Aria's POV
The morning arrived, heavy with the same dread that had taken residence in my chest. The room was cold and unrelenting, its silence broken only by my shallow breaths. Then, the door creaked open, and there he was. The man who had turned my world into this living hell. His presence filled the room like a dark storm, suffocating and inescapable.
"Good morning, sweetheart," he drawled, his tone soaked in mockery. A cruel smirk played on his lips as he studied me, taking in the bruises and the defeated slump of my shoulders. "You look worse than yesterday. Guess that means nobody's coming for you, huh?"
His words struck a chord of despair that I had tried so hard to bury. I met his gaze, refusing to let him see the full depth of my fear, though my voice betrayed me. It was barely a whisper. "Just kill me already," I said, the words slipping out before I could stop them. There was no point in hope anymore; it only made the fall harder.
