Chapter 3

Damien’s hand tightened around mine, his eyes gleaming with a possessive affection, as if I were a precious pet cradled in his arms.

“Kill him.”

His voice was still soft, almost tender, utterly detached from the chilling command he’d just uttered. He shifted his gaze to the man tied to the target post opposite us, his eyes filled with sheer disgust.

The man’s eyes, wide with rage and despair, were fixed on us. His mouth was tightly taped shut, allowing only muffled whimpers to escape.

“Why?” I asked, my voice flat, my eyes lowered.

“Hmm, let me think,” Damien mused, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “His reason for dying. Is it because he betrayed me, or tried to kill you, or... is it simply because... he wanted to take you away?”

My hand, gripping the gun, tightened. Did he know? No... that was impossible. This plan was a last-minute decision, even I’d only found out recently. It was just bad luck that Damien had stumbled upon us. How could he possibly know...? Looking at the man before me, tortured beyond recognition, I couldn’t stop trembling. It felt like I was back years ago, witnessing Damien pour scalding hot oil over someone's face. This man was always ruthless. If he knew that I hadn’t been forcibly taken during the raid, but had actively gone along, looking for an opportunity to escape... my legs would surely be broken.

“Let him go,” I said, my voice unnervingly calm. But the hand holding the gun wouldn’t stop trembling, a tremor so slight it was almost imperceptible, yet Damien’s sharp eyes caught it. Even though killing the man would be the safest option for me now, I couldn’t bring myself to murder someone who had done me no wrong.

“Alright,” Damien purred. He released my hand, then curled an arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “And my dear... what will you give me in return?” His voice dripped with his usual possessive affection, but a coldness deep within his eyes, like a viper fixated on its prey, went unseen by me, nestled in his embrace.

“I won’t leave this place,” I stated. I turned my head, looking directly into his eyes. They were alight with a fierce blend of love, lust, and possessiveness, so intense it seemed to spill out. I knew he must be furious. Ever since I’d tried to break free from him, only to be knocked out and dragged back, I hadn’t stepped outside this mansion. No matter what I tried, nothing worked. I’d even attempted to provoke him, deliberately ignoring him and chatting happily with one of the maids. The result? Damien’s face darkened, and right in front of me, he poured scalding hot oil over the poor woman’s face. He then...

He used a leather belt to bind my wrists, then threw me onto the bed. “If you won’t talk to me off the bed,” he snarled, “then we’ll talk *on* it.” He didn’t stop until I passed out. I was bedridden for three days after that. Now, the sight of a belt sends shivers down my spine.