Page 24 of Haunted (Blackwood Brothers #1)

MIRA

M y legs shake as I stumble through the maze, Xavier’s words echoing in my mind like a curse. Run fast, angel. The taste of him still lingers on my tongue, a reminder of what I just did—how I surrendered to him completely.

I hate myself—hate how I’m doing exactly what he commanded, running like prey so he can hunt me down again. Most of all, I hate how that thrills me.

My bare feet slap against the cold stone as I turn corner after corner, the red silk barely covering anything as it rides up with each desperate step. The fabric clings to my sweat-dampened skin, a constant reminder of how exposed and vulnerable I am.

What happened back there was the single most erotic moment of my life, and that realization makes me sick.

I should be disgusted. I should be planning my escape, figuring out how to expose this twisted game.

Instead, I'm running deeper into the maze because Xavier told me to, my nerves still humming with the memory of his hands, his voice, and the way he made me feel completely and utterly owned.

I was putty in his hands. Complete putty.

“Fuck,” I whisper, pressing my back against a wall. My chest rises and falls rapidly, the silk top barely containing my breasts as they strain against the flimsy fabric.

I force myself to start moving again, turning another corner in this endless labyrinth. But then I stop dead, my mouth falling open in shock.

The walls. They’re not walls anymore—they’re massive screens, floor to ceiling, surrounding me on all sides. And playing on those screens...

“Oh my God.”

Explicit scenes fill every surface. Bodies writhing together, masks hiding faces, while naked flesh is displayed in high definition. I recognize some of the locations—other parts of this maze, other rooms in this twisted complex.

My blood turns to ice when I spot myself on one of the screens. I’m spread over the bench and restrained, Xavier’s hands fisted in my hair as I?—

“No, no, no,” I breathe, backing away from the screen only to collide with another wall displaying the same horrific footage. My humiliation, my surrender, broadcast for anyone watching to see.

On another screen, Julian dominates Elliot.

I’m surrounded by depravity, by evidence of what happened, of what I willingly participated in .

Then I see her. Cora.

My heart stops completely as I spot her on one of the screens, and bile rises in my throat. She’s surrounded by three massive masked men, all muscle-bound and inked, their hands roaming over her form as she struggles against their grip.

“No!” I scream, lunging toward the screen as if I could somehow reach through it to help her. “Get away from her!”

But the men don’t stop. One holds Cora’s arms behind her back while another traces patterns across her exposed skin with deliberate slowness. The third circles her, his masked face tilted as he studies her fear.

I can see the terror in Cora’s eyes and the way her mouth moves as she pleads with them. This isn’t like what happened with Keira—Cora doesn’t want this. She’s trapped, helpless, and it’s all my fault.

“This is my fault,” I whisper, my hands pressed against the screen as tears blur my vision. “This is all my fucking fault.”

I brought her here. I let her sign that NDA. I knew Xavier was dangerous, knew this place was a trap, and I still let my best friend walk into it because I was too selfish to face it alone.

The guilt crashes over me like a tidal wave. While I was on my knees surrendering to Xavier’s twisted games, Cora was being hunted by these monsters. While I was discovering dark parts of myself I never knew existed, she was fighting for her safety.

I turn frantically, searching for a way out of this chamber of horrors. The screens tower over me on every side, making me feel like I’m drowning in the evidence of what we’ve all become.

“I have to find her,” I say aloud, my voice echoing off the walls. “I have to get to Cora.”

I start running again, no longer caring about Xavier’s twisted game or his commands. Forget the investigation. Forget the story. Forget everything except getting to my best friend before those men damage her irreversibly.

My bare feet pound against the stone as I race through corridor after corridor, desperation driving me forward. The red silk clings to my curves, restricting my movement, but I push through the discomfort.

I have to reach her. I have to save her from the mess I created.

“You can’t save her, angel.”

Xavier’s voice echoes from speakers hidden somewhere in the walls, surrounding me with his dark amusement. The sound makes my skin crawl as I spin around, searching for the source.

“She’s been captured. Three of Ravenwood’s finest have their hands on your precious friend, and there’s no breaking a claim once it’s made.”

“You sick fuck!” I scream at the walls, at the screens, at wherever he’s watching from. “Let her go! This is between you and me!”

His laughter fills the chamber, rich and sadistic, the sound of a man who feeds on suffering. “Is it, though? You brought her here, Mira. You signed her rights away the moment you let her walk into my office. ”

The truth of his words hits me like a physical blow. I did this. I dragged Cora into this nightmare, hellbent on finding the truth.

“She doesn’t deserve this,” I choke out, my fists clenched so tight my nails dig crescents into my palms. “Let me take her place.”

“There’s no chance any other man is laying a hand on you,” Xavier’s voice cuts through the speakers with deadly finality. “You’re mine now. I’ve caught you, and no one else will touch what belongs to me.”

His possessive words send a shiver down my spine that I hate myself for feeling. Even now, even with Cora in danger, my body responds to the dark promise in his voice.

“I don’t belong to you,” I spit at the walls, though we both know it’s a lie. After what happened in that room, after how completely I surrendered to him, the claim feels branded into my very soul.

"Don't you? Your actions say otherwise. The way you took my cock in your mouth begged me not to stop—that was surrender. Complete and total surrender."

Heat flames across my cheeks as the memory crashes over me. The taste of him, the way I’d moaned around his length, how desperately I’d wanted more, even as my mind screamed that it was wrong.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” I lie.

“It means everything. You’re mine now, and I don’t share what’s mine.” His voice hardens. “There will be no taking her place. No heroic sacrifices. Cora belongs to those men now—all three of them—and there’s nothing you can do to change it.”

The screens around me flicker, and suddenly, Cora’s face fills every surface. She’s pressed between two of the massive men now, her head thrown back as hands roam over her exposed skin. The third man watches patiently, waiting for his turn.

“No,” I whisper, pressing my palms against the nearest screen. “Please, she’s innocent in this. She doesn’t understand what she signed up for.”

“Neither did you, yet here we are.” Xavier’s voice carries a dark satisfaction. “She signed the same contract you did. Gave the same consent. What happens to her now is what she agreed to.”

My legs give out, and I sink to my knees, the cold stone biting through the thin silk. The screens tower over me, forcing me to watch as my best friend is taken by men who will use her however they please.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Xavier’s voice drops to a whisper. “You wanted the truth about what happens here. Now you have it.”

This is my fault. All of it.

My obsession with uncovering corruption, being the journalist who breaks the biggest story, brought me here. My relentless pursuit of the Blackwoods led me straight into Xavier’s web, and I dragged Cora down with me.

I didn’t pay attention to the warnings. Didn’t listen when people told me to leave it alone. I pushed and pushed because I needed to know, needed to expose them, needed to prove I was brave enough to take on Ravenwood’s most dangerous family.

And now Cora is paying the price for my arrogance.

“This is what happens when you dig too deep,” I whisper to myself, my voice breaking as I stare at the screens surrounding me. “This is what happens when you think you’re untouchable.”

I thought I was so smart, so clever. I convinced myself I could outmaneuver Xavier Blackwood, that I could use him to get what I wanted and walk away unscathed. I believed my own bullshit about being fearless, about justice mattering more than safety.

But I wasn’t fearless. I was reckless. And the difference between those two things is now crystal clear as I watch my best friend become the victim of my choices.

“You wanted the truth so badly,” I choke out, tears streaming down my face. “Look what your precious truth cost.”

Every lead I followed, every question I asked, every boundary I crossed—it all led here. To this maze. To these screens. Cora is trapped between three men who see her as nothing more than an object to be used.

My hands shake as I press them against the cold stone floor, trying to ground myself. The red silk clings to my sweat-dampened skin, a reminder of how completely I’ve been stripped of everything—my clothes, my dignity, my illusions about being in control.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice echoing off the walls. “Cora, I’m so fucking sorry.”

But sorry doesn’t undo the contracts we signed. Sorry doesn’t free her from those men or erase what’s about to happen to her. Sorry is another useless word in a place where words have no power.

I destroyed everything because I needed to know the truth. And now I know exactly what that truth costs.

The sound of footsteps echoes through the corridor behind me, slow and deliberate. My blood turns to ice as I recognize the confident stride, the way each step seems calculated to maximize the psychological impact.

I don’t need to turn around to know who it is.

Xavier.

Adrenaline floods my system as fight-or-flight kicks in. I dart to my feet, the silk riding up as I scramble to stand and start running without looking back.

I can’t handle him catching me again. I can’t handle another encounter where my visceral reactions betray everything I thought I believed about myself. Can’t handle the way he makes me forget everything except the dark hunger in his voice and the promise of surrender in his touch.

My bare feet slap against the stone as I race down the corridor, putting as much distance as possible between us.