prologue
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In the thick, dark woods, where the wind howled
through the trees like a chorus of lost souls, a pregnant woman stumbled, her visibly swollen belly indicating she was well into her second trimester.
Covered in a white maternity gown and a designer jacket draped over her arms, she moved with speed, her bare feet leaving crimson imprints on the forest floor as blood gushed from her injured legs, the result of her desperate flight through the woods at such a late hour.
With every gasping breath she took, the woman cast scared glances over her shoulder, her eyes wide with terror, as if pursued by some unseen, evil force.
The eerie whispering of the wind only heightened her anxiety, its chilling touch sending shivers down her spine.
In her anxious state, she failed to notice the gnarled roots snaking across her path, and with a sickening thud, she collided with a sturdy oak tree.
A scream tore from her lips as her forehead connected with the tree, and the impact sent shockwaves of pain coursing through her body.
But the pain didn't end there; her precious bump, the life she carried within her, also felt the collision, eliciting a gut-wrenching cry of pain as she crumpled to the forest floor, clutching her wounded abdomen in an attempt to soothe both her own pain and that of her unborn child.
As tears streamed down her cheeks, Arette found herself in a state of despair she never could have fathomed. "Lord, forgive me," she whispered between sobs, her voice choked with anguish. "I know I haven't been a good person this past year, but please, help me out of this."
It was a peculiar phenomenon, they say, how even the staunchest non-believers often turn to prayer when faced with insurmountable challenges.
Arette, who had never been particularly religious, now found herself uttering desperate pleas to a higher power.
"Is this punishment for what happened to Mimi?" she cried out, her words a jumble of confession and plea. "I didn't mean to hurt her-I was angry that she slyly took my position, and Grace egged me on, but I made sure she wasn't seriously injured. Please, forgive me for my sins, for anything I've done wrong. Just... save me from this monster."
With every fibre of her being, Arette refused to succumb to the captivity of the monster.
The mere thought of returning to him sent shivers down her spine, knowing full well that his wrath would spare neither her nor her unborn child. She vowed to herself: she would not allow that fate to be theirs.
Summoning the last reserves of her strength, she rose to her feet and pressed onward, though the voices in the distance only served to intensify her dread.
Arette recognized them instantly-the relentless pursuit of her tormentor and his henchmen.
The flickering torch lights cast eerie shadows among the trees, amplifying her terror with each passing moment.
Her legs trembled with exhaustion, yet she persisted, driven by sheer determination to escape the captivity.
But her efforts went in vain, her energy depleted to the point of collapse. Suddenly, a firm hand seized her arm, halting her in her tracks.
A silent scream echoed within her mind, trapped by the confines of her fear-stricken body.
She was paralyzed, unable to utter even a whisper of protest as the hand tightened its grip, sealing her fate in the darkness of the night.
"Arette dear. . ." his voice, addressing Arette with a twisted affection, sent shivers down her spine, extinguishing any flicker of hope she held, especially for her unborn child.
Her desperate attempt to flee had been driven by the need to protect her baby, yet now she feared it would become the very reason for its death.
His words, though delivered with an eerie gentleness, instilled a deeper terror within Arette.
She understood that his calm demeanour masked a fury far more menacing than any outward display of anger.
He reminded her of his previous warning, to kill the life growing within her, and that served as a chilling realisation of her powerlessness.
She had sought to challenge his dominance, only to find herself held Captive further under his control.
In that moment, Arette grasped the cruel truth of her existence-trapped in a cycle of fear and submission, her every action dictated by the whims of that man.
With a surge of defiance, Arette mustered all her strength to push him away, though her efforts only granted her a brief respite from his grasp, leaving her dangerously close to him.
"The child I am carrying is also your child," she retorted, her voice laced with a mix of defiance and despair, her sarcastic air quotes emphasising her bitterness.
"How could you be so heartless?! I understand that you're a despicable person, but the least you can do is show some decency to your own unborn child."
Her bold words were met with a harsh slap across her cheek, causing her to stagger backward and collided with one of the towering trees, her head throbbed from the impact.
"Who told you I wanted a child from you? And if I were truly a horrible person, both you and that thing would have been dead by now!" he hissed, stepping menacingly closer to her and seizing her neck in a vice-like grip, cutting off her breath.
Arette's attempts to fight back were feeble, akin to a toddler taking on a seasoned MMA fighter-her efforts futile against his overwhelming strength.
"I could end you right now if I wished, and no one would ever know. So, don't you dare challenge me again," he threatened, his words dripping with venom as he continued to choke her before abruptly releasing his hold.
Gasping for air, Arette collapsed to the ground, her body racked with coughs as she struggled to fill her lungs, her clothes stained with blood and marked by numerous cuts.
In that moment of vulnerability, she felt utterly helpless and utterly insignificant.
Regalos
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