foreman

Chapter 1

Word Count: 775 | Released on: Today at 11:03

ork whipped through the grand

fingers twisted the fabric of her black dress s

e head butler, muttered. He snapped

Jocelyn's instinct to st

black Rolls-Royce Phantom crushed the fallen maple leaves bene

the mansion b

led the rear door open. A pair of polished, c

epped into the

d shoulders. He stripped off his wool overcoat an

nd hall. Every maid and staff me

he stared fixedly at the

, with lethal precision, on the thin figure trembling in

ng. His long legs closed the d

eps echoed like

ocelyn. The sharp scent of cedar cologne

e tremor. She tried to swallow the dry s

is jaw tightened. Her absolute terror of him

d forefinger, calloused and unfo

ed her

were deep, freezing pools of dark water. She sa

agged across her pale b

ned instantly

oice, a low baritone laced with the clipped tones of old

ce pierced her che

a pathetic, broken w

rip on her jaw tightened, pressing hard enoug

s lips brushed the

pered, "it is time for you to sta

sical blow to the stomach. The blood d

mble backward. A flicker of frustration crossed hi

d his ba

"Prepare the second-floor

, sir," the

ned mice. Jocelyn remained froze

d, took a step forward to su

k so lethal the older w

the grand spiral staircase. Every step he t

s head slightly, his peripheral vision

echoing down the stairs. "Do not step foot ou

ress and ran. She sprinted down the long, dimly lit hallwa

his hand bulged as he gripped the wooden banist

n the second-floor corridor, and sla

shook t

wood until she hit the floor. She pulled her knees to her chest, buried her f

Chapter End

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Bound To The Ruthless Billionaire Captor

Evvie Foreman Romance

“Jocelyn Yang lived in the grand Turner Mansion, not as a guest, but as a prisoner. Ever since her father's death, the ruthless billionaire Elam Turner forced her to atone for sins her father never committed. On her nineteenth birthday, a male classmate secretly sent her a diamond necklace. Elam, who had flown back from London overnight, flew into a psychotic, jealous rage at the sight of another man's gift. He mercilessly crushed the delicate necklace into the marble floor with his custom leather shoe. "Did you forget what you are?" Elam hissed, dragging her into a pitch-black storage room. "You take gifts from other men behind my back?" He pinned her to the dusty floorboards and violently assaulted her. The next morning, a wire transfer of $500,000 hit her bank account. He had humiliated her, broken her spirit, and was now casually trying to buy her silence. Later, when a broken bike left her walking miles through a freezing rainstorm, he just shoved scalding tea into her bleeding hands. "Look at you," he sneered. "You look like a stray dog ruining my floors." Jocelyn curled up in the cold, her lips bleeding and her heart shattered. She couldn't understand his terrifying obsession. If he hated her so much, why did he refuse to let her go? Why did he look at her with such manic hunger while systematically destroying her life? Staring at the massive sum of hush money on her phone, a desperate spark of vengeance flared in her chest. Jocelyn wired every single cent back to Elam's account. She picked up her charcoal pencil, vowing to win the upcoming art competition and buy her escape from this monster forever.”