Bound by Secrets and Desires

Chapter 1

A wave of agonizing pain assaulted Elena Fairchild’s senses the moment she came to, causing her to gasp sharply as she fought to open her eyes and assess her surroundings.
The bizarre and colorful lights danced across the deep crimson velvet walls, while a soft linen couch brushed against her exposed skin, chilly to the touch. The thumping beats of rock music boomed from the speakers, and silhouetted figures loomed in the dim light—four or five shadows in total.
Instinctively, Elena twisted her wrist, only to realize it was bound with something—something that felt like a luxurious fabric, perhaps a tie. Abrasions stung all over her body.
She’d been drugged and then kidnapped.
The realization nearly sent her heart into a tailspin.
A loud scraping sound from a barstool brought her mind back. As she felt the urge to open her eyes, she quickly shut them again, breathing shallowly to maintain the act of unconsciousness, her ears tuned to the conversation around her.
“Did I give her too much? That sedative should’ve worked perfectly.”
“She’s bound to wake up soon. Don’t worry, Henry, she’ll be yours before long.”
“Ugh, this girl is something else. When I was nice to her, she wouldn’t give in, and now that we’re through, she has the nerve to act all haughty. She really doesn’t know when to quit.”
“Right? Who dares to insult our Henry?”
Their banter continued, completely unaware that the person they were talking about was lucid and listening closely.
A timid female voice broke through, seemingly terrified of the men, gently asking, “Henry, I’ve brought her as promised. What’s my next step after graduation?”
“Just wait for your agent to reach out and sign the contract. Now scram,” came the agitated reply.
“Thank you, Henry.” The grateful tone faded away as the girl exited the room.
Elena froze on the couch. That voice… it was her best friend, Bella Heartsong.
“Hey, hurry up and give her that drug. Let’s show her just how blissful life can get, ha!”
Before she could react, Elena felt someone roughly lift her head. A cold container was pressed to her lips, and icy liquid poured in.
Bad idea.
She struggled to keep the fluid under her tongue, but some slipped down her throat. With the person’s hands occupied, Elena seized the moment—she kicked her knee up hard into their stomach.
“Ugh!” The man doubled over, shocked by the sudden awakening of the “unconscious” girl, dropping the drug bottle as he clutched his gut and sank to his knees.
Elena tumbled to the floor, scrambling to her feet. The tie binding her wrists was now loose enough for her to wriggle free. She discreetly spat out the remnants of the drug and eyed the three remaining men warily.
Another man lunged at her. Panic surged through Elena as she instinctively lifted her leg. The attacker was caught off guard and slammed into her knee, howling in pain as he crumpled, hands gripping his injured area.
Henry, witnessing Elena’s unexpected defiance and how she had taken down two of his men, seethed, his expression darkening. “You think you can escape? How naive.”
Fury bubbled within Elena. “Henry, you scoundrel!”
The man standing before her was her first love—no, more accurately, her ex-boyfriend who had just cast her aside for Yara Whitfield.
Elena stood her ground, her heart racing. The stakes were higher than ever, and with every breath, she became more determined to fight back and reclaim her freedom.

Chapter 2

Henry Rivers was tall and strikingly handsome, always wearing a facade of gentle nobility. However, when he faced the defiance of Elena Fairchild, he couldn’t hide the hint of darkness creeping into his expression.
"Well, well, Elena Fairchild, I see you've learned to fight back," Henry scoffed, rising from his seat, completely dismissing her. He stepped closer, looking down at the petite girl slumped on the couch, his voice low and threatening. "If you agree to listen to me today, I might consider indulging you in your little games. After graduation, I could even arrange for a good management company to take care of you. But if you refuse..."
Elena stared at this familiar yet alien face, only feeling anger in her heart. "Henry Rivers, I don’t need you to play games with me. Let me go."
Furious, Henry remembered how rare it was to find a girl as innocent as Elena in Windwood University's Theatre Department. He had intended to guide her, but after three months, she hadn’t even let him hold her hand—let alone kissing or anything more intimate.
Naturally flirtatious, he was running out of patience. He decided to take matters into his own hands, intending to teach the stubborn girl a lesson. If she thought she could resist him, he would show her that what Henry Rivers desired could never escape him. She didn't want him to touch her? He would take what he wanted.
Henry's grip tightened on Elena’s delicate shoulder as he leaned in.
"Ah."
Henry's eyes locked onto Elena's slowly descending left arm just before she delivered a powerful uppercut.
Unprepared, he was caught completely off guard.
Clutching his jaw in pain, blood pooling in his mouth, all traces of his earlier arrogance vanished, replaced by disbelief. "You... you little brat. How dare you hit me?"
Elena's chest rose and fell quickly. Her motion was merely a reflex to the danger, and she hadn’t expected to strike him so hard. Exhausted herself from the drug she had swallowed—which she had vomited most of, yet some residue remained—her legs weakened, unable to carry her properly.
Still, she glared defiantly at the bent-over Henry, her long black hair cascading messily behind her. The fire in her bright starry eyes made her delicate features shine all the more brilliantly. Her petite nose flared, lips pressed tightly together, her fair complexion flushed a deeper shade, making her even more alluring.
This version of Elena was unlike any Henry had ever seen—like a sword drawn from its sheath, strong and confident. Even while her little dress lay tattered from their struggle, she couldn’t hide her elegance.
He hadn’t anticipated such depth beneath her innocent exterior.
This Elena Fairchild drove him wild with desire.
Dark emotions flickered in Henry’s gaze as he surged forward, gripping her wrist tightly and yanking her closer, his other hand clawing at her dress, struggling to rip it away. His breath was ragged. "You little witch..."
Elena stifled the tingling sensations blossoming within her and pulled away from Henry's grasp, stumbling toward the door. But he yanked her hair, making her scalp sting.
Damn it.
Gritting her teeth, Elena burst through the door, catching Henry off guard. His nose collided painfully into the door frame, blood gushing from his face as he swayed, finally releasing her hair and crumpling to the floor.
"Whoa..." Elena gasped, her strength drained as she leaned heavily against the door.
The remnants of the drug began to take hold, heating her body from within. She felt like she was suffocating, the world around her dimming.
Struggling to hold herself up, Elena leaned against the door frame, fighting to keep her eyes open. Suddenly, a pair of immaculately polished black shoes appeared in front of her.
She slowly lifted her head, following the crisp line of the tailored pants upward.
The long, striking figure clad in a charcoal gray suit exuded a vibrant confidence, complemented by his perfectly tailored black shirt with silver accents. The bar’s garish lights illuminated him, drawing attention to his sculpted collarbone, leading up to a neck blessed with elegant contours.
His sharply defined features—brows painted in rich darkness, piercing eagle-like eyes—were framed by a full forehead and a straight nose. The delicate curve of his lips formed a striking contrast, giving him the look of a renaissance masterpiece radiating divine perfection.
Elena's eyes brightened, reaching out as if to touch him, but her body failed her, and she faintly whispered, “Uncle…”
The composed man stood under the swirling lights, almost like a celestial being who had just descended from above. In that split second of Elena collapsing, he stepped forward and caught her limp form, turning to his stunned assistant. “Clean up the mess we just discussed,” he commanded.
The assistant nodded, looking up just in time to see his boss effortlessly scoop up the girl without glancing back.
"You can clock out for the day,” he instructed.

Chapter 3

Elena Fairchild squirmed uncomfortably in the passenger seat, her delicate fingers tugging at her collar, her red lips slightly parted as she let out a soft whimper.
Thomas Windrider carefully settled Elena into the passenger seat before walking around to the driver's side. He didn’t start the engine right away; instead, he leaned over to fasten the seatbelt across her.
The cool, cologne-scented air enveloped Elena as she inhaled, making her arms rise instinctively to rest on his shoulder. She nestled her head against his neck, her soft breath mingling with the fragrance, creating a heady mix that darkened Thomas's gaze.
“Stay still,” he said sharply, then hesitated for a moment, feeling the flutter of something deep within him. He gently removed her wandering hands from his shoulders and retreated back into the driver’s seat, running a hand over his shirt collar, still tingling from her soft touch.
Elena hummed softly as she adjusted her position in the seat, and didn’t stir anymore until Thomas parked the car. As he lifted her out, she instinctively wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.
A hint of a smile flickered across Thomas's usually austere features as he carried Elena into the Highest Tower Lodge. He kicked the door open, striding confidently inside, and tossed Elena onto the plush bed, which cushioned her effortlessly.
“Um... Uncle,” she murmured, feeling the springy mattress catch her lightweight form. The sensation shook her out of her daze, and she blinked her slightly clouded gaze at the tall, striking man standing nearby.
Thomas had already discarded his charcoal-gray suit jacket and loosened his shirt collar, his handsome features barely illuminated by the starlight streaming in through the window, revealing a curious glint in his eyes.
With one leg propped on the bed, he placed a rough yet gentle hand over Elena's flushed cheeks, stroking her features lightly while speaking in a low, alluring rumble, “You're awake.”
Elena felt his hand cover her eyes, heightening every sense her body had as it reacted to the effects of the medication. Every nerve screamed for soothing contact.
His tender touch sent a leisurely wave of coolness through her, providing a brief respite from the fiery discomfort enveloping her.
“Uncle...” she whimpered softly, the sweetness of her voice oscillating between a plea and a seductive invitation as she propped herself up. She no longer cared about her slipping strap, exposing her pale shoulder to the silvery glow of the moonlight, glistening like a pearl.
Thomas's expression darkened at her exposed skin, and he snapped, wrapping his arms around her slight frame, pulling her possessively into him. He lowered his face to her neck, inhaling her scent deeply, his lips brushing against her flushed ear. His voice was raw, “You look like you need release.”
Although Elena's mind was still hazy, her weary body leaned into him instinctively. Only his cool presence could alleviate her turmoil.
With her arms encircling his waist, she could feel the strength of his frame beneath the fabric, radiating an enticing warmth and sweetness that was intoxicating to her senses. Her lips grazed against his throat, feeling the steady pulse beneath his skin, as she murmured, “Uncle, it’s been so long since you’ve come back... Did you come back... to be my antidote?”
Thomas paused, contemplating her words as he studied her closely in the moonlight, the longing evident in his expression.

Chapter 4

Under the soft glow of the moonlight, Elena Fairchild's originally elegant and striking features were cast in a gentle light. With her eyes lazily squinted, she tilted her head to look at Thomas Windrider. Her lips, aglow with the lingering effect of emotion, parted slightly, revealing a neat row of silver teeth.
Feeling somewhat dissatisfied to leave the cool embrace of his arms, she mischievously tugged at the black shirt he wore. Delicate fingers curled gently at his collarbone, and her silky-soft lips brushed against the corner of his mouth as she purred in a gentle, cat-like voice, "Uncle Thomas... take me to the bathroom, please..."
Elena hadn’t seen Thomas in a long while. After he adopted her, he would disappear abroad for extended periods, only returning home once every couple of years. In her memory, there had never been any intimate gestures between them.
Yet, Elena held an almost blind dependency on him.
Thomas Windrider was still caught up in the daring boldness of her request when he effortlessly lifted her off the ground, his body driven by an impulse he couldn't control.
As they entered the bathroom, Thomas found himself musing quietly that he must be seriously ill for feeling something for this girl he had raised for so long.
A light sheen of sweat glistened on Elena’s skin, the delicate pink of her pale neck stepping into view as she settled into the spacious bathtub with Thomas’s help. She then raised her hand to turn on the showerhead, and icy water cascaded down without warning.
Thomas frowned and reached to adjust the temperature. But just as his fingers touched the handle, Elena seized his wrist. In the cold water, she, trying to suppress her own excitement, looked up with her moist eyes—both a bit frantic and pleading—at the Thomas, who was braced against the bathtub’s edge, "Uncle Thomas... I’m okay now, you can go..."
"Elena, you've really grown up," Thomas suddenly burst into a charming smile. His usually stoic face was illuminated with warmth, his once icy demeanor softened by an alluring glint. He let out a low, resonant laugh that washed over Elena, cutting her off mid-sentence.
Leaning forward, he cupped her neck, forcing her to meet his gaze. His fingertip grazed her tender lips, and his breath lingered teasingly near her still-blushing ear, "You truly don’t need Uncle Thomas to be your remedy anymore."
His typically ice-cold lips curved upward in a genuine smile.
Elena understood that he was playfully teasing her about being 'ungrateful,' but now, with her body drenched from the spray, the thin fabric of her sundress barely concealed her enticing curves. A hint of a blush and indignation graced her youthful face, making her look even more like a fresh flower emerging from the water, embodying both youthful innocence and womanly charm.
In front of others, Thomas Windrider was known for his cold and proud demeanor; when had he ever humbly served someone else’s bath?
But confronted by those dark, piercing eyes that seemed to threaten to devour her, Elena found herself pouting timidly, nearly pleading as she murmured, "Uncle Thomas, what I just said… was nonsense. How could you trust the words of someone who isn’t thinking clearly?"
Thomas straightened up at her words, hands now resting in the pockets of his tailored slacks. The smile at the corner of his lips faded, replaced by a rare softness in his gaze as he silently observed the girl shrinking in the bath for a moment before he obediently turned and exited the bathroom.
He strode out, taking care to close the door behind him. The warm orange light from the bathroom cast an unexpected warmth on his tall, striking figure, adding a touch of gentleness—the kind that had never been associated with the man often referred to as ‘the tyrant’ of Windwood City.
Who was Thomas Windrider?
The heir of the powerful Windrider family, known for his impeccable lineage, who had once carved a bloody path through the special forces under the codename 'Wolf,' and now firmly grip the reins of both the legal and underworld of Windwood City. To defy him was to call for disaster.
Rich beyond compare, powerful beyond measure—when had anyone ever found a way to make him yield?
Yet, facing this girl he had intentionally left behind, he discovered that she had morphed into a creature capable of stirring emotions within him that had long been left undisturbed.
Pulling out his phone, he dialed his assistant, maintaining a calm and rational tone, "Let my father know I'll be staying in Windwood City for a while. No need for concern."
Without pausing to consider the surprised tones of his assistant, the man trailed off his intention to fly abroad the next morning, casually hung up, and absentmindedly brushed his thumb over the corner of his mouth where Elena's lips had touched moments earlier.
"Look how you've grown, my little kitten."

Chapter 5

Elena Fairchild woke up once again, the soft glow of morning light filtering through sheer curtains, casting a warm hue on the stark black-and-white furnishings of the apartment. The chill that filled the room seemed to dissipate slightly.
Still feeling dazed, she glanced around, her throbbing head slowly clearing. Suddenly, she jumped out of bed, gasping as she realized she was wrapped only in a thin blanket, which she quickly pulled around herself.
She was completely naked. Biting her lip in a mixture of embarrassment and confusion, Elena carefully inspected the sheets for any 'suspicious' marks. Upon confirming that the pristine white sheets were unblemished, she released a sigh of relief and made her way to the window, parting the curtains just enough to catch a glimpse outside.
The expansive floor-to-ceiling windows framed a breathtaking view of Windwood City below her, where the iconic Pearl Viewing Tower appeared to be dwarfed by her current elevation. In that moment, it struck her: she was at the very top of the Imperial Hall of Fortune.
Built just three years ago, the Imperial Hall had quickly become a symbol of luxury in Windwood City. With eighty-eight floors, the building boasted single-unit residences per floor. Access to the elevators and garage was tightly controlled through fingerprint security, making it one of the most exclusive residences in the city.
According to rumors, the penthouse apartment on the top floor offered an unparalleled view of the formerly tallest structure, the Pearl Viewing Tower.
Could it be true? Elena pondered as she gazed out at the tower that now seemed so low in comparison, accompanied by the tiny figures of people strolling down the street. Could this luxurious penthouse really belong to Thomas Windrider?
Just then, a 'ding' from the elevator startled her back to reality. Before she could gather her thoughts, a tall figure emerged from the bedroom door, a man whose presence was both commanding and comforting in the brisk spring air. He paused mid-stride upon seeing the young woman at the window, bare feet pressed against the cool floor, and leaned casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. His tone was calm and matter-of-fact, “If you’re awake, you should get ready. Breakfast is waiting.”
Flustered, Elena opened her mouth, letting out a sheepish, “Uncle Thomas…” At his raised eyebrow, revealing a hint of impatience, she quickly tightened her grip on the blanket and whispered, “Uncle Thomas, I… I don’t have any clothes to change into.”
The elegant dress she had worn the previous evening was now tattered beyond repair, remnants of the chaos that had ensued. She had been tossed into a bathtub by Thomas, leaving her completely soaked.
For a moment, surprise flickered across Thomas's face. It seemed he hadn’t considered this aspect. He stepped into the room and casually picked up a shirt from a row of neatly hung garments in the closet. Turning, he handed it to her, but hesitated as Elena's little bare feet curled in vulnerability. Noticing her panic as he stepped closer, he couldn't help but let out a low chuckle, his voice low and rich, “Elena, have I really been absent from your life for so long that you've forgotten me?”
Pressed against the wall beside the closet, she felt a rush of heat flooding her cheeks as she awkwardly shifted, one hand clutching the blanket while the other took the shirt. With her face aflame, she managed to stutter, “I could never forget Uncle Thomas. I just…”
Thomas's gaze softened as he looked down at her, noting how she had calmed in his presence. It stirred something within him—an unexpected warmth. Biting back his feelings, he took a step back, returning to his typically cool demeanor. “Just go get ready.”
Elena practically bolted into the bathroom, squeezing through the narrow gap that he created for her as he stepped aside. Leaning against the cool tiles, she took a few deep breaths, trying to cool the flaming heat on her face, still reeling from their brief encounter.
To her, Thomas Windrider was a daunting figure, almost godlike. If it weren't for him seeking her out, she might have met a dire fate at the hands of her scheming relatives who had circled like vultures after her father's passing.

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