Bound By Pain: The Billionaire's Captive

The cold rain hit Carole Dawson like a barrage of tiny stones. She slipped on the slick mud, her fingers desperately clawing at the rusted iron bars of the Pennington Estate wall. She threw her weight over the top. Her boots hit the wet ground on the other side. A sharp crack echoed in her ears, followed instantly by a blinding pain shooting up her right ankle. Carole bit the inside of her cheek until she tasted copper. She swallowed the scream that tried to tear out of her throat. She looked back through the iron bars. The main house was a glowing beacon of wealth and suffocation. Eleanora's voice rang in her head, cold and absolute, telling her she was nothing but a bargaining chip for the Cherry family. The frantic barking of hounds cut through the sound of the rain. Flashlight beams sliced through the dark. The guards were closing in. Carole pressed her hand over her mouth and nose. She dragged her injured foot and threw herself into the dense bushes. The thorns tore at her clothes and skin. The rain washed the mud over her tracks, but one of the hounds stopped. It pointed its snout directly at her bush and barked wildly. Her heart hammered against her ribs so hard she thought it might break them. She did not wait for the guards to surround her. Carole burst out of the bushes. She ignored the stabbing pain in her ankle and ran toward the highway. A black SUV sat idling on the shoulder of the road. She raised her hand to scream for help, but the high beams flashed on, blinding her. It was a family car. The heavy door swung open. She couldn't see past the blinding glare of the high beams, but she recognized the distinct splash of expensive leather shoes hitting the muddy puddle. It was Adalberto. She could sense the cruel, asymmetrical smirk twisting his face just from the heavy, arrogant way he stepped toward her. Carole turned to run. Two massive guards grabbed her shoulders. They forced her down. Her knees hit the muddy water with a heavy splash. Adalberto walked up to her. He grabbed a fistful of her wet hair and jerked her head back. "You look like a drowned rat," Adalberto laughed. "Did you really think you could run away?" Carole kept her mouth shut. She reached her hands down into the freezing mud. Her fingers found a sharp, jagged rock. She gripped it tight. Adalberto leaned down. His breath smelled of expensive cigars and malice. "Try fighting me again," he whispered. "And I will make sure your adoptive parents disappear before morning." The fight drained out of Carole. Her chest caved in. Her fingers went numb and the rock slipped back into the mud. Adalberto smirked and adjusted his left cuff. He raised his hand high, ready to slap her across the face. His hand never landed. A massive hand clamped around Adalberto's wrist mid-air. The grip was like an iron vice. The guards froze. Carole opened her eyes. A tall, broad-shouldered man stood in the pouring rain. His face was a mask of pure violence, though he moved with a barely perceptible limp, his jaw tight as if fighting off a persistent, nagging pain in his right ankle. His eyes were dark and lethal. Adalberto screamed. The sound of bones grinding together was loud enough to hear over the storm. Hollis Wall did not blink. He twisted Adalberto's wrist until a loud snap echoed in the air. He kicked Adalberto in the chest, sending him flying backward into the mud. The guards pulled out their stun batons and rushed forward. Hollis did not even look at them. He moved with brutal efficiency, striking throats and knees. Both guards collapsed into the dirt in seconds. Carole stared at the stranger. Rainwater dripped from his sharp jawline. Hollis turned his head and looked down at her. His eyes locked onto the dark bruise forming on her cheek. For a fraction of a second, a muscle in his jaw twitched, and his thumb rubbed hard against his index knuckle. He took off his custom suit jacket. He threw it around Carole's trembling shoulders. The fabric was heavy and smelled of cedar and danger. Adalberto rolled in the mud, clutching his broken wrist. "Let her go!" Adalberto screamed. "She belongs to the Pennington family!" Hollis ignored Adalberto's screams as if they were merely part of the storm, his demeanor completely devoid of any emotion. He bent down and scooped Carole up into his arms, his movements brutally efficient and coldly indifferent to the Pennington heir's threats. Carole kicked her legs, trying to push against his solid chest. The pain in her ankle flared, and her muscles gave out. She was completely exhausted. Hollis carried her to a black Maybach parked further down the road. He shoved her into the back seat and slammed the door shut. The noise of the rain and Adalberto's screaming vanished. The car was warm and dry. K. Sterling sat in the driver's seat. He put the car in gear immediately. Carole pulled her knees to her chest. She watched the dangerous man slide into the seat next to her. Hollis opened a compartment, pulled out a bottle of whiskey, and took a long drink. The veins on the back of his hand bulged. He was breathing heavily, as if he was fighting off a deep, physical pain. Carole stared at his furrowed brow. A strange, unsettling feeling crawled up her spine. The Maybach sped down the dark highway, leaving the Pennington estate far behind. Carole gripped the edges of the suit jacket, her knuckles turning white.