
OWNED IN THE DARK
After losing both her parents at a tender age, Ciara experiences coldness despite having her best friend Carlista whose parents chose to raise her, she faces several oppositions from extended family and even outside pressure as a result of her inherited wealth; she falls in love with her best friend's brother who refuses to acknowledge their relationship to the public.
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Chapter 4
CIARA
I yawned as I opened my eyes slowly and discovered him beside me on the bed; no wonder I remained warm inspite of the heavy storm that refused to stop. I tried to stand but he pulled my back to himself; his hard on digging into my back side as he spooned me so I pushed harder and he grunted "Good morning Ciara."
I scoffed. "Why are you here Mat? What if someone had walked in?"
"The storm is pretty bad so no one can come in but even if they do I'd handle it."
I exhaled slowly. "You are engaged to someone else; you should stay away from me."
"I know you are still mad at me but we need to discuss this. Why chose to have an abortion?"
"Why did you chose to swap my pills without my consent? How was my IUD removed without me knowing? You are a very known figure who got very engaged to Maggie; you need to forget about anything we had and move on with your life like I did mine."
The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating as the rain outside intensified leaving the atmosphere tensed.
"I thought I was down with a flu or something but imagine my shock when they told me I was pregnant. You are the most selfish man I've ever met in my life Mathew. You want a wife and a mistress but I'm not playing your game with you."
The rain stopped, leaving the world gray and washed clean. I stood, staring at the window.
I turned to look at him, my eyes void of the softness they had held on "You cornered me everywhere...."
"Because you were avoiding me," he snapped, stepping closer to the window. "You pushed me away, Ciara. I thought you wanted this."
"Did you ever stop to think maybe I wanted you but not what you wanted to make me?"
I tightened my robe "I need to go home, Matthew. I can't be here with you looking at me like I'm a mistake."
I started to walk past him, but he didn't move.
"Did you love me at all?" he asked, the question tearing at his throat.
I paused, my hand on the doorknob. I looked back at him, and for a second, the anger cracked, revealing the hurt beneath. "I loved you enough to die for you, Matthew. That's the problem. I loved you more than you were ever willing to love me and only a manipulative jerk like you would bring up love right now."
The door clicked shut as I walked away from him.
He found me at the garden an hour later, ignoring the pouring rain as I pulled weeds from the soil. I looked like a wild creature, soaked to the bone, my hair plastered to her face.
"You're crazy," he called out to me, approaching through the mud.
I didn't look up. "Go away, Matthew."
"I'm not going anywhere," he said, walking right up to me. He grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to turn to him. "You're shivering."
"I'm fine." I tried to shrug him off, but he held on, my grip tight enough to bruise.
"You didn't eventually go through with the abortion," he stated. It wasn't a question.
My eyes went wide, then narrowed into slits. "You don't know that. I handled the procedure."
"I know you're pregnant," he said, leaning in until our noses were almost touching. "I know you better than you know yourself. Your body is fighting to protect something, Ciara. You're fertile, you're weak, and you're carrying my child."
"I'm not a vessel for your legacy, Matthew!" I shoved me hard, the force surprising him enough that he stumbled back. "Get out of my life. Just get out."
I pushed past him, but he caught my wrist, spinning me around and pinning me against the rough bark of an old oak tree. The rain soaked through our clothes instantly, our chests pressed together, skin slick and hot.
"Don't do this," he growled, his mouth hovering over hers. "I'm not letting you walk away from me, Ciara. I'm going to make you remember exactly what it felt like to be with me."
"Then prove it and leave me the hell alone" I screamed, water dripping from her chin.
That was all the invitation he needed. He didn't waste another second. He kissed me, hard and desperate, claiming my mouth with a ferocity that bordered on violence. His tongue thrust deep, demanding access, tasting the rain and the sweetness of her that he had been starving for. My hands clenched in his wet hair, pulling him closer, my breath hitching in a moan that escaped into the storm.
One hand moved to the back of my neck, holding me in place, while the other tore at the sash of my robe, letting the fabric fall open. The cold air hit my skin, but his body was a furnace against me.
"Matthew," I gasped against his lips. "We're outside."
"So what?" he nipped at my bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth. "The whole world can see us. The whole world can watch me take what's mine."
He lifted me effortlessly, her legs wrapping instinctively around my waist. He buried my face in the crook of my neck, inhaling my scent and lowered me onto the soft, wet grass of the garden. He covered my body with his, weight pinning me to the earth, his erection already hard and aching, pressing demandingly against my thigh.
"Look at me, Ciara," he commanded, his voice dropping to a rough growl.
I opened her eyes, dark with desire, water pooling in her lashes. I reached down, my fingers trembling as I unbuttoned his shirt, pushing it open to reveal his chest. I ran my hands over his skin, my touch electric, making him shudder.
"You think you can just walk away?" he whispered, his lips brushing against my earlobe, biting down gently. "You think you can carry my child and then just choose to leave? No. You belong to me. Your body, your mind, your child."
"I hate you," I breathed, my nails digging into his back as he ground his hips against me, letting me feel exactly how much I affected me.
"I know," he groaned, aligning himself with my heat. "But you're mine, Ciara. And I'm going to make you scream my name until you believe it."
He thrust into me in one fluid motion, sheath enveloping me instantly, hot and tight and perfect. I cried out, my back arching off the ground, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he began to move. The rain continued to fall, washing over us, blurring the edges of the world until there was only the friction of our bodies, the slick heat of our skin, and the thunder of our hearts beating in sync.
He fucked me with a wild, desperate rhythm, each stroke harder and deeper than the last. He wanted to mark me, to leave his sign on my skin, to remind me that no matter where I went, he was the one who knew my body best. My legs wrapped tighter around his waist, pulling him in deeper, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
"Mathew..." I moaned, my head falling back against the wet grass. "Please... don't stop."
"Never," he growled, reaching between us to rub my clit with his thumb as he pistoned into me. "I'm never letting you go."
I arched my back, my walls clamping down around me, milking him for everything he had. My eyes rolled back, my mouth open in a silent scream as I shattered, my body convulsing around his. The feeling was blinding, pushing him over the edge as he roared my name, emptying himself into me with a guttural cry.
He collapsed on top of me, both of us breathless and spent, the rain cooling our overheated skin. He held me close, burying his face in my neck, listening to the thunderous thumping of my heart. He didn't care about the mud, the wet clothes, or the public display. "You're mine, Ciara," he whispered against my skin. "Always."
I didn't answer, but I didn't pull away either. He turned my head to look at him, a small, broken smile touching my lips. "You're absolutely insane Matthew."
"I'm your man," I corrected, kissing her forehead. "And I'm not letting you leave this garden until you agree to forgive me."
I laughed softly, a sound that seemed too light for the storm raging inside me. "You think a fuck is going to fix everything, don't you?"
"It fixed something," he said, nuzzling my neck. "It fixed you and it's going to keep fixing us. Now get up. We need to clean up before Calista comes looking for us."
I groaned but moved, my legs trembling as I stood. He helped me up, his arms around my waist, keeping me steady. We were a mess, a tangled mess of limbs and wet clothes, but he didn't care.
As we walked back to the house, he cleared his throat "Some Paps got their hands on your medical records, it's how I discovered you never went through with the abortion. I've handled them."
"Are you fucking kidding me Matthew? So...I don't even get any privacy?" I scoffed and as he's about to respond, the moment we stepped into the house, we found Maggie, his fiancée waiting inside.
She stared at us for a while then walked up and kissed him on his lips as he quickly pushed her aside "Hi babe."
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7.6
The heavy prison gates clanged shut, ending three years. I scanned the empty lot for Julian, my fiancé. Deserted.
Biting December wind my only welcome. Calls to Julian, father, mother: unanswered/disconnected.
Shivering, Julian's tracker showed an unfamiliar Long Island estate. A freezing cab left me penniless; I walked through the blizzard. Through a mansion window, I saw Julian, my stepsister Clara, a small boy—a perfect family. Julian, who hated children, doted on him, and Clara wore *my* engagement ring.
I overheard Julian's call: he, my father, conspired to frame me for Clara’s medical error, saving their company and future. My family hadn't just abandoned me; they plotted my destruction.
A delayed text from Julian popped up, lying about a "cross-border meeting," promising to pick me up tomorrow. Despair vanished, replaced by a cold, terrifying smile. Typing "Understood," I turned from their stolen life, walking into the blizzard, fueled by burning rage.

8.3
Ayleen Ramirez sat in the sterile Hope Hill Fertility Clinic, her heart shattering as Dr. Finch delivered the crushing news: her third IVF cycle had failed.
Eavesdropping outside a supply closet, she overheard her husband Don on the phone, laughing cruelly. "She's a defective incubator," he sneered to his mistress Alessandra. "I never used my sperm—just cheap bank donation. No trailer trash carries a Bradley heir."
Betrayed, Ayleen confronted him, but her adoptive family ambushed her at home. Her parents and brother sided with Alessandra, now pregnant by Don, demanding Ayleen sign divorce papers to secure family investments. "You're an embarrassment," her mother snapped, threatening to cut her trust fund. Ayleen tossed back their heirloom necklace and walked out.
She stormed the Bradley mansion, slapped divorce papers on Don, packed her bags amid his aunt's insults, and fled into the night.
Drunk in a trendy bar, she stumbled into a powerful stranger—Burdette Guerrero—spilling whiskey on his crotch, then accidentally grabbed a napkin to his trousers. He shoved her away in rage.
Worse, she mistook his penthouse suite for her hotel room, bursting in on his shower, smashing a mirror in panic. He pinned her to the wall, snarling accusations.
How did this arrogant man know her name? Why demand she sign a mysterious contract at 9 a.m.? Devastated and clueless she's actually pregnant—with his stolen heir—Ayleen sobbed alone, the world crumbling.
The next morning, she straightened her spine in the Grand Guerrero lobby, ready to face him and demand answers—no matter the cost.

7.2
I thought I was just marrying a middle-class commercial pilot who proposed to me in a Brooklyn cemetery to fulfill his grandmother's bizarre dying wish.
But when an arrogant pilot tried to harass me at the airport, my "ordinary" husband suddenly appeared, his eyes like chips of ice.
"Take your hand off my wife."
With that single cold command, he had the airline's top executives groveling and the man practically fired on the spot.
Everyone called him "Mr. Chandler." He handed me an exclusive black Centurion card, claiming it was just a standard "manager's perk." His retired parents, who supposedly ran a small business, visited me wearing Patek Philippe watches. I ignored all the glaring red flags, foolishly believing I had just lucked into a stable, caring marriage after a lifetime of disappointments.
Yet, despite his constant, suffocating generosity, he kept a physical wall between us. After a kiss so desperate and hungry it felt like he had been starving for it his entire life, he violently pushed me away.
"We should take this slow."
I couldn't understand why a man who looked at me with such intense, possessive devotion would treat our marriage like a sterile business deal. Why was he orchestrating every perfect detail of my life while refusing to even share a bed with me?
I had no idea that the man sleeping in the guest room wasn't a pilot at all. He was Harmon Chandler, the ruthless billionaire emperor of the Chandler Group. And he had been secretly monitoring my every move for ten years.

8.0
Eight years of devotion crumbled under one calculated betrayal.
Diagnosed with a terminal illness and given only a year, Olivia faced heartbreak when her husband cheated with a student she had sponsored and asked for divorce.
"She only has a year to live... can't you let her have this?" he pleaded, unaware Olivia hid the same fate.
Without protest, she signed and returned to science, determined to leave something behind.
Believing they'd reunite, he waited-never knowing she was running out of time.
During a clinical trial, she burned through her final days.
Only after her death did he learn the truth, collapsing in regret. "Olivia... I was wrong."

9.5
My husband, Colton, the Wall Street mogul, slid annulment papers across the table, coldly discarding me and our unborn child. He thought he was getting rid of a useless wife, but he was actually throwing away the secret architect of his entire empire. Now, I'm ready to make him pay for every insult, every lie, and every single secret I've kept.
For three years, eight months pregnant, I secretly saved Colton's ten-billion-dollar company from collapse, enduring a cold, transactional marriage.
One night, he shattered that illusion, serving annulment papers and callously discarding me and our unborn child.
I signed, leaving luxury behind. Exposing his butler's fraud, I escaped. Colton later found his wedding ring gone and, on his desk, my SEC compliance fixes—proof I was his hidden genius.
Blindsided, he realized he’d destroyed his own empire. His mother then called, gloating. The injustice ignited a fierce resolve within me.
The next morning, I launched Kidd Legal Consulting. I'd use forty-seven folders of Farmer Capital's un-patched loopholes to force a fair settlement, securing my daughter's future.

9.3
After eight years in captivity, I was finally rescued. I thought it was the beginning of a new life with my mother.
But she didn't even look at me. She ran into the arms of a handsome stranger, her real husband, and I was treated like a dirty secret from her past.
They called me a contamination, a reminder of their trauma. My new stepsister set their Doberman on me, and as the dog's teeth sank into my arm, I looked up and saw my mother watching from the window.
She met my eyes for a second, then slowly closed the curtains.
In that moment, the last bit of hope I had died. The shallow bond of family was completely gone, and I finally gave up.
But they made one mistake. The family patriarch, suspicious after a car accident, ordered a secret DNA test.
The results came back on the day of my stepsister's birthday party, revealing a truth that would burn their perfect world to the ground.