img Captive Of The Ruthless Warlord Boss  /  Chapter 2 | 5.00%
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Chapter 2

Word Count: 1155    |    Released on: 21/05/2026

in the line, the heat pressing against her skull like a vice. Her lips were cracked and dry. A

was thrashing against a guard. The guard raised the heavy wooden stock of his rifle and brought it down across the c

She dug her fingernails into the sides of her own thighs, us

. His name was Rico Vargas. A thick cigar sat clamped between his teeth. As he stopped in fr

ing painfully into her cheeks. He wrenched her face side to side, his eyes scanning her

shirt. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, rapid

rough finger along her teeth. The degradation burned through her veins, a hot,

his pocket, tapped the screen twice, and look

m behind the guards. They grabbed Haley by the upper arms, their grips like

under her. She opened her mouth, her v

ded with Haley's cheekbone. The impact snapped Haley's head to the side. A high-

pen washroom. The floor was sloped toward a central drain. The air inside was thick with the

of rusted, heavy-duty shears from her apron. She grabbed the coll

s instinctively crossed over her chest, her hands clutching her shoulders. A hot

rete. Alma placed a heavy hand on Haley's shoulder and shoved her backward. Haley's

d. A high-pressure

tiny knives. It instantly stripped the heat from her body. Her lungs seized. She couldn't draw a breath. S

vy block of coarse, industrial livestock soap. She grabbed Ha

grinding against sunburn. Long, angry red welts appeared on her ar

ity. The harsh, chemical-scented lather burned the cuts on her

d from an envelope, flashed behind Haley's eyelids. The memory was a spark. The spark caught on t

panic in her pupils hardened

rmly on the wet concrete. She straightened her spine, dropping her arms to her sides,

shift in the girl's posture. The brush strokes slowed, losing a fract

Haley stood dripping, her skin flushed a violent, angry red. Her lips were entirely

It was a thin, semi-transparent white slip

s, dragging the cold, damp fabric over her head. The dress clung to

thed comb brutally through the tangles, pulling hard enough to make Haley's scalp bu

engaged. It was a barcode. Haley stared at the black lines and the

m. They raised the barrels of their rifle

her bare feet leaving wet prints on the concrete, and walked out into the

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