Devil's Prisoner of Love by Prefer

The morning sunlight filtered through the forest, a gentle spring breeze brushing past. Birds chirped on the branches above, and small unknown wildflowers dotted the ground beneath the trees.

Under different circumstances, Ivy might have paused to admire the beauty of her surroundings, but now she was too battered and worn-out to care. All she wanted was to find shelter, rest, and tend to her wounds.

Exhaustion weighed heavily on her body. Her stomach growled, and her entire being ached for a warm place to sleep. But she knew she couldn't afford to rest-not yet. Falling asleep in her current state might mean never waking up again.

Dragging her weary body through the forest, Ivy pressed on. Luck seemed to favor her as she stumbled upon a clear stream. She bent over it and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the water. The sight startled even her-a face battered and bruised, barely recognizable.

Hurriedly, she washed the blood off her face with the cold, refreshing water. The wound on her forehead had already scabbed over, and though it still hurt, the splash of water brought a fleeting sense of relief. Cupping her hands, she drank deeply from the stream.

Under normal circumstances, she might have hesitated, worrying about whether the water was clean or if it might make her sick. But now, survival trumped all other concerns. She simply wanted to live-to live well.

Rejuvenated slightly, Ivy continued walking. She had no idea which mountain range she had been brought to by those despicable men. Last night, she had jumped out of their vehicle, knowing it was heading deeper into the wilderness. If she hadn't escaped, she might never have found her way out.

Hours passed before Ivy saw smoke rising in the distance. Relief flickered in her heart, but she quickly swallowed it-she couldn't afford to let her guard down.

This place might not be any safer than where she'd just escaped. The memory of betrayal was fresh in her mind, and she had vowed never to trust strangers so easily again.

She studied the house ahead. It was nothing extravagant, just an ordinary brick-and- tile hwith a rural charm and regional characteristics.

"Who are you? Why are you sneaking around my backyard?" The sudden voice startled her. Ivy spun around, her heart racing like a frightened bird. Standing before her was an elderly woman. Despite the woman's frail appearance, Ivy remained cautious.

"I'm just passing through, ma'am. I'll leave right away," Ivy replied, her voice trembling. "Young lady, what happened to your forehead?" "I... I fell down the mountain," Ivy said hesitantly. "Ma'am, could you tellwhere I am?" She carefully observed the old woman, feeling a faint sense of reassurance. Something about her seemed kind.

There was truth to the saying that a person's character shows in their face. Ivy thought back to Hale, whose shifty eyes and deceitful demeanor had led her astray. If not for Walsh breaking up with her on the sday, leaving her in a daze, she would never have gotten into Hale's car.

The elderly woman, on the other hand, wore faded but meticulously clean clothes. Her eyes held a gentle warmth, and her demeanor seemed genuine.

"You fell from the mountain? You're lucky to be alive. Where is your family?" "Ma'am, to be honest, I got into an illegal ride-share. The driver planned to selloff as a bride in sremote area. I barely managed to escape, but I fell during the process," Ivy admitted, her voice steady but weary.

"Those wicked scoundrels!" The old woman cursed in her local dialect, her outrage unmistakable. Ivy struggled to understand her words but appreciated the sentiment.

"Ma'am, do you have anything to eat? I'm starving," Ivy asked hesitantly. The woman's indignation seemed sincere, and Ivy felt a glimmer of hope.

If you're loving the book, nel5sis where the adventure continues. Join us for the complete experience-all for free. The next chapter is eagerly waiting for you! "Poor child, cinside," the old woman said, her compassion evident. She led Ivy into the yard, which was simple but cozy. A few fruit trees stood scattered around, and chickens roamed freely, pecking at the ground.

A large yellow dog lay lazily by the door, basking in the sun, while a white cat stretched luxuriously in a bamboo basket nearby, its belly exposed as it napped.

The peaceful scene nearly brought Ivy to tears. Her life had been smooth sailing for so long, but in recent times, chaos had taken over. The contrast was overwhelming.

She thought back to the previous night. If not for her quick thinking, she might already have been sold off. Now, standing here amidst this tranquil scene, she felt an immense gratitude for being alive.

Living was a gift, she realized. Money, status-none of it mattered anymore.

"Ma'am, do you live here alone?" Ivy asked, glancing at the humble home. It was clear the old woman lived a modest life.

"My husband passed away two years ago. My children moved to the city for work and have settled down there. They rarely cback," the woman replied.

"If they don't visit, why don't you go live with them? It must be tough living here alone," Ivy said, still cautious but genuinely curious.

"I tried living in the city," the woman began, her voice tinged with melancholy. "But I couldn't adapt. People there speak differently, and every outing requires an elevator or a car. I was always scared of getting lost. My children were too busy to spend twith me, so after a month, I returned home.

Here, I can go wherever I want. This is my home-where I belong. At my age, I'll soon return to the earth. I want to spend my final days here, where my roots are." If you're loving the book, nel5sis where the adventure continues. Join us for the complete experience all for free. The next chapter is eagerly waiting for you! Her words reminded Ivy of Genevieve. She had never known her grandparents, but Genevieve often spoke fondly of her late grandmother's cooking. Perhaps what Genevieve longed for most wasn't just food or memories, but her roots.

"Ma'am, as long as you're happy, that's what matters," Ivy said softly.

"Well said, young lady. You look like you've had a rough time. Letboil swater so you can clean up. That wound on your forehead needs proper care," the woman offered kindly.

Ivy nodded, grateful for the kindness.

But more than anything, she wanted to make a phone cax, Through the cold, dark night, one thought had kept her going-the thought of someone waiting for her.

"Ma'am, do you have a telephone? I need to call a friend to cpickupyy asked. "A telephone? I have one, but I don't use it much. I'll go find it for you," the woman said.

She returned with an old, dust-covered phone. "I only use it to call my grandson when I miss him.

My children are too busy to answer my calls." Ivy felt a pang of emotion. She could imagine how worried Genevieve must be right now.

Her phone had long since died, but as soon as the charger powered it back up, the familiar glow of the screen made the world feel bright again.

At the brink of despair, she had found hope.

Carefully, Ivy pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and dialed the number she knew by heart.

mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1 mmMwWLliIofiflo&1 mmMwWLlilofiflo&1