Read BROKEN RESOLVE (James & Annelly Book 2) :: Prologue

Annelly

He came out of nowhere.

One second, I was pinned beneath Victor—naked, bruised, seconds away from being violated in the worst way imaginable—and then the door exploded open like judgment itself.

And James was there.

A fury in motion, all muscle and rage, slamming into Victor with a sound that cracked through the room like thunder. In a blink, I was forgotten. Freed. Victor was ripped off me and thrown against the wall, James’s fists already flying.

He didn’t hesitate. Didn’t speak. Just attacked. Blow after blow, relentless and raw. I could hear the breath tearing out of Victor’s lungs. The wet crunch of bone meeting bone. The rasp of James’s fury barely held in check.

For a split second, I thought it was over.

That I was safe.

But then Victor twisted—snakelike, slippery—and his hand closed around James’s gun.

Everything stopped.

He tore it free from its holster with a savage yank, shoving James backward and raising the gun in the same breath.

No. No, no, no. This can’t be happening.

I don’t think. I just move. My body jolts forward on instinct, driven by sheer panic and the bone-deep terror of losing him.

Not James. Not now. Not like this.

“Victor—please.” My voice cracks, thin and desperate, as I step between them.

My bare feet scrape against the cold tile, my body trembling, raw, and bruised. But I don’t care. Not about the pain. Not about the shame. Not even that I’m naked. I don’t feel any of it. All I care about is stopping him from pulling that trigger.

“Annelly, don’t—get behind me!” James roars, lunging toward me.

But I’m faster. I dart out of reach, placing myself between them. Stepping closer to the man who wants nothing more than to destroy us both.

“You don’t have to do this, Victor.” I plead, my breath hitching. “I’ll stay with you. I’ll do whatever you want. Just please—let him go. I swear I’ll stay. I… I’ll love you.”

The lie scrapes my throat raw, tasting like blood and betrayal. But if it buys James even one more second, I’ll say anything.

“Please, Victor.” My voice drops to a whisper. “Just give me this one chance. I can fix this. I can fix what I broke between us.”

Victor laughs—loud, sharp, and unhinged. The sound slices through my ears like broken glass. “Don’t play me for a fool, my little dove,” he purrs, wiping blood from a jagged cut on his cheek. His face is a mess—split lip, swollen eye, fresh bruises blooming across his skin—but his smile is pure malice. “If you really loved me,” he says, voice dripping with mockery, “you’d let me shoot him.”

He throws his head back and cackles, the sound sending a bolt of terror straight down my spine.

He’s going to do it.

He’s really going to pull the trigger.

“No. Please…” I sob, the agony ripping through me like a knife. I would do anything—say anything—to save the man I love. “Let him go. Then I’ll dance for you. I’ll stay. I’ll do anything—just please don’t hurt him.”

I don’t know how I’m still standing. My legs tremble violently beneath me as I stare down the barrel of the gun and into the eyes of the deranged man who still claims to love me. I feel like I’m about to collapse—from the fear, the pressure, the sickening uncertainty of how this standoff will end.

“Oh, shut up,” he snaps, voice thick with annoyance. “You expect me to believe that? After everything you’ve denied me? After all your running—making me chase you—you seriously think I’d buy that bullshit?” He scoffs, disgust curling his lip.

“Yes.” The word scrapes out, raw and trembling. I take another step closer, my eyes pleading through the tears slipping down my cheeks. “Because you can read me. You always have. And I know you see it. How sorry I am. How much I regret everything I’ve done. I’m here now. Standing in front of you, of my own free will, telling you I’ll stay. I’ll be yours.” The words feel like shards of glass as they leave my mouth, shredding my throat on the way out. I can barely swallow past the bile rising behind them.

But then his eyes flick past me.

And suddenly the gun rises higher.

He narrows his gaze, aiming straight at my head. “Take another fucking step, and she dies.”

“Victor, no… look at me.” My voice breaks as I fight to hold his focus. Anything to keep his attention off James. “This is about you and me,” I say, taking another small step forward. “I loved you once. There’s no reason I can’t love you again.”

Another lie.

The only man I’ve ever loved is standing behind me.

But I tap into her—the girl from the stage. The heroine who could fake a smile through shattered bones and dance through hell on bleeding feet. The one who played the damsel so well, she could make the monsters believe she was weak… even while she was setting them up to fall.

I let her take over now. Let her wear the mask. Perform the role. Say the words.

“Deep down,” she whispers, voice small and frayed. “I think I always knew I was meant to be yours.”

But Victor is anything but stupid.

A fact he proves when he growls, “Then prove it. Come to me, and in front of lover boy back there, kiss me. Show us both just how badly you want me.”

His demand makes my stomach lurch. Makes me want to run away and disappear. But for James… I push through the shame. Through the fear. Through the rising static clawing at the edges of my mind.

“Get a move on, Dove.” His voice sharpens. “We both know I’m not a patient man.” His gaze drags down my body—slow, deliberate, violating. A shiver of fear slithers up my spine.

I suck in a shaky breath, suddenly hyper-aware of my nudity. Of the humiliation simmering beneath every inch of my bare skin.

I take a step. Just one.

And it feels like stepping off a cliff.

“Annelly, don’t—” James’s voice booms through the room, but it’s too late.

I force my legs to move. One step. Then another. My skin burns. My nerves scream at me to cover up, to run, to escape this nightmare. But I keep going. Exposed. Stripped bare—not just of clothes, but of dignity. Of power. Of self-respect.

Still, I keep moving. Because if this is the price of saving him, I’ll pay it. Gladly. Over and over again, until I know he’s safe.

When I reach Victor, I lift my chin and look up. Eyes wide. Lips trembling. My heart pounds so loudly, it drowns out everything else.

Then, rising onto my toes, I lean in.

He doesn’t move.

Doesn’t meet me halfway or try to make it easier.

He just waits—like he’s testing me.

And when I press my mouth to his, it’s not a kiss. It’s a surrender.

His mouth is wet and greedy. The sharp, metallic tang of blood hits my tongue—the split in his lip smearing against mine—and bile rises in my throat. I want to gag. To scream. To run.

But I stay frozen, lips to his, while my stomach churns and my heart pounds like a warning drum in my chest.

This isn’t real.

It can’t be real.

But it is.

Desperate to escape the horror, I squeeze my eyes shut.

Just breathe. Keep him distracted. Save the man you love.

Then suddenly—so fast it rips pain through me—his arm snaps around my waist.

No!

He spins me hard, slamming my back against his chest. One arm locks across my bare torso, his hold crushing and unyielding. The other still grips the gun, now aimed squarely at James.

I gasp—a sharp, broken sound—as my arms flail uselessly. Panic crashes into me.

What have I done?

I’ve handed him control. Given up every ounce of leverage I had.

I can’t protect him.

Oh God, I can’t protect him.

The thought guts me, my knees buckling under the weight of it. Victor tightens his grip, holding me up as he grabs my breast, squeezing hard and cruel. I whimper, and James growls—a sound of pure rage and helplessness.

“See?” Victor hisses against my ear, his breath hot and rancid. “Now this, my dove… this is love.”

I freeze as terror takes over my body.

My eyes snap to James. He’s standing there, shaking, his face flushed with fury. His hands curled into fists he can’t use.

Victor raises the gun, aiming it straight at his chest.

A scream builds in my throat, but I swallow it down. I can’t break. Not yet. There’s still a chance I can talk him down.

But then I see it. His finger is moving. Slow. Intentional. Settling on the trigger, and this time I know he’s not bluffing.

“No,” I whisper. “No, no, no—” But the words barely leave my lips.

“It’s alright, snowflake,” James says, calm and steady in that voice he only ever uses with me. “Just… just close your eyes.”

But I can’t. I won’t. There’s no way I’m letting him face any part of this alone.

Before I can say as much, Victor’s voice slices through the air like a blade.

“No, Dove. You keep those beautiful eyes on lover boy over there,” he snarls, “or I swear to God—I’ll shoot him, then force you to paint these walls with his fucking blood.”

Like the thought arouses him, he grinds against my backside. Obscene. Possessive. Deliberate, like he’s taunting James.

I shudder, nausea coiling hot in my gut as a whimper slips free. My tears fall fast now, silent. Relentless. And I hate it. Most of all, I hate him.

“Now, I like a threesome as much as the next guy…” he murmurs, low and vile. “But the trouble is—you kept her from me. So, fuck you.”

The gunshot cracks through the air.

Louder than thunder.

And I scream—his name, a prayer, a sound I didn’t know I could make.

When the ringing fades, all I see is him.

James.

His eyes lock on mine. Wide. Shining. Like he’s terrified to look away. Like I’m the last thing he ever wants to see. The only thing that matters in this moment.

Then—

Blood.

It blooms across his stomach. Dark. Spreading fast.

And he falls.

A scream rips from me before I even realize I’m making a sound.

“James!”

Oh God!

All I see is blood. So much blood.

The world tilts.

I twist, frantic, trying to break free. Trying to reach him. To throw myself between him and death again. But Victor holds fast. His arm a vise across my chest as I claw at him, wild and blind.

My body’s shaking too hard. Everything is unraveling.

“No, no, no,” I sob. “Please, no—James—”

My knees give out.

More screams tear free, raw and feral, echoing off the walls like something not human.

I don’t feel naked anymore.

Don’t feel the bruises marking my skin.

Don’t feel the cold.

Only the terror.

Only the guilt.

Because I did this.

I failed him.

I failed the man I love, and now he’s on the ground bleeding.