CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
776 Words
The Will to Survive
Elsa’s footsteps echoed through the dimly lit hallway as she stormed back to her room, her heart pounding with rage. The image of Liam and that woman—his so-called girlfriend—was seared into her mind.
She clenched her fists. How dare he?
She had played the fool long enough. If Liam thought he could humiliate her, disrespect her, and break her, then he didn’t know who he was dealing with.
She was done. Done playing nice.
But just as she reached her room, a pair of strong hands grabbed her from behind.
Before she could react, something sharp pricked her neck.
Then—darkness.
Elsa woke up to the sensation of water rising around her body.
Cold. Unforgiving. Suffocating.
She gasped, her chest tightening as she realized she couldn’t move her hands or legs. Her body was bound, trapped inside what felt like a metal container.
Panic surged through her veins as she struggled, her wrists burning against the restraints.
No, Elsa, we can do this. I won’t die here. No, I can’t die here. I have to make it out alive.
The water was up to her chin now.
Tears mixed with the freezing liquid as her mind raced.
All this time, she had believed that marrying Liam would bring her happiness. That somehow, they could fix things, that she could earn his love.
But she had been a fool.
He didn’t just dislike her. He didn’t just want to make her suffer. He wanted her dead.
But no. I won’t die like this. I refuse to die like this.
Her body was shaking from the cold, her fingers numb, her lungs screaming for air. But she gritted her teeth.
If anyone is to die here today, it won’t be me.
Summoning every last ounce of strength, she pushed against the container’s lock.
At first, it didn’t budge.
Then—click.
The lock broke open, and she burst out, gasping for breath.
The cold night air hit her skin, a harsh contrast to the freezing water clinging to her body. She shivered violently, her breaths coming in ragged gulps. Her drenched clothes clung to her curves, her hair plastered to her face.
Her entire body ached, but she wasn’t going to collapse. Not yet.
A shadow loomed over her.
Elsa’s heart stopped.
She looked up—her eyes locking onto his.
Liam.
Her vision blurred slightly, but she could still make out the broad, towering figure before her. He stood with his hands in his pockets, his face unreadable. But the way the moonlight hit his chiseled features made her momentarily forget the pain.
His strong jawline. His firm, toned chest, visible through his slightly unbuttoned shirt.
Damn him.
Even in this moment, when she was supposed to hate him more than ever, she couldn’t ignore how devastatingly handsome he was.
His neck… she thought, swallowing hard. God, why does it look so… biteable?
Then—reality crashed back in.
She stiffened, her breath catching in her throat.
Wait.
Why the hell was he smiling?!
That smug, arrogant smirk.
He was enjoying this.
He had tried to kill her, and now he was standing there, watching her struggle, and smirking?!
Rage exploded inside her.
With no hesitation, Elsa lunged at him.
Her fingers clawed at his shirt as she slammed her fists into his chest, her breath still shaky from near drowning.
“You tried to kill me, you bastard!” she screamed, her voice hoarse.
Liam caught her wrists with ease, his grip like steel.
“And yet,” he murmured, tilting his head, “you’re still alive.”
Elsa struggled, but his hold was unbreakable.
His dark eyes flickered with something she couldn’t decipher—was it amusement? Admiration? Annoyance?
She hated him.
She wanted to kill him.
But before she could react, Liam suddenly yanked her forward.
Her body crashed against his.
Elsa gasped, too stunned to fight back for a moment. The warmth of his body seeped through her wet clothes, the scent of his cologne invading her senses.
Then he leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear.
“I don’t hate you enough to let you die so easily,” he whispered.
A shiver ran down Elsa’s spine, but she quickly masked it with anger.
She refused to let him have the upper hand.
“Then why?” she hissed. “Why go through all this?”
Liam smirked, releasing her wrists before stepping back.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said, before turning and walking away.
Elsa stood there, drenched, furious, and breathless.
One thing was clear.
This wasn’t over.
- Writer
