Imagine Being Loved By Me

Prologue

How Strange, Innocence:

Or, Liam Hannan's Complete Shock At Finding Purity In Someone Who Should Be Anything But...

~

It was a sign, a jolt, like lightning searing through her slender body, warning her that what she was about to do now wouldn't end well. Yet, even with how powerfully dramatic this sign felt, she knew it wasn’t anything special. It was just her intuition that was warning her again, slapping at her mind like it had been since she stepped foot in this unwelcoming house.

There was only a slight difference this time, that made her body freeze when she entered the room she was meant to go in. Her intuition felt primal, instinctual, as it was screaming at her from every hidden place deep within her mind that the things she wanted, how she wanted them, no longer existed. They were snatched from her, ripped from her fingers even as she held onto the bitter end. Now, if she wanted to get back to that, then this was not the way. This path didn’t lead to where she wanted, and she feared that her realization came too late. Because she could see now that this path wasn’t simply a dead end, but that it was a one-way road without any space to turn around and go out the way she came in.

And she knew this, as clearly as she ever thought she could as she stared into the hard eyes of the man standing before her.

Her delicate fingers gripped tightly at the golden tray that held the tea she’d just finished brewing for the man, that initial jolt of lightning shooting up her spine again before rushing down her long legs.

What he held in his rough hand looked to be a large, gold ring attached to a thick gold chain, but what he held on his face was what told her that fight or flight did not apply to her current situation. If she only chose one and not the other, she wouldn’t be successful in forcing enough space for her to turn around on this one-way road she willingly began to travel on.

No, the tainted look in the man’s eyes and his disgusting smile only indicated that if she wanted to survive whatever altercation was to come from the diabolical large man that was standing before her, then she’d need to fight and try to escape.

As soon as he took one looming step towards her, she took her own step back, her mouth dry and her skin prickling as her brain shouted at her to reason with him, to plead, say something.

Say anything.

Yet, her lips stayed sealed and he didn’t stop his slow, stalking advance.

Her back was nearly to the door as her mind raced and when he raised a hand to reach for her, she grabbed the teapot that held the cooling tea and threw the contents of it at him, watching as the liquid splashed over his face, neck, and shoulders.

Her throat tightened as her eyes widened when she realized he stopped in his shock, but he didn’t make a sound of pain. Not even a whimper.

It dawned on her quickly that she’d waited too long. After boiling the tea and moving it into the teapot, she always waited some time for the liquid to cool slightly. And today, that was her mistake. The tea was still hot, but it was no longer scalding, and any chances she had of talking him down were now thrown out with the liquid she’d just made for him to drink.

He growled at her indignation and audacity as she tried to turn and make a run for the door that was only right behind her, but his harsh grip was already pressing into the soft flesh of her shoulder, bruising her skin and forcefully turning her around. He slammed her back into the door, rattling her body with the force of it.

Reactively, her arms shot up, the gold tray she was still holding hitting him across the face as she kicked out with her feet to try and move him back and away from her.

She just needed to try and turn towards the door again. If she could get it open and scream for help, the other servants would hear her, they’d know something was wrong, they’d come to check what the commotion was.

But a searing pain in her abdomen stopped her, had her dropping to her knees as the wind was knocked right out of her.

“I’ve always liked the fighters,” the man laughed, holding one hand to the side of his jaw where the tray made contact earlier while the other still held tightly to the large golden ring. “That means there’ll never be a dull moment.”