22 January 2020

Hey, guys! Chapter 2 of 'Loving Her Enemy' is here! Enjoy!

"Love and hate are two of the strongest emotions we feel in relationships." – Ava Max

Liyana's POV

Before I open my eyes, I feel a weight on my arms behind me. I try to move them, but I can't. I try to move my hands, but they seem to be locked in place. Fear runs down my spine, and goosebumps form on my skin. My eyes fly open, and I take in my surroundings. I look around, but I can't recognise where I am. This isn't my bedroom. I look down. This is definitely not my bed. Where am I?!

Panicking, I try to sit up but I can't. My arms have been tied behind me, to the headboard of the bed. I kick off the large, white duvet which is covering my torso, and I scream out in pain when I feel the rope digging into my wrists at the movement.

Where am I?

Why am I tied to a bed? I'm not at home. I don't recognise this bedroom. It's much larger than my bedroom at home, and from what I can see, it's better furnished, too. The lights are off, though. The only light in the room is coming in from the tiny gap between the black curtains on the far wall. It seems to be near to sunrise.

Oh, my god. Where am I? Dad's going to kill me. He's probably thinking that I've run away. Like hell I'd do that. I wouldn't run away, because then he'd kill Shehryaar Bhai and Mum, thinking that they helped me. If it wasn't for them, I'd have run away many years ago.

I start panicking, trying to free my arms. But I'm too weak. Whoever tied me to the bed, tied my wrists very tightly to the headboard. I squirm, pull, push, trying to escape. I'm sweating profusely, with fear and with determination. I need to get out of here. I need to go home, right now.

I don't even know where I am. The last thing I remember is.. that man. That handsome, mysterious stranger who I bumped into in the park. And then I saw black. I don't know what happened after that.

What happened to me? Where am I?

About half an hour later, I manage to loosen the rope slightly. I breathe a sigh of relief, working hard at trying to untangle the rope. My wrists are burning, aching with sharp pain. They're bleeding. I'm covered in sweat from head to toe.

I groan out in pain as I manage to free my right hand. I quickly work with the rope and free myself, jumping up from the bed. I look around the room, and then at myself in the full-length mirror opposite me. I'm dressed in the clothes I wore last night. My grey dress and tights. My coat is nowhere to be seen. My shoes are right beside me, and I slip my feet into them.

My hair, somehow, is still in loose waves and it falls down my back, looking thick and healthy. It's a little messy, but I don't care. My cheeks look flushed, my skin sweaty from trying so hard to free myself. I wipe away the sweat from my forehead, and I look around the large room.

My heart starts pounding in my chest as I run to the door. I try to open it, but it's locked. I start banging loudly on the door, calling out for help. 'Someone help me!' I scream at the top of my lungs, my throat hurting, constricting with pain.

There's no response.

'Help me!' I yell again, pushing my palms against the wall.

I bang on the door for what feels like hours, until finally, I hear footsteps.

I start trembling with fear when I hear the sound of a key, unlocking the door. Then, the door opens and in front of me stands a middle-aged, dark-haired man. It's not the man from last night. I've never seen this man before, his face is cold and emotionless.

"Thank you-" I say frantically, but my voice catches in my throat when the man grabs my arm and pulls me out of the room. My eyes widen in shock as he drags me down the long, dimly lit corridor, not letting go of me. What?!

"W-who are you?" I mutter, terrified.

There's no response.

He continues to pull me down the corridor, and then down a winding flight of stairs. Then, I'm dragged down a dark hallway, and then through a set of large, black doors. I lose focus of my surroundings, not caring where I am. Just knowing that I need to get home, right now. I'm going to be in so much trouble.

"What do you want with me?"

Again, there's no response.

Several minutes later, we enter what seems to be a huge living room, larger than my whole home. The man pushes me into an armchair, looking at me coldly. 'Wait here. Boss will be down to see you shortly.' With that, he leaves the room.

I cower on the armchair, sitting in a fetal position, hugging my knees to my chest. Where am I? Why am I here? And who's his boss?

I can't be here. I have to go home. My father must be furious right now. I know he'll punish me severely, but I need to get home. I can't risk him harming Mum and Shehryaar Bhai. He must be thinking that I've run away. He's going to blame them, and hurt them.

With this thought, I jump to my feet, looking around the large, wide room. It, too, is dimly lit, and is furnished impeccably, giving the room a rustic yet modern look. There's no time to focus on anything, though. I need to get away from here. I need to run away. Mum and Shehryaar Bhai must be so worried about me.

I look around once more, and breathe a sigh of relief when I see an open door at the back of the room. I run towards it, as silently as I can, and leave the room. I enter another hallway, which has a vast, black door at the end. I run to the door and push it open, finding myself in another long, dark corridor. This place creeps me out, while it shocks me at the same time. It's beautiful, colossal. It looks like a castle, or the biggest mansion in the world.

I run down the corridor, and then through several more. My legs are hurting, I'm out of breath. But I don't care. All I know is that I need to get out of here.

I manage to reach a large, metal gate that has railings. I try to push it open, looking outside. It's the exit. But the gate doesn't budge. It's locked. I control myself from bursting into tears, hitting the gate with my hands, hurting myself but not caring. My hands are already hurting because of the cuts on my wrist from the rope.

I push the gate, my palms hurting like hell. I'm stuck. It's locked. There's no way out. It won't budge, no matter how hard I push.

I hold onto the railings of the gate with my hands tightly, my body rocking with sobs I'm trying to control. 'No, no, no!' I scream, shaking my head.

I need to find another way out. There's no point in crying. I need to escape.

I turn to go back and find another escape, but I bang into a large, hard form. Two hands are placed on my waist to steady me, and I suck in a sharp inhale of breath. It's him. I know it is.

My gaze shoots upwards, and for a moment, I'm lost. I can see him better than I did last night, and he's the most handsome man I've ever seen.

Standing at over six feet tall, he towers over me, his body dangerously close to mine. I can see him clearer than I could last night, with the sun starting to rise outside. I'm lost for words, my mind completely blank for a few moments.

He's the hottest man I've ever seen, in my entire life.

He towers over me, his dark brown, almost black eyes piercing into mine. His eyes are hard and commanding, much like his presence. They're cold and emotionless, his gaze penetrating through me. He has the longest lashes, any girl would be jealous of them. His eyes are his first feature that I notice. I've never seen eyes like this before. Eyes that are this hard, cold, mysterious.

He has a symmetrical nose, even his nose is flawless. His jaw is cut, slight stubble over his jaw and chin.

His hair is tousled, sexy. I can now tell that his hair is the darkest shade of brown, like his eyes. It looks extremely soft to the touch.

He's fair-skinned, probably the same skin tone as me.

And his lips.. his lips are pink, full and they look extremely soft.

Again, he's dressed all in black. He's wearing a black full-sleeved button-up which clings to all his muscles. He's clearly very well-built, I can see the trace of his abs through the thin material of his shirt. He's paired the shirt with dark jeans, and he's wearing black dress shoes. He's the epitome of sexiness, of masculinity.

Liyana! What are you thinking?! He's kidnapped you, and you're shamelessly checking him out?!

I jump out of my trance, and out of his grasp. My back is pressed against the railings, both my hands clutching the railings. I glare at him.

'W-what do you want with me? Who are you?!' I shout, my voice shaking.

He cocks his head to the side, staring intensely at me. He parts his lips to speak, but decides to close them again. I really need to stop staring at his lips.

'Who the hell are you, and why am I here?' I ask again, my voice raised. I try to keep it calmer this time, though.

I look around, but there's no escape.

He takes a step closer to me, towering over my petite form. I start trembling, certain memories resurfacing. Memories I'd tried so hard to forget for the past two years. Memories I know are impossible to forget.

"Shh, shh. You're too loud," he whispers huskily, his voice low and cool. It sends a shiver down my spine. He places a finger on his lips and stares at me with the same intensity as before.

'Let me go. Open this damn gate right now!' I scream, even louder.

He frowns, shaking his head slightly. "Shh, shh."

'Do you seriously think I'll listen to you? Do you think I'll keep quiet? No! Open this gate right now, whoever the hell you are! What do you think of yourself?!' I rant, my eyes filling with tears. My body is still shaking. I hug myself, rubbing my arms gently. It's cold.

He stares at me for a few seconds, his eyes unreadable. He doesn't speak.

'Let me out of here, now! If my father finds out.. if he finds out you've.. he won't leave you!' I shout, terrified.

His jaw tenses angrily, and he grabs my elbow, pulling me away from the gate. He pulls me down the corridor, his grasp hard on my arm.

'Get your hands off me!' I scream, frightened as hell. What's going on right now? Where am I?!

And who is this man?

'Let go of me this instance!' I yell, trying to yank my arm away from his grasp. But he's too strong.

He pulls me through a set of corridors, dragging me behind him. We reach the same living room I was in earlier, and he pushes me into the leather armchair. He hovers over me, his eyes dark and fathomless.

The memories of my past resurface, and I start trembling. I sit in a fetal position on the armchair, pulling my knees up to my chest and hugging myself. The fire is crackling in the fireplace opposite me, but I feel cold. I feel terrified.

'Please, let me g-go,' I mutter, suddenly becoming weak. I don't want the same things to happen again. If I went through the same things that I went through in the last few years, I'll die. I'd rather die. Without a single thought, I'd choose death over.. that.

"No."

I frown, shivering. 'Please, please let m-me go,' I whisper, staring at him through under my lashes.

"I don't think so, Liyana," he says, raising an eyebrow. His tone is cool.

What? How does he know my name? How does he know who I am?

'H-how do you know my name? Who are you?' I ask, my heart racing in my chest, threatening to escape.

He chuckles humourlessly, and it sends a shiver down my spine. "I know everything about you, Liyana."

I frown, continuing to stare at him. 'W-what? What do you know? Who are you?' I ask him again.

He places his index finger on his chin, pretending to look thoughtful. "Liyana Ahmed, twenty-one years old. You live with your older brother, mother and father. You're studying a psychology and business joint honours degree, and your best friend is Maheen. Last night, you got engaged." He scoffs as he says the last part. He paces in front of me, confidently.

My eyes widen in shock, and I shake my head furiously. 'H-how the hell do you know all this?'

He shrugs casually. "I know a lot more than this. Ayaan Abdullah, your fiancé. I know all about him, all about your whole family. We're a lot closer than you think."

'How do you know my family? Who are you?! How do you know Ayaan?' I ask again, although I know he won't answer any of my questions.

"Really, Liyana? Ayaan Abdullah, out of all people?" He smirks. He finds this situation amusing.

'That's none of your business. I'm none of your business,' I say, glaring at him.

In a flash, he's right in front of me again. He grabs both sides of the armchair, and his body is dangerously close to mine.

"That's where you're wrong, angel. You're only my business now."

I gather the courage to shake my head, laughing humourlessly. 'Let me out of here. Why am I here? My father's going to be mad, my family are going to be worried. I'm getting married soon!'

He smirks again. "I think not. Are you forgetting anything, Miss Ahmed?"

I frown, fighting the urge to push him away. I have a feeling, though, that the consequences wouldn't be good if I did. 'What are you talking about?'

My gaze falls to my knees, or to my hands on my knees. My eyes almost pop out of their sockets in shock when I see that my engagement ring is nowhere to be seen. What the hell?!

He puts his hand into his right jeans pocket, and he takes out my ring. He took it off me?

'Give that back. Give that back now!' I say, angrily. I can't imagine what my father would do if I lost this ring. I can't imagine what Ayaan would do. I don't want to anger either of them. I don't want to imagine how much this ring costs, I can't lose it.

I try to grab the ring out of his hand, but he's too quick for me. His face hardens, and he steps back.

But I'm not having it.

I jump up from my seat in the chair, and I rush towards him, trying to grab my ring. I can't lose it. I don't think I can bear the consequences.

'Give it back!' I yell, pushing him with both my hands. But he doesn't budge a single bit.

He smirks, walking over to the fireplace.

He's not.

No!

'Give that back to me!' I scream, running towards him, grabbing his arm. I try to hit him on the chest, but he's not having it.

His eyes are cold and emotionless as I'm pushed up against the living room wall, his fingers digging into my shoulders, his body pressed up against mine. I can feel his minty breath on the top of my head.

"Never touch me again," he whispers, his voice cool and impassive.

I jerk my head up to meet his gaze, and for a second, I'm lost. I lose myself in his dark brown, almost black depths that are boring into mine.

'Give me my ring,' I yell angrily, not wanting him to see how weak I am. Not wanting to become weak in front of him.

He continues to stare at me, swallowing hard. He doesn't speak.

'Give me my ring, now! It's my engagement ring!' I shout. I'm angry, I'm confused, I'm upset. Why am I here? What does this man want with me? I have no idea who he is! Before last night, I hadn't ever seen him before.

"Not anymore," he says, his voice cool and composed. He raises an eyebrow, an evil look crossing his beautiful face. In one swift movement, he throws my ring into the blazing fire.

My heart drops in my chest, and my eyes almost pop out of their sockets. I'm furious now.

I try to push him away with all my might, hitting him on his chest with both my hands. 'What the fuck? What do you want with me?' I scream, tears rising to my eyes.

His grasp on my shoulders loosens, and I'm about to breathe a sigh of relief, but he grabs both my hands with his large one, and pins them above my head.

"Don't touch me again," he whispers, his eyes emotionless.

I yell some curses at him, trying to free my hands. But he's too strong for me. 'Let go of me, you monster!'

He smirks at this.

'You're having fun, are you? Why the fuck am I here? Who are you? What do you want with me?!'

He doesn't speak.

I get even more riled up. I kick his leg, and he shakes his head amusedly. He's a psycho. He enjoys seeing me like this, so weak.

"Go to your room," he orders, but he doesn't let go of my hands.

'My room is at home! So right now, you will show me the exit,' I mutter, glaring dirtily at him.

He stands even closer to me, his hard body pressed up against mine. I can feel his minty breath on my forehead as I'm looking up at him. He's so tall, so big. I'm tiny compared to him.

This man doesn't know anything about personal space, that's for sure.

I try to push him away, memories resurfacing into my mind. The memories I've been trying so hard to forget.

"Go to your room," he mutters, staring into my eyes.

'Who the fuck are you? Who are you? Why have you kidnapped me?!' I ask, blinking away the tears in my eyes.

There's no response.

I step on his foot, hard, but it doesn't hurt him. He doesn't budge a tiny bit.

'You enjoy doing this to girls? Is this your job? Kidnapping girls, keeping them hostage? I'm going to report you to the police!' I cry.

His lips turn to form his signature smirk. "The police? Try it. They can't do anything to me."

What does he mean the police can't do anything to him? Who is he? Why do I have a feeling that he's telling the truth, that the police can't do anything?

I feel terrified, I need to get away from here. And I need to get away fast.

'Will you tell me who you are? What is it that you want with me? Do you want money? Take me home, and I'll give you money. I'll ask my father-'

My words are cut short when suddenly, he lets go of my hands, and his right hand goes to my neck. He places his hand around my neck, his eyes stormy. Tears spill out of my eyes, I can't control them any longer.

Is he going to kill me? Is that why he's brought me here? To kill me?

He doesn't apply any pressure, but I'm still pressed against the wall.

'Do you want to know what I want with you?' He asks, looking amused for a split second.

I don't dare speak, knowing that if he wants to, he can kill me in one short second.

'I'm going to ruin you, angel. Slowly and completely,' he whispers, staring into his eyes with hatred like I've never seen before.

*******

A middle-aged man with tanned skin and dark hair enters my room with a tray in his hands. I shake my head, looking the other way.

'Eat,' he orders, shoving the tray in front of me on my seat on the bed.

It's the next day. Over twenty-four hours have passed since my meeting with my kidnapper. Over thirty-six hours have passed since I've eaten.

My meals were brought to my room yesterday, and I didn't touch them. I didn't look at them. And I'm doing the same right now.

"Tell your boss to eat it himself," I say, scoffing.

The man glares at me, taking out his phone from his pocket. He rings a number and mutters something under his breath.

'Eat,' he orders again, angrily.

I throw the tray onto the floor, and the water drenches the man's trousers. I smirk.

He curses loudly, and says something else to whoever the hell he's calling. Then, he turns off the call and gives me a dirty glare, before striding out the room. He doesn't forget to lock the door behind him.

Since my meeting with the man who kidnapped me yesterday, I've been trying to find a way out. But I've been locked inside this room, all day and all night. My meals have been brought to me by different men each time, and I've not eaten a single bite.

My stomach is rumbling with hunger, and I have the worst headache, but I won't eat. I need to focus on getting out of here, wherever 'here' is. I have a feeling I'm far from home.

I've tried everything possible to leave this room, and I mean everything. I've tried to break the door down, I've tried to break the windows. But I don't know what kind of glass they're made out of. I've tried to climb on top of the sink in the bathroom, to break that tiny little window in the bathroom, but it, too, is made out of the strongest material that won't budge. There's no way out of this room. But I'm not giving up.

I don't have access to my mobile phone, and there's nothing here. No telephone, no computer, no laptop. There's no access to the outside world, at all. I'm a prisoner.

I walk over to all the walls, feeling. Just in case there's a secret door somewhere. But the walls are all brick hard, none hollow, and there's definitely no secret doors anywhere.

I'm still dressed in the outfit I wore the night before yesterday. The closet in this room is fully stocked with female clothes, but I haven't touched them. I don't want to.

I fall asleep a short while later, in a fetal position on the bed, tired, hungry, and with a massive headache.

********

When I open my eyes, I groan, holding my palm to my head, pressing. It hurts. I groan, turning over and sitting up slowly.

That's when I see him. He's sitting on the black leather armchair a few feet away from the bed, staring at me. His large form is casually leaning back in the chair, and he's staring at me amusedly, his right index finger tracing the light stubble on his chin.

I sit up straight, my eyes widening in shock. I pull the duvet close to my body, afraid. Terrified.

Even through the dim lighting, he looks perfect.

'W-what do you want?' I mutter, glaring at him, trying to appear stronger than I actually am.

He looks down at the floor, the food and water spilled on the dark marble. He raises an eyebrow.

"You're not getting the easy way out. You can't starve yourself to death," he says, his voice just above a low whisper.

'Have you still not had enough? You still won't let me go?' I say, shaking my head.

"Of course not. What would be the fun in that, angel?" He murmurs, his eyes travelling down my petite, curvy body. I tighten the duvet around myself, glaring at him. He's shameless, staring at me like that.

His eyes are heated, his lips pulled up into a smirk. A shiver runs down my spine, I'm not sure if it's a good or bad shiver.

There's a light knock on the door, which surprises me.

'Enter,' he orders, his voice authoritative like always.

A man who I've never seen before enters the room, holding another plate of food. He places it in front of me on the bed, and leaves.

"Eat. Now, in front of me," he orders, not taking his eyes off me.

'No.'

"Don't test my patience, Liyana. Eat, now," he says, raising his voice only slightly.

It makes me jump.

'You eat it,' I say, glaring at him.

In an instant, he's in front of me, his stare penetrating into me.

He lifts his hand to brush away a strand of hair from in front of my face, his fingertips touching my cheek for a brief second. My breath hitches in my throat, my eyes boring into his dark depths.

"You're making things incredibly difficult for yourself. If you don't eat, you never leave," he says, shrugging. He rolls his eyes, shrugging and sits back into the armchair. He folds his arms over his chest, his heated eyes not leaving me.

'You won't let me go even if I do eat. So no.' I step out of bed, ignoring the tray of food in front of me.

I walk over to the closet casually. 'I don't care who's clothes these are, but I'm wearing them.'

He's in front of me in a split second, grabbing my arm and again pressing me up against a wall. What's with him and walls?

"Yours. First eat, then shower."

'I don't like taking orders, sorry,' I say, shrugging.

Am I crazy? Did I seriously just say that to him? I'm terrified of this man, and I'm answering him back. I hate him. I hate him, for keeping me locked up here without reason. Why does he want to ruin me? What did I ever do to him?!

"And I don't like hearing 'no'. You'll eat willingly, or you're never getting out of here."

I give him the dirtiest look I can muster. 'Let me go.'

"Eat."

'Will you at least tell me what I ever did to you, that you've imprisoned me here? You're acting like I killed your best friend!' I ask loudly, holding a hand to my head. I'm starting to feel dizzy. It's because I haven't eaten or drank water in so long.

He turns furious, and drags me back to the bed, sitting me down. "I have access to every member of your family right now, and I can do anything in seconds. If you care about their safety, you will eat."

'Let me out of here! Do you like being a monster? Why are you doing this to me? What have I done to you?' I ask him, staring into his heated depths.

He glowers at me, not finding it important to answer. "Eat that food right now, or you will regret it." His voice is a low whisper, but it terrifies me.

I glance down at the tray in front of me. White rice, vegetables of some sort and custard. There's some water on the side, too. My stomach rumbles loudly, and my cheeks turn bright pink.

'Will you let me go then?' I ask him quietly.

"No."

I've never felt this frustrated in my entire life. Why is he keeping me hostage? Why isn't he letting me go?

'You think by keeping me here, locked up in a room day in and day out, I'll suddenly start listening to you? What are you punishing me for?' I ask him, my voice small.

He stares at me for a few seconds. Then, he takes out his phone from his pocket and he clicks on the screen a few times. The next thing I hear is my father's voice.

'Liyana. Liyana! Where do you think you are?!' I jump at the tone of his voice, and I try to grab the phone off him.

"Dad!" I call, tears rising to my eyes.

'I have your daughter, as you already guessed. Well done for that. Within seconds, I can destroy your whole family,' the mysterious, handsome man's voice roars. I see hatred in his eyes. For me, for my father, for my family. Why does he hate us so much? What have we ever done to him?

'You will not touch her, you-' He cuts the call, turning to smirk at me.

'Now, then. Will you eat, or not?' I start eating right away. I wouldn't be able to live if he harmed my family in any way, because I wasn't listening to him.

In order to get out of here, I need another technique. One that involves being 'nicer' to him.

********

Hey guys, I hope you're all well! What did you think of the second chapter?

What do you think of Liyana so far?

And Zain?

I have so much planned for this book, I really hope you like it!

Question: What's your favourite book of mine?

Bye guys!