Chains of obsession (The devils claim)

The living room reeked of cheap alcohol and stale sweat. The flickering bulb overhead cast long shadows on the cracked walls, making the place look like a cage Kiara couldn’t escape from. She sat curled on the couch, hugging her knees, wishing—praying—that her stepfather’s drunken rage would pass like a storm. But tonight was different. “You think I can keep feeding a useless mouth like yours?” he slurred, pacing with a half-empty bottle in his hand. His eyes, bloodshot and wild, landed on her like knives. “Your mother left me with nothing but debt and you.” Kiara’s throat tightened. She wanted to scream that none of this was her fault, that she hadn’t asked to be left with him when her mother died. But she swallowed her words. She had learned the hard way that silence was safer. A knock rattled the front door—sharp, deliberate, like a warning. Her stepfather’s expression shifted. The anger didn’t leave his eyes, but something else slid in—something greedy. He straightened his stained shirt and muttered, “Stay put.” Kiara’s heart skipped. The way he said it made her stomach twist. The door creaked open. She heard deep voices, male, steady in a way that made the hair on her arms rise. She edged closer, peering through the torn curtain. Three men in dark suits stood outside. Their presence didn’t belong in this broken-down apartment. They looked like predators who had come for something—or someone. “She’s here,” her stepfather said. His voice was too eager, too ready. “Just like I promised.” Ice shot through Kiara’s veins. One of the men stepped forward, his gaze flicking past her stepfather straight into the room. Their eyes locked. Cold. Measuring. Final. “Bring her,” he said. Her stepfather turned, his smile cruel. “Get up, Kiara.” She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. “No…” His face hardened. “Don’t make me drag you.” Her legs trembled as she pressed herself deeper into the couch. She couldn’t move. She wouldn’t. Something inside her screamed that if she went with them, she’d never come back. “Kiara!” he barked, storming toward her. He grabbed her arm, yanking her up so hard her shoulder burned. She kicked against him, clawing at his grip, tears stinging her eyes. “Let me go!” she cried. “Please, don’t do this—” He shoved her forward like a prize being displayed. “This is her. She’s young, untouched. Worth every cent.” Her blood ran cold. One of the suited men gave a small nod. “She’ll do.” An envelope thick with cash hit the table. The sound of it landing made her stomach drop. Her stepfather’s eyes lit up, his fingers snatching at the money like a starving man. “No!” Kiara screamed, pulling free from his grasp. She darted toward the back of the apartment, heart pounding. She didn’t know where she was going—just that she had to get away. But the men were faster. A strong hand closed around her wrist, jerking her back. She fought with everything she had—kicking, scratching, biting. Desperation turned her into a wild animal. “Let me go!” she shrieked, her voice raw. “You can’t take me! He’s lying! I’m not for sale!” Her stepfather didn’t even flinch. He was too busy thumbing through his newfound fortune, a sick grin plastered on his face. Tears blurred Kiara’s vision as she twisted, slamming her heel into the shin of the man holding her. He grunted but didn’t let go. Instead, another man stepped forward, his expression darkening. “She’s feisty,” he muttered. “But she’ll learn.” Kiara’s chest heaved with ragged breaths. She yanked against their grip, her nails leaving angry red trails across the hand that bound her. For a heartbeat, she thought she might break free. Then, without warning, something hard slammed into the side of her head. Pain exploded, white-hot, and the room spun violently. Her scream cut off into a choked gasp. Her knees buckled. The world blurred, sounds muffled like they came from underwater. She tried to hold on, tried to keep fighting, but her body betrayed her. The last thing she saw before darkness swallowed her was her stepfather—smiling, clutching that envelope of blood money—while strangers dragged her limp body away. And then, nothing.