My Dad's Bestfriend (Evelyn and Jacob) novel Chapter 228

Evelyn

My eyes blinked open to darkness. Well, a room barely deserving the name. Crumbling walls, shattered water pipes, and the constant drip of water hitting the damp floor surrounded me. The cold wetness had seeped through my boots, and sweat slicked my skin—not from heat, but from the suffocating gag biting into my mouth.

"Well, well." His voice slithered through the room, echoing off the broken walls and scraping against my nerves. "Someone's finally awake, huh?"

Through the haze of drowsiness, I saw him. Tyler. He stood before me, a knife glinting in his hand, the blade catching what little light filtered through the cracks. The silence wrapped around us, broken only by the distant chirping of crickets. No passing cars, no sign of life—just isolation. Wherever I was, it was a place no one with good intentions would tread.

He moved closer, his eyes as dark as his twisted heart. He crouched before me, his knife still in hand, his presence suffocating.

I pressed back against the chair, every inch of me recoiling. He'd positioned me against the wall—had he been afraid I might tip over and ruin his sick little game?

"Don't be scared, Belladonna." His voice dropped to a whisper, a cruel smile curling his lips. "We haven't even started yet."

The blade's cold edge traced over my jean-clad thigh, and a whimper slipped through my gag. My eyes followed the metal's path, but fear kept my lids pinned open. I couldn't look away. I couldn't risk not seeing what came next.

Tyler terrified me. He unraveled me down to my bones.

But then my gaze snagged on the bandage around my hand—the very hand he'd cut before. Confusion clawed its way through my fear. He'd patched me up, but why? Why tend to a wound if he planned worse?

The thought vanished as he pressed the knife's tip under my chin, tilting my head until our eyes met.

"Speaking of starting the game..." His tone was almost playful, but a sharp undercurrent of malice twisted every word. "Tell me, how should we begin?"

He leaned closer, his breath brushing against my skin. "You've got options, sweetheart, but every one of them ends with that cute little—what do you call it? Oh, Sienna." His tongue curled around the name, drawing it out. "Every path leads to your sweet Sienna being ripped right out of your belly. So, why not pick the quickest route? The sooner it's over, the better for you."

A shiver tore through me, raw and violent. The chair rattled beneath me, my body betraying the terror I couldn't hide. Even if someone were miles away, they'd know how badly I was shaking.

I tried to speak, but the gag turned my voice to muffled, broken sounds.

"Oh, right. You need to talk." Tyler chuckled, and with a casual cruelty, he yanked the gag free. Air rushed into my lungs, burning, sharp. My chest heaved as I sucked in breath after desperate breath.

"Bad call with the gag, huh?" He feigned sympathy, a mocking tilt to his head. "I wondered if you'd die before I even started. That would've been a shame."

"Tyler, please." My voice trembled, tears clouding my vision. "Whatever happened between us—my baby has nothing to do with it. She's innocent. I'll talk to Jacob. I'll make him give you back everything. Just—"

His finger pressed against my lips, a mockery of gentleness.

"Shh, it's okay," he whispered, his voice a silk-covered blade. "Don't rush. Breathe properly. If that baby dies in your womb, how will I kill it before your eyes?"

His tone was soft, almost tender, but the words dripped with venom. They burrowed under my skin, embedding themselves in my blood, in my bones.

This nightmare was only beginning.

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