Vengeance in His Bed

The gull-wing door of the luxury transport rose with a pressurized hiss, and Jannah immediately reached out, grabbing the handle of the back door. Her body was still aching from the previous night’s trauma, and her sole intention was to isolate herself in the rear passenger cabin, putting as much physical distance as possible between her skin and his suffocating presence.

"Get your hand off that handle," Dorrent’s deep, gravelly voice barked from behind her, cutting through the quiet morning air.

Jannah froze, her fingers tightening on the cold metal. She turned her head slightly, meeting his eyes. Dorrent stood by the driver’s side, his frame towering over the roof of the vehicle as he leveled a freezing, dominant glare at her.

"I am not your chauffeur, little physician," he sneered, his lip curling with that familiar, arrogant condescension. "You do not sit in the back like a high-born lady. Move your frame to the front and sit with me."

Jannah’s jaw clenched with such force a sharp ache shot through her teeth. She could feel the watchful eyes of the estate guards on them, and knowing that any public scene would ripple back to Guron, she forced her hand to drop. She marched to the passenger side, pulling the front door open with an aggressive jerk.

Before she climbed into the leather interior, she turned her face toward him, her dark eyes flashing with an unyielding, venomous fire. "Keep your hands to yourself during this entire drive, Dorrent," she commanded in a harsh, trembling whisper. "I hope you won’t misbehave or touch a single part of my body on this highway. We are out in the open now."

Dorrent let out a short, mocking chuckle as he slid his torso into the driver’s seat, the engine roaring to life with a vibration that shook the entire chassis. He reached over, forcefully grabbing her seatbelt and pulling it across her chest, his knuckles deliberately brushing against the soft swell of her breast, making her flinch against the leather.

"You speak as if I have a choice in the matter, Jannah," Dorrent murmured, his voice dropping into a low, terrifyingly intimate purr as he navigated the vehicle out of the grand estate gates. "It is just that I can’t help myself every single time your body is close to mine. My mind is always completely occupied, thinking about pinning you down and filling you up until you are weeping my name. And besides..."

He turned his head sideways, his eyes flaring with a sudden, toxic wave of possessiveness that made the air inside the sealed cabin turn entirely freezing. "...let me remind you of the reality you agreed to last night. You now have absolutely no way to back me down. You are my exclusive sex object and if you ever want to keep your grandfather safe and prevent your life from becoming an unmanageable hell, you will remember your place."

Jannah snapped her head away, staring rigidly out the side window as the upper districts began to blur into a gray, industrial landscape. She sat in absolute, suffocating silence, her fingers curling into tight fists against her knees, completely refusing to grant him the satisfaction of her words.

The silence inside the cabin stretched for miles, broken only by the hum of the high-speed tires against the concrete highway. As the vehicle descended the elevated ramps leading toward the lower borders, the pristine, glass-walled high-rises slowly vanished, replaced by the heavy smog, rusted corrugated roofs, and crumbling brick walls of the lower sector.

Dorrent glanced at the dilapidated buildings passing by, his face twisting into a look of pure disgust. "What exactly are you going to do in the slums anyway?" he asked suddenly, his voice dripping with forced boredom. "Look at this wretched place. It is completely stinking, filthy, and entirely boring. There is absolutely nothing here but disease and human waste."

"It is my home," Jannah argued fiercely, her voice cracking with raw emotion as she turned to glare at his arrogant profile. "It is the exact place where I was born, and it is incredibly special to me. Not everyone measures the value of a life by the number of corporate credits in a bank account, Dorrent. The people here have souls, unlike the monsters who live in your district."

"Souls?" Dorrent scoffed, his silver eyes narrowing into lethal slits as his white knuckles tightened around the steering wheel. He let out a cold, sharp breath, the temperature inside the car plummeting as his S-tier aura began to fluctuate with a sudden, jagged edge of irritation. "Don’t lecture me about sentimentality, Jannah. Let’s speak about the real reason you are so desperate to visit this gutter on a weekend. Were you going to see your crappy, pathetic boyfriend, Damian Boren?"

The sudden mention of the Mafia prince’s name made Jannah’s heart do a violent, frantic skip against her ribs. The memory of that rainy midnight alleyway—where Damian had unexpectedly kissed her with a fierce, crushing intensity to protect her from Dorrent’s suspicions—flashed vividly in her mind.

Forcing her voice to remain steady, she leaned back against the headrest, a reckless, defiant smile touching her lips. She decided to use his own unhinged jealousy as a weapon to lacerate his pride. "Of course I am going to see him," Jannah provoked him, her voice dripping with a fabricated tenderness. "I miss him terribly. He is my partner, and I wouldn’t like anything more than to spend every single second of my weekend wrapped in his arms, far away from your disgusting touch."

The exact millisecond the confession left her mouth, Dorrent’s entire expression turned utterly monstrous.

A terrifying, unhinged crimson light completely swamped his silver pupils. He violently slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the massive force of the blow causing the dashboard console to rattle violently. "Shut your mouth!" Dorrent roared, his voice shaking the reinforced glass windows of the transport. "I don’t want to hear another word about that gutter-doctor! I do not want you to have another man fucking you, Jannah! I absolutely do not like sharing my property with anyone, and since I was the exact one who had deflowered you, since I am the only one who has torn through that tight, untouched entrance of yours, I should be the absolute singular Alpha who keeps that up!"

He drifted the car sharply across the lane, his breathing turning ragged and heavy as his S-tier possessiveness boiled into a blind, territorial rage. "Let me make this perfectly clear to you, little physician. If you are not going to break up with that Mafia’s son immediately, I will have to do something to either you or Damian that none of you will ever like. I will dismantle his entire underground clinic network and hunt him down myself."

Deep within his chest, Dorrent’s hyper-calculating mind was tracking the exact timeline of her movements. He knew perfectly well that Damian had not yet fucked Jannah. Ever since the fateful day he had deflowered her, she had been kept under a tight surveillance schedule at the estate, barely getting a single hour of free time to visit the slums. The only exception had been that singular midnight when he had driven down to 3rd Street and caught them kissing outside her rotting wooden door.

"You listen to me very carefully," Dorrent hissed, his jaw clenching so hard a sharp vein bulged against his temple. "You better never let that Mafia’s son fuck you, Jannah. I will absolutely not have your entrance contaminated by his pathetic cock, and then be expected to drive my own back in there afterward. If you want things to still remain as peaceful as they currently are in your life, you will keep your body entirely pure for my cock."

He cast an analytical glance at her frozen profile, a sudden, dark suspicion crossing his features. "Tell me the truth... was it Damian and your joint plan to kill me? Did that Mafia family provide you with those poisonous herbs to clear me out of the corporate hierarchy?"

Jannah let out a sharp, mocking laugh, completely unfazed by his terrifying threats as her hatred took total control. "Damian has absolutely nothing to do with my desire to see you dead, Dorrent! My hatred for you belongs entirely to me! But you should know that it is only thoughtful and completely natural that I want to sleep with Damian. I love him, and he loves me back with respect and tenderness. When his body touches mine, it would actually be making love—something beautiful and pure. Unlike with a monster like you, which is entirely based on nothing but disgusting, primitive lust and biological manipulation!"

The mention of her making love to Damian Boren hit Dorrent’s S-tier pride like an explosive charge.

Without a single word of warning, Dorrent slammed his foot down on the brake pedal. The luxury transport came to a sudden, violent, screeching halt right in the middle of a deserted, rusted industrial alleyway, the tires smoking against the cracked pavement.

Before Jannah could even process the sudden stop, Dorrent unbuckled his seatbelt, his arms moving with lightning speed. He reached across the console, his hands clamping around her waist with bone-crushing intensity. With a single, brutal heave of his muscular torso, he violently yanked her entire body out of the passenger seat, dragging her across the gear shift and forcing her to sit directly on his lap.

He pinned her down against his broad chest, his arms wrapping around her waist like iron bands, squeezing her so tightly against his heat that she could feel the immediate, rigid length of his furious manhood burning against her thighs through her thin dress. He grabbed her chin with a punishing leverage, forcing her head back to look directly into his wild eyes.

"You listen to me, and you remember every single syllable that leaves my mouth, Jannah," Dorrent whispered, his voice dropping into a sub-zero, terrifyingly calm register that cut deeper than any shout, his breath hot against her lips. "You better never think of sleeping with anyone else in this lifetime. If you want to keep your peaceful life, you belong exclusively to me. If another man touches you... I will destroy you and them piece by piece."