Follow
Chapters
Share
KISS ME KILL ME;HIS ENEMY HIS OBSESSION  Novel Cover

KISS ME KILL ME;HIS ENEMY HIS OBSESSION

In the shadow of a lethal rivalry, a ruthless mafia heir finds himself consumed by a dangerous obsession with the one person he is sworn to destroy. As their blood-soaked worlds collide, a volatile romance ignites between these two enemies, blurring the line between hatred and desire. Every kiss is a gamble and every touch carries a threat of betrayal. In a high-stakes game of power and revenge, will their lethal attraction lead to salvation or a final, fatal end?
Chapters
Share

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Who are you?

Elira's POV

The entire room went silent. The men who surrounded me didn't say anything as the timer rang.

Two minutes over.

“Damnit, I bet on that one.” one of the men on the screen said, frowning at his loss.

Two men from the men surrounding me came forward and dragged the man away by his hands and out of the room. As another came to my front.

He had a mask on like the other man but I couldn't recognise him from his eyes.

He looked like an Asian, even though I haven't had a physical run-in with any Asian.

“You sold my sister,” he said in a low tone, and I just looked at him, shocked.

“Excuse me?” I asked, and he jumped high, kicking me in the face, and I flew across the room, hitting the glass wall with a loud thud.

My head spun as the voices from the TV erupted into cheers.

“I'm glad I bet on this one. Asians sure know how to fight.” A haughty female voice came from the screen as she annoyingly giggled.

I tried to get up, pushing myself up but my head hurt a whole lot that I couldn't see.

I tried again but failed miserably.

I felt someone pull my hair, dragging me back to the circle.

I tried to open my eyes to see who it was, and it was the Asian who accused me of selling his sister.

“I will take your life,” he said.

He didn't seem to know proper English as his sentences were short. He must have illegally come here for work and ended up on the wrong side, which took his sister as collateral for debt.

But how did Tha have anything to do with me?

I could tell from the pain in his eyes, but no records went through me of a girl being sold. I never dabbled in child or human trafficking.

“I didn't sell–” I tried to explain myself but he punched me in the face, making my head ache the most.

I felt like my head would split in two as I held it between my palms.

He yelled as he lunged at me for the third time but this time I rolled over and he kicked the air.

He was getting restless. He wanted to end this quickly.

That was the first mistake he made.

He came up to me and I jumped up to my feet, startling him, so he stepped back. He then stood staring at me for a while, rethinking his next line of action, but he still seemed so restless and that was his second mistake.

When you take time to regroup, you do it to regroup your mental state. He just did nothing at this point but took a step back without reasoning.

He charged at me again and this time, he wasn't cautious.

I stood my ground even though I felt like I would die any moment from exhaustion and grabbed the arm he stretched out in a fist to hit me. I stared him in the eye for a second, then smiled sweetly as I twisted it behind his back and heard his bones crack.

He held in the pain, but I made it worse by stomping hard on the back of his thigh, and that was when he finally let it all out.

He screamed out and tried to get out of my hold but this was one of my favourites. There was no way he could get out.

He began to beg and cry, telling me to let him go.

I leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I will find your sister.”

That made him still as the timer went out.

I let him go and he turned to face me. I nodded and he nodded back, nursing his broken arm.

He stepped back away from me, and in seconds, he was on the floor, face flat with blood pooling from the headshot he had received.

Where had the bullet come from?

I looked around the room with my blurry vision but I couldn't pinpoint it.

None of the men was holding a gun, so how?

I had studied this room a million times so how?!

Is this a win-or-die affair?

I'm impressed by who set this all up.

I chuckled and soon burst out laughing like a madwoman.

“I see. That's how it is? Kill her or be killed! Or is it break or be killed? Why don't you just aim the gun at me and end this? Huh? Why don't you? Cowards, bunch of lowlives gaining pleasure from my pain. I would ruin all of you. Mark my words!” I yelled, turning around to face the camera for the third time that day.

The guests on the TV started laughing at my display. The timer started again and another came forward. The Asian guy had already been dragged away.

“I'm scared,” he muttered, and I finally looked at him.

He looked young, too young to be here. In his late teens. Probably seventeen or eighteen but my question still remained. What was he doing here, and what was the criteria for taking these people?

His hands shook as he walked towards me, trying to attempt a fighting stance.

What had all these people done to deserve being brought here? Apart from that perverted bastard, how many of them didn't deserve this? So I did the only thing I could do to save him.

I stayed still as he approached me.

I took all the punches till I was crawling on the floor and wheezing. His timer went off and he didn't have a single scratch on him from me.

Most of the guests on the screen groaned at the fact that he had won. Apparently, most of them didn't bet on him winning so they didn't bother.

The boy staggered back as tears filled his eyes at how I looked.

He looked apologetic but I just gave him a small smile. Not like he could see it since my hair covered my entire face.

“One candidate, successful. Activity over,” the computerised voice said through the speakers, and the guests on the screen clapped.

The rest stepped out and I was left on the floor, writhing in pain.

The TV went off and all the lights in the room turned off too, leaving me in the dark.

My whole body ached and the pain I had been suppressing came rushing at once.

I closed my eyes and bit my lip till I bled to hold it back but I was highly unsuccessful.

I curled into a ball and let the darkness consume me as I fell unconscious.

My eyes opened slowly and I was back to being chained on the wall. My bruises were covered with bandages and there was a man with a white lab coat, injecting something inside me.

I should have fought him off but I chose not to, letting him put whatever liquid they sent him to into my system.

Once he was done and he stepped out, I was left alone.

I didn't know if it was the following day so I didn't bother to look at the camera. I just hung from the wall and hummed the tune my father used to sing to me when I was younger.

The doors opened and someone stepped in.

His scent filled my nostrils and my head snapped to him.

“You,” I muttered under my breath and he froze where he stood.

He slowly took off the gas mask he was putting on and his face right in front of me made me wish I wasn't chained. I wanted to tear him apart.

“Elira. I see you're faring well.”

“So there really was something in the air then, considering you came with a gas mask.”

He didn't reply and walked closer till he was right in front of me.

“You have three questions to answer in two minutes.”

I threw my head back and when I brought it forward again, I spat in his face.

“You do love your two-minute rule, don't you?”

He didn't say anything and brought out a napkin, wiping it off his face.

“You should really use your time wisely,” he said, looking back at me with no emotion on his face.

“I tend not to listen to jackasses. And newsflash, you're a jackass.”

He drew his fist back and punched me in the nose. I felt it crack and blood dripped from my nostrils.

“Three questions, Elira,” he repeated, and I just stared at him.

“Who are you?” I asked, he took some steps back and some people rushed in with a foldable chair, opening it as he sat down.

“Aiden, your worst nightmare,” he replied with a smirk I so wanted to wipe off by tearing it off his face.

“Nice to see your face again, you fucker.” I spat.

Keep Watching!
The story is getting intense! Switch to App to continue reading
Unlock All Episodes
Open the Official Website

You may also like

Claimed By My Fiancé's Ruthless Uncle Novel Cover
9.6
I spent our third anniversary alone in our penthouse, adjusting a white rose and waiting for a man who didn't want to come home. When my fiancé, Chris Osborne, finally arrived, he didn't notice the 1982 Lafite or the dinner I’d prepared. He looked at me with disgust, calling my desire for a wedding date "pressure" before storming out to a private club. I followed him, hiding behind a marble pillar at The Vault as I recorded his voice on my phone. He was laughing with his friends about a $20 million bet. He called me a "boring ice queen" and a "marble statue," explaining that he only needed to keep me around until the merger closed so he could steal my shares and "cut me loose." To make it worse, my own father was in on it, prioritizing his stock price over his daughter's life. Broken and barefoot in a torrential Manhattan downpour, I sought refuge at the Four Seasons. I collapsed into the arms of a tall, dangerous-looking stranger and begged him to take me upstairs. I wanted to be erased, to forget the transaction my life had become. After a night of salt and desperation, I left my engagement ring on his nightstand as payment for services rendered and fled. The next morning, I realized I had jumped from the frying pan into the furnace. My "stranger" wasn't a nobody. He was Gallagher Osborne—the ruthless patriarch of the family and my fiancé’s uncle. He tracked me to a private clinic, trapping me in a room while holding my medical file and the ring I’d discarded. He told me I was his now, and that he’d dismantle Chris piece by piece if I didn't comply. I was a piece of currency to my father, a bet to my fiancé, and a prize to his uncle. I had no allies, no escape, and no mercy left. I realized that being the "perfect daughter" had only made me a target. If they wanted to play games with the "Ice Queen," I decided to give them a frostbite they would never forget. I trashed my art gallery, backdated a diagnosis for a psychotic break, and sent a cryptic suicide note to Chris. As Gallagher watched from the shadows and Chris panicked over his investment, I began the process of scorching the earth. The merger was still happening, but I wasn't the bride anymore—I was the wrecking ball.
From Beloved To Battered: Her Reckoning Novel Cover
7.8
My husband, Chase, was having an affair. But when I confronted him, he didn't just admit it-he told me he was tired of my ambition and that his new lover, a diner waitress, was everything I wasn't: simple and undemanding. Then he pushed me down the stairs. The fall cost me our unborn child. As I lay broken in the hospital, his mistress, Joy, visited. Under the guise of care, she forced a foul soup down my throat, whispering it was the "blood and flesh" of my dead baby. When I fought back, Chase walked in, saw Joy on the floor, and ordered his bodyguards to beat me for hurting her. One hundred slaps. Each one chipping away at the nine years of love I had for him. He had promised to be my anchor, but he had become the storm that wrecked me. Why did the man who once cherished my brilliance now despise it? Why did he protect the monster who tormented me while destroying me and our child? Lying on the cold hospital floor, bruised and bleeding, I finally understood. The love was dead. And with it, the woman who had ever loved him. I picked up my phone and made a call. It was time to burn it all down.
Her Vengeance Rises From The Asylum Novel Cover
7.3
I walked into the luxury boutique on Fifth Avenue, the air conditioning chilling my skin. There she was-Alivia, my adopted sister-swiping my husband' s Black Card for her wedding dress. Three years ago, she tampered with the neonatal equipment during my home birth, suffocating my newborn son. Then she told everyone I was a drug addict who killed my own baby in a hallucination. My husband, Carter, didn't just believe her; he locked me in a high-security psychiatric facility in Nevada to "fix" me. For three years, I rotted in isolation while she took my life, my husband, and paraded a child that wasn't even his as the Fletcher heir. Even my parents sided with her, protecting their image over their own daughter's sanity. They think I' m still the fragile socialite who would crumble under their gaslighting. They think I' m here to beg for forgiveness. I pulled a silver flash drive from my clutch and stepped into the light. "Shopping for a wedding dress, Alivia?" I whispered, my voice cutting through her laughter. "I hope it goes well with the forensic report proving you murdered my son." The game is over, Carter. I' m not here to reconcile. I' m here to burn your empire to the ground.
My Boss My Babydaddy  Novel Cover
9.8
Roses are red, tequila hits hard, and I danced like I owned the damn night. Now? Everything's a hot mess. Emily Hart just landed the dream job, personal secretary to the sinfully rich, dangerously fine CEO of Steele Empire. So naturally, she did what any girl with a fat offer letter and a killer dress would do: hit the club, danced like a vixen, and threw back shots until reality blurred and pleasure took the wheel. That's when he happened. Dominic Steele. Billionaire boss. Ruthless in the boardroom. Untamed in the bedroom. He saw her, hips swaying, lips smirking, black dress clinging like a second skin, and he didn't ask for a name. He just took. One night. One filthy, breathless, back-arching night. No promises. No names. Just raw heat and moans that echoed past midnight. Until Monday morning happened. Now, the man who made her beg without words is standing behind a glass desk in a tailored suit, And she's the new secretary who can't look him in the eye without remembering how he made her scream. She thinks he's cocky as hell. He thinks she's the sweetest kind of chaos. But when a missed period makes an unexpected appearance, it's no longer just business. It's Daddy, please....... with a whole lot of tension, temptation, and trouble in between.
Rejected Mate's Revival Novel Cover
8.7
Elara’s life shatters when her fated mate, the future Alpha, rejects her for a stronger rival. Banished and broken, she flees her pack, hiding a secret that could change everything. Years later, she returns not as a victim, but as a powerful warrior with a lethal reputation. As old enemies resurface and dangerous secrets come to light, Elara must navigate a path of vengeance and redemption while her former mate begs for a second chance.
The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge Novel Cover
8.5
I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."