He Murdered My Father For Her

Allyson Cote POV:

My head slammed against the cold stone, a searing pain igniting behind my eyes.

For a moment, the world spun, vision blurring, then slowly, agonizingly, it swam back into focus. Archer.

He stood over Kennedy, cradling her in his arms, his cheek pressed gently against her hair.

His eyes, usually so calculating, were filled with a tenderness I had only ever dreamed of receiving.

He looked at me then, his gaze colder than ice, a stranger' s stare.

"What have you done?" His voice was a guttural growl, filled with a furious protectiveness I had never witnessed, not even when I was injured. "How dare you touch her?"

Kennedy, nestled in his embrace, sobbed theatrically.

"She just… she just went crazy, Archer! She attacked me for no reason! She broke my nose!"

Her voice was muffled, but her words, dripping with false innocence, twisted the knife deeper.

"And she smashed Hades' favorite toy! She's so jealous, so vicious!"

Hades' favorite toy. My father's precious, handmade bird.

Kennedy looked at me, a triumphant smirk flashing across her tear-streaked face.

"Don't lie!" I gasped, my voice raw, my body aching.

"She smashed my father's keepsake! She provoked me!"

Archer' s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on Kennedy.

"Allyson, enough! I saw what you did. You're out of control. Spoiled. Vicious. I'm disappointed in you." He cut me off before I could even try to explain.

"You will apologize to Kennedy. Now."

My blood ran cold.

Apologize?

After everything?

He was truly blind.

"I will not," I spat, defiance burning in my eyes.

Archer' s face hardened. He pulled out his phone.

"Guards! Get down here! And I want her confined. Give her ten times what Kennedy suffered. Let her learn her lesson."

Two burly bodyguards materialized, their faces impassive.

They grabbed me, their hands rough, unyielding. My arms were twisted behind my back, a sharp pain shooting through my shoulder.

Archer, holding Kennedy close, walked away, his back to me. He didn't even glance back.

He just left me there, to the mercy of his men.

The sight of his retreating back, his complete indifference to my suffering, was the final, devastating blow.

My heart, already shattered, crumbled into dust.

The guards were brutal, just as Archer had commanded.

Blow after blow rained down on me. I bit back a scream, refusing to give them, or Archer, the satisfaction of hearing me break.

My face swelled, my vision blurred with unshed tears and pain.

My body felt like a bruised pulp.

Finally, they dragged me, a broken rag doll, back to my room.

They threw me onto the hard floor like a piece of trash.

I landed with a sickening thud, a cry escaping my lips as my back hit the ground. I curled into a ball, shaking uncontrollably, every inch of my body screaming in agony.

"Just let it end," I whimpered, a desperate prayer. "Please, just let it end."

The darkness mercifully swallowed me.

I dreamed.

A long, beautiful dream of my father, his arms around me, his gentle smile, my mother laughing nearby. A dream of a normal, happy life, free from the shadows of betrayal and cruelty.

It was a sweet, agonizing torment.

The dream was shattered by a splash of icy water.

I gasped, my eyes flying open, my body convulsing from the shock.

The cold, harsh reality slammed into me. I was lying on a cold, tiled floor.

This wasn' t my bedroom.It wasn't Archer's house.

Where was I?