When He Comes…

~~Amber~~

Being blind and cruel—those two words aren’t enough to define Zeden. I wasn’t the only one who’d heard stories. They say he doesn’t flinch before killing. A monster. A cold-blooded killer.

They say he collects girls. Young ones. Virgins. Keeps them locked away for his twisted pleasure. Uses them like objects.

Now, looking at the innocent little girl in front of me… I realize this man is even worse than the rumors say.

He’s not just some perverse, pleasure-hungry blind bastard.

He’s raising her in this blood-soaked prison—training her to become one of his future toys.

This isn’t a guess. My gut never lies.

I let out a heavy breath, watching the girl stare at me with those wide eyes.

“What’s your name, princess?” I asked softly, trying to reach out through the small opening between us.

But she stepped back.

“Are you my mother?” Her voice was small. “The maid said my mother would come today. That’s why I’m wearing this dress…” She looked down, a little sad, a little confused.

I swallowed. “No, sweetheart. I’m not your mother. But if you want to call me that… that’s okay.”

She looked up again.

“So tell me… where’s your dad?”

“He’s here. But he said he’s busy today. He doesn’t want to see me.” She took a small step closer.

That heartless bastard must be using her father. Maybe he’s got him trapped too. Maybe the man’s out there doing something illegal just to keep this girl breathing.

“When did you come here, princess? Can you tell me your name?”

“I’ve been here all my life.” She moved in, crouching so her face was near mine. Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He says it’s dangerous outside. That his enemies could find me and kill me.” She chuckled, but there was no real joy behind it.

I frowned. The little girl doesn't know that her father's real enemy is Zeden, the bastard who owns this mansion.

“My father promised he’d bring my mother soon… so I thought maybe you were her.” She stood back up slowly.

My throat tightened. “Don’t worry, baby. When I find a way out of this place… I’ll come back for you.”

“But he won’t let me leave.” She shook her head. “I told you… I’m not allowed outside.”

“Then we’ll all leave together,” I whispered, trying to keep the hope in my voice. “Now… will you be brave enough to tell me your name?”

“It’s—”

“Zameera!”

Another voice cut through the air. Cold. Sharp. Female.

And I saw how the girl flinched. Fear crept into her little face.

I grabbed her hand and held it tight. “Come here, baby. I won’t let them take you. They’re the monsters… not you.”

“It’s the maid,” Zameera whispered. “She is here to take me. She’ll tell my papa and… and he’ll be so mad…”

Her voice cracked, trembling.

I didn’t know what kind of father he really was. Was he kind to her? Or just blind to what was planned for her? Did he even care that his daughter was being raised for something twisted?

“Zameera,” the maid snapped. “How many times have I told you not to leave your room? Do you want your father angry?”

The woman looked like every other soul in this house—cold, stiff, lifeless. Nothing about her felt human.

Zameera let out a whimper.

“Leave her alone,” I said, pulling her closer, but the only barrier was the iron door. “She doesn’t want to go with you. What is it now, huh? Is she next? You people don’t even spare the children anymore?”

The maid’s face twisted into something darker.

“You better watch that tongue, woman,” she hissed. “Just because the Don let you run your mouth without punishment doesn’t mean you’re untouchable. Keep talking and I’ll rip it out before he remembers he likes it wrapped around his cock.”

“You disgust me!” I snapped, pulling Zameera closer more and covering her ears. “You say that in front of a child?”

The woman didn’t flinch.

“Come here, girl,” she barked. “You better be sorry. Your father will be furious when he finds out you sneaked off to speak to a prisoner.”

Zameera sobbed. “No, ma’am… Daya, please don’t tell him. I thought she was my mother… You said she’d come today. Please don’t tell Papa!”

I clenched my fists.

What kind of place was this?

What kind of man lets his daughter grow up in a cage like this—surrounded by monsters in the dark?

And what kind of father promises his daughter a mother… and sends her into the arms of a killer?

I scrambled back into the corner, my knees burning against the cold floor. My shouts and desperate pleads weren’t enough to stop that old, cruel wench from dragging Zameera away.

I started wondering—what would her father do to her? She looked so scared… So damn scared.

I hadn’t eaten. Not even a drop of water had touched my lips since they brought me here. Only the taste of my own sweat and tears. That’s all I knew now.

I curled into myself, facing the cracked wall. My body shook, not from fear, but from the cold. The hunger clawed deeper than the pain in my chest. The thin fabric I wore barely clung to my skin, useless against the icy air seeping into my bones.

It was getting darker. The little bit of light that once slipped through the tiny hole above had already faded.

And then—I heard it.

The heavy sound of locks turning.

Footsteps.

I didn’t turn. I didn’t flinch. Whoever it was—if they were here to take my life, they could have it. I wouldn’t beg. I wouldn’t cry. I would rather die than give my body to Zeden.

But… Zameera.

I promised her I’d come back. I told her we’d leave together.

The footsteps grew louder, closer. But still no words. Then… a smell hit me.

Roasted meat. Bread. Something sweet.

My stomach growled loud and angry, betraying me.

Still—I didn’t move.

And then… I felt it.

Warmth.

A body behind me. Large. Close. The heat of him pressed against my back. A strong arm snaked around me—and slid low.

Too low.

Near my pussy.