Emily's pov:

The Sentence Delivered

The black rose felt heavier in my hands than it should have. Its scent clung to the air, sweet but suffocating. I tightened my grip around the stem, ignoring the sting as a thorn pricked my skin, a sharp reminder of the pain that had become a part of my existence.

My gaze lifted to Salley. She knew. The way she spoke, the certainty in her voice-it wasn't normal. It wasn't something she should have known.

I took a step forward, my voice sharper than I intended. "How do you know all this, Salley?"

She didn't flinch, but something flickered in her eyes. Guilt? Hesitation? I wasn't sure.

"Because I was meant to," she said simply.

I frowned. "Meant to?"

Salley exhaled, running a hand through her hair, the weight of her words pressing down on her. "I wasn't just some random friend your mother introduced you to, Emily." Her voice softened, cautious. "She placed me in your life for a reason."

The words sent a chill down my spine.

I shook my head. "That doesn't make sense. My mother-she didn't just choose friends for me. She wasn't like that."

Salley's expression darkened, her lips pressing into a thin line. "She was exactly like that. You just didn't know it."

A lump formed in my throat. "Why?"

"Because she knew one day, you'd need someone who understood the world you were born into."

The world I was born into.

I swallowed hard. "You mean the world Alexander belongs to."

Salley nodded. "And the world you belong to now, whether you want to or not."

My hands trembled. I wanted to argue, to call her a liar, to tell her that I didn't belong to anything, but the words wouldn't come.

Because deep down, I already knew she was right.

My mother had secrets. So many of them. Ones I had never questioned. But now, standing here, holding this cursed rose, I couldn't ignore it anymore.

I looked down at the flower in my hands, its petals velvety and dark, hiding the sharp thorns beneath. Just like Alexander. Just like all of this.

Salley glanced at me but said nothing. Instead, she turned and walked away, leaving me alone with the silence and the weight of everything she had just said.

I didn't stop her.

I couldn't. ••••••••••••••

The apartment had never felt this empty before.

At first, I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me. That I was overthinking. That I was fine.

But I wasn't.

I hated it. The quiet. The stillness. The way every little sound felt too loud in the silence.

I told myself it was freedom. That I should be happy. I wasn't chained to a bed anymore. I wasn't locked away in Alexander's world.

And yet, I missed him.

The thought made me sick. I shouldn't miss him. I should hate him, despise him for everything he had done to me. And I did. But even with the hatred, there was something else. Something dark and twisted, something I didn't want to name.

I found myself hesitating when I made coffee, as if expecting to pour a second cup. I caught myself listening for a voice that wasn't there, feeling for a presence that should have never been comforting.

I woke up in the middle of the night, gasping, my body aching for something I refused to acknowledge.

I hated him.

I needed him.

I hated that I needed him.

Then, on the night before my birthday, everything changed.

A knock at the door.

Sharp. Measured.

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. My fingers curled into fists as I forced myself to move.

When I opened the door, two men stood there, dressed in black, their faces blank.

They didn't speak. They didn't need to.

One of them extended his hands, holding a small, dark box. A wax seal pressed against the opening-a crest I didn't recognize, but one that felt wrongly familiar.

My name was written on it.

In red ink.

I swallowed hard, my fingers trembling as I took it. The box was smooth and cold, and as soon as it was in my grasp, the men turned and walked away.

I stood there, staring at it, the weight of it heavy in my hands.

I already knew.

This wasn't just a letter.

It was a sentence.

With a shaky breath, I slid my fingers under the seal and tore it open.

Inside were two letters.

One was crisp and official, printed on thick parchment with an unfamiliar insignia stamped at the top. The second was older, the paper yellowed with time, the ink slightly faded but still legible.

My pulse pounded as I unfolded the first.

The Official Statement - The Primarchs' Decree

To Emily Summers,

You belong to Alexander Nikolai.

This is not a request. This is not a contract to be negotiated. This is a decree, written in the blood of those who came before you.

For centuries, your family and his have been bound by a pact that predates your existence. A pact that cannot be undone, cannot be questioned. It is law, set forth by the founders of our world-by the Primarchs.

You are the last of your bloodline. The final piece in a bond that must be upheld.

There will be no escape.

There never was.

Signed, The Primarchs

My hands trembled as I finished reading. My throat felt tight, my breath shallow.

No escape.

I wanted to scream. To tear the letter apart, to burn it, to pretend I had never read it.

But I couldn't. Because there was still one more.

The older letter.

With dread pooling in my stomach, I carefully unfolded it.

The ink was dark, each letter written with deliberate strokes. And as my eyes scanned the words, I felt the ground beneath me vanish.

The Blood Pact - A Letter from Centuries Ago

To those who bear our names,

Know this-what was forged in blood must remain in blood.

We, the founders, the Primarchs, have ensured that our legacies will never fade, that our power will never wane. And for that, a price was paid.

Two families. Bound by oath. By blood. By sacrifice.

Every generation, one shall take the other. No matter the cost. No matter the will. It is the only way to ensure that what we built does not fall into ruin.

The pact is unbreakable.

To defy it is to invite destruction.

To resist is to bring death.

And so it shall be-until the end of time.

Signed in Blood, The Primarchs

The letter slipped from my fingers.

I stumbled back, my heart hammering against my ribs, bile rising in my throat.

This wasn't just about me.

This had never been about me.

It had been decided centuries ago. Written in blood long before I was even born.

I was never free.

I never had a choice.

And I never would.

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to calm the erratic beats of my heart.

But there was no calming this.

No running.

No escape.

Only the inevitable.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Hey, lovely readers! ♡♡

If you made it this far and didn't vote, just know that my soul will haunt you forever. No peace. No escape. Just me, whispering "vote for the chapter" at 3 AM.

Still not convinced? Well, I heard that people who don't vote mysteriously misplace their snacks... and no one wants that kind of bad luck.

So be a good reader-vote, comment, and make my dark little heart happy! ♡♡

Also, don't copy, translate, or repost my work. I put my blood, sweat, and maybe a few tears into this story. Respect the effort, and we won't have any problems.

Now, go forth and spread chaos in the comment section! Can't wait to hear your thoughts.

Much love, ♡♡♡