He Turned My Love Into a Grave Chapter 08

He Turned My Love Into a Grave Chapter 08

Silas froze mid-motion. His expression locked up. He stared at her.

His lips moved, barely. “Was it—that night?”

She didn’t know. Probably not. After all, in that nightmare of a room, multiple men had taken turns with her. She had no way of knowing whose child was growing inside her. But to save herself and her father, right now, she had to lie.

“Yes. Silas, I really don’t know where Cole is. If I’m carrying your child, why would I kidnap Lila’s?”

It made sense. If she feared Lila using the child to climb higher, kidnapping made sense. But now that Elara had a child of her own, doing something like that would be pointless.

The cruelty in Silas’s eyes finally softened. He pulled her up from the dust and brushed his fingers gently across her flat stomach. His voice dropped to something almost tender. “Elara, I had you all wrong. I’m sorry.”

Then the door flew open. Lila walked in. Silas’s gaze snapped toward her, his tone sharp with irritation. “Lila, Elara had no reason to take Cole. You’d better give me a damn good explanation—”

He didn’t finish. Lila’s eyes were swimming with tears. “Silas, don’t let her fool you. That child isn’t yours.” She held up her phone and hit play.

The video showed a strange man pinning Elara down. Her face was unmistakable. Her broken, ragged breaths filled the silence. The background had been blurred, the frame cropped tight. Only her dazed, hollow expression and the fragmented gasps remained.

Elara never imagined someone had filmed what happened to her that day. Or that Lila would get her hands on it.

Her lie shattered. Her voice shook. “No. It wasn’t like that. That was—”

“Elara!” Silas turned toward her. Every trace of softness evaporated. What remained was disgust, raw and festering. “You’re still lying to me?”

She was beyond despair. No tears left. Blood seeped between her teeth from the bitterness.

“Where is my son?”

His hand closed around her throat. His eyes blazed red.

“Silas. I was assaulted.”

“I will never believe you again.”

Each word ground out from between his teeth, sharp as a blade, severing whatever thread still connected him to her.

Elara’s face was turning a horrible, mottled purple when the door burst open. His men rushed in. “Sir, we found the boy. He was at a children’s hospital. No injuries, just scared and crying.”

Silas exhaled.

Then his expression hardened. He hurled Elara to the floor. “You’d better pray Cole is okay.” Before he walked out, he gave the order, his voice ice-cold. “Take Mrs. Voss downstairs. She knows what she’s earned. Don’t stop until I say so.”

The words hit her like a physical blow. She struggled, desperate to flee, but hands clamped around her arms and dragged her down.

The whip cracked against her back. Skin split open. All she could see was endless darkness and despair. Elara gritted her teeth and endured, counting each strike. One. Two. She lost track somewhere past fifty. But she never stopped counting. She counted until her voice gave out.

Three days later, covered in wounds, her clothes soaked with blood, she crawled out of the Discipline Quarters. She finally got her hands on her things.

Her phone showed countless missed calls from the Coastal Docks contact. She dialed back, her hands trembling. “Take me with you. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

She hung up. Then she spotted one of Silas’s Bentley Mulsannes still parked in the garage. She climbed into the driver’s seat, battered and unsteady.

She reached the docks. In the vast darkness, the signal lights of the waiting ship blinked toward her.

She slammed her foot on the gas and sped straight toward the cliff’s edge.