The Devil's Obsession Got People Killed
752 Words
Gunshots cracked downstairs like thunder. Damien gripped Lila’s hand tighter and pulled her off the bed.
“Stay behind me,” he ordered again, voice low and sharp. He grabbed a spare gun from the nightstand drawer and pressed it into her trembling hands. “If anyone gets past me, point and shoot. Don’t think.”
Lila clutched the heavy weapon, the blanket slipping off one shoulder.
Her naked skin was exposed to the cold air, her body still sensitive and aching from everything that had happened earlier. She was terrified, but something in Damien’s urgent tone made her obey without question.
He moved fast, pushing her toward the corner of the room while he positioned himself by the door.
More shots rang out. Shouts. Footsteps pounding up the stairs.
The door burst open and then two men rushed in. Damien fired twice. One dropped instantly. The second got a shot off that grazed Damien’s arm. He didn’t even flinch.
He tackled the man, slamming him against the wall with brutal force. Fists flew. Blood splattered.
Lila pressed herself against the wall, heart hammering. She raised the gun with shaking hands but couldn’t pull the trigger.
The man Damien was fighting looked straight at her for a second.
“Miss Voss! Your father—”
Damien’s knife flashed. The man went silent.
He turned back to Lila, breathing hard, blood on his shirt. His eyes darkened when he saw her, blanket half fallen, naked curves exposed, gun in her small hands.
For a moment, the chaos around them seemed to fade. His gaze burned over her body, hungry and possessive.
“Come here,” he said roughly.
Lila hesitated only a second before moving to him. He pulled her close, one arm wrapping around her waist under the blanket.
His body was warm and solid against hers. She could feel how hard he was through his pants, pressing against her stomach.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured against her hair. His free hand slid down her back, cupping her ass possessively under the blanket. “But you’re still wet for me, aren’t you?”
Lila whimpered, face burning with shame. She was. Even now, with death all around them, her body reacted to his touch and his voice.
Another explosion of gunfire came from the hallway. Damien cursed and pushed her behind him again.
“More are coming,” he said. “We need to move.”
He grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room, gun raised.
They ran down the corridor toward a hidden stairwell at the back.
Bullets chipped the walls near them. Damien fired back, hitting another attacker.
They burst into a narrow staircase. Damien’s arm stayed around her, shielding her as they descended.
Lila’s bare feet stung on the cold metal steps. The blanket kept slipping, exposing more of her skin with every movement.
At the bottom, Damien kicked open a side door that led to another garage. A different car was waiting; black, sleek, armored.
He shoved her into the passenger seat and jumped behind the wheel. The engine roared to life.
As they sped out into the night, more cars appeared in the rearview mirror, chasing them.
Damien drove like a demon, weaving through traffic, taking turns so sharp Lila had to hold onto the seat. His injured arm was bleeding, but he didn’t seem to care.
His other hand reached over and rested on her thigh under the blanket, fingers digging into her soft skin.
"Nobody's taking you from me”, he said suddenly, voice rough with adrenaline. “No matter what your father does. No matter how many men he sends. You belong to me now, Lila.”
Lila looked at him, breathing fast. Her body was on fire. Fear and something much darker twisted together inside her. She opened her mouth to answer, but before she could, bright lights flooded the car from the side.
A truck slammed into them.
The world spun. Metal screamed. Glass shattered.
Lila screamed as the car flipped once, twice, and came to a violent stop on its side.
Everything went quiet except for the ringing in her ears. Damien groaned beside her, blood on his forehead. He reached for her immediately.
“Lila…”
But before he could say more, the sound of multiple car doors opening surrounded them.
Heavy footsteps. Men shouting orders.
Victor Voss’s voice cut through the chaos, cold and furious.
“Get my daughter out of there. Now.”
- Writer
