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Possessed By The Mogul's Dark Will Novel Cover

Possessed By The Mogul's Dark Will

I was his possession. The entire world knew that Jackson Walters, the ruthless tech mogul, had destroyed my life to claim me. Then he brought home his new intern, Kaila, and sat me down. "I've decided," he said casually, "I want you both." When I fought back, he dragged me to a remote warehouse to teach me a lesson. My parents were bound and gagged, suspended by ropes over a massive, grumbling wood chipper. He gave me ten seconds to accept Kaila, or he'd drop them. "I agree!" I screamed in surrender. But it was too late. A frayed rope snapped, and I watched my parents plunge into the machine's grinding teeth. The horror of it all killed me. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in his bed. The date on my phone was the day he brought Kaila home. This time, I wouldn't fight him. I would be his perfect, obedient wife. And while he was distracted, I would fake my own death and disappear forever.
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Chapter 3

Allyson Mccray POV:

"Take it off," I said, my voice so low and tight with fury it was almost a hiss.

Kaila looked up, feigning surprise, before a slow, malicious smile spread across her face. She held up the poodle, wiggling its little body. "Isn't Fifi adorable? I thought the necklace looked so much better on her. It matches her diamond collar, don't you think?"

The calculated insult, the sheer contempt in her eyes, sent a wave of white-hot rage through me. I took a step forward, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. "I said, take it off. Now."

"Why? It's just a piece of metal," she taunted, stroking the dog's fur. "Jackson gave it to me. It's mine to do with as I please."

I forced myself to take a breath, my plan to escape flashing in my mind like a warning light. Don't lose control. Don't give him a reason. I unclasped the diamond bracelet on my wrist, a seven-carat monstrosity Jackson had given me last Christmas. "Take this," I said, my voice strained. "Take anything else you want. Just give me back my locket."

Kaila glanced at the bracelet with disdain. "I don't want his cast-offs. I want this." She deliberately dangled the dog just out of my reach. "Besides, Fifi seems to love her new toy."

That was it. The last thread of my hard-won control snapped. I lunged forward, grabbing for the dog, for my locket. Kaila shrieked and scrambled back, pulling the dog away. We struggled for a moment, a clumsy, desperate dance of rage and malice.

In the chaos, Kaila's foot slipped on the polished hardwood floor. Her eyes widened in genuine panic as her body tilted backward, her arms flailing. She tumbled over the low railing of the Juliet balcony, a terrified scream escaping her lips.

At that exact moment, I heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. Jackson. He must have heard the commotion.

He burst onto the landing just in time to see Kaila's form disappearing over the edge of the balcony.

With a roar of fury, he moved faster than I had ever seen him. He launched himself forward, his arms outstretched, and caught Kaila just as she was about to plummet to the stone patio two stories below. He pulled her back over the railing, crushing her to his chest.

"Are you okay? Kaila, are you hurt?" he demanded, his voice thick with panic as his hands ran over her body, checking for injuries.

I rushed to the balcony's edge, my heart hammering. "I didn't— She slipped!"

But Kaila was faster. She buried her face in Jackson's chest, her body wracked with theatrical sobs. "Jackson! Oh, Jackson, I was so scared! She… she tried to push me!"

She lifted her tear-streaked face, looking at me with wide, terrified eyes. "I'm sorry, Allyson! I'm sorry I wouldn't give you back the necklace! I didn't know you hated me that much! Please, don't be mad at me. It was an accident that I fell, I promise!" Her words were a masterpiece of manipulation, a confession wrapped in an accusation.

I stared at her, dumbfounded by the sheer audacity of her lies. "I didn't push you! You slipped!"

Jackson's head snapped toward me. The concern on his face was gone, replaced by an arctic coldness that froze my blood. "You gave her the necklace," he said, his voice dangerously low. "It was a gift. Why couldn't you just let it go?"

"It wasn't just a necklace!" I cried, my voice cracking. "It was my grandmother's! You knew that! You knew what it meant to me!"

The accusation hung in the air. For a split second, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—guilt? memory? It didn't matter. It was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"It is a dead thing," he said, his voice flat and devoid of emotion. "Kaila is alive. She likes it, you should have given it to her. I thought you had learned your lesson about being difficult."

I felt as if he had struck me. He knew. He had known all along it was my grandmother's locket, and he had still ripped it from my neck and given it to his new toy. The gesture hadn't been thoughtless; it had been deliberately cruel.

"I didn't push her," I repeated, my voice a hollow whisper.

"Enough!" he roared, cutting me off. "I saw what I saw. You have violated your promise to be obedient. You have hurt Kaila. This time, a simple apology won't suffice. You need to be taught a real lesson in humility."

He straightened up, his towering frame casting a long, dark shadow over me. "You will go downstairs. You will wait by the front entrance until I say you are forgiven."

My head snapped up. "You want me to stand there? You want to humiliate me in front of everyone?"

His eyes turned black with rage. "Do not test me, Allyson," he snarled, taking a step closer. "Or would you prefer I call your parents and have them take your place?"

The memory of the wood chipper, of their screams, flooded my mind. A shudder of pure terror ran through me. My fight evaporated, leaving behind only a cold, bitter resignation.

"No," I whispered, my voice hoarse. "Don't... don't touch them."

My fingernails dug into my palms, the sharp pain a distant anchor in a sea of despair. I would do it. I would do anything to keep them safe.

I was forced to stand at the grand entrance of the villa, a sentinel of shame. A box of polish and rags was placed on a small table beside me. The few remaining party guests, along with the household staff, were lined up, their faces a mixture of shock, pity, and cruel amusement.

I kept my head bowed, my hair falling like a curtain to hide my face. One by one, they stepped forward, pausing before me. I worked mechanically, my hands moving without conscious thought, polishing a single pair of Jackson's shoes he'd placed on a stool before me. Each buff of the cloth was a new layer of shame. Tears of humiliation burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I would not give them the satisfaction.

Then, a pair of glittering stiletto heels stopped in front of me. They didn't move. I slowly looked up, into a face contorted with malicious glee. Gretchen Cross. Her family were rivals of the Walters, and she had always harbored a grudge against me because Jackson had once publicly humiliated her for trying to flirt with him.

"Well, well, well," she purred, her voice dripping with venom. "Look what we have here. The high and mighty Mrs. Walters, brought low. How the mighty have fallen."

An icy premonition slithered down my spine.

"You know," she continued, leaning down, "Jackson once had my father's company blacklisted for a month because I touched his arm at a party. All because of you."

I saw the intention in her eyes a second before it happened. She lifted her foot, the razor-sharp heel of her shoe poised directly over my hand as it rested on the shoe stool.

"Now," she whispered, her smile widening into a grotesque mask of triumph, "it seems you're nothing but a dog he no longer wants."

She brought her heel down with vicious force onto my hand.

A scream of agony was ripped from my throat as a blinding, white-hot pain shot up my arm. The world swam before my eyes.

She laughed, a high, cruel sound, as I cradled my injured hand to my chest.

Through a haze of pain, I instinctively looked up, my gaze desperate, searching. I saw him. Jackson was standing on the second-floor balcony, Kaila nestled in his arms. He was watching.

His brow was furrowed, a slight frown on his lips. For a heart-stopping moment, I thought I saw him lean forward, as if to intervene. A tiny, pathetic flicker of hope ignited in my chest. He wouldn't let this happen. He couldn't.

But then Kaila whispered something in his ear, her hand stroking his cheek. Jackson's movement paused. He looked down at her, and when he looked back at me, his eyes were once again cold, remote, and utterly indifferent.

Through the blood-roaring in my ears, I heard his voice drift down, clear and cutting as glass.

"Let her be. It's time she learned a proper lesson."

The tiny flicker of hope was extinguished, plunged into an abyss of absolute despair. He wasn't just allowing it. He was sanctioning it. He was using another's cruelty as an extension of his own.

The physical pain in my hand was nothing compared to the agony that ripped through my soul. It was the final betrayal, the last nail in the coffin of whatever feelings I had left for him.

The world dissolved into a vortex of pain and darkness. The last thing I saw was Kaila's triumphant smirk over Jackson's shoulder.

Then, everything went black.

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