The garden had turned cold. The last traces of daylight had faded, leaving behind a thick, oppressive darkness. The world around me was silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the evening breeze.

I was still crouched beside Elsa, stroking her soft fur absentmindedly, lost in my thoughts.

Then—the light disappeared.

A dark shadow loomed over me, swallowing up the faint glow of the moon. The hairs on my arms rose, and my body tensed before I even turned around.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze.

Adrik.

His tall frame stood motionless, his sharp eyes boring into mine, unreadable. I felt him before I even saw him. His presence was suffocating, his power stretching out like an unseen force, wrapping around my throat, making my breath hitch.

"So," he murmured, crouching down beside me, his voice smooth as velvet yet carrying an edge that sent a shiver down my spine. "This is what's been keeping you outside lately."

His eyes flickered to Elsa.

For a moment, the coldness in his expression softened, if only slightly.

I swallowed hard, my pulse erratic. "Can I keep her?" My voice was small, barely above a whisper.

He tilted his head, as if considering. Then, to my surprise, he smirked. "Yes."

Relief flooded through me. My lips parted, the beginning of a grateful smile forming—

Until his fingers suddenly touched my chin.

The moment he tilted my face up, his expression changed.

Darkened.

The air turned heavy.

"What happened to your face?"

The question wasn't gentle. It wasn't concerned.

It was a demand.

I stiffened. The sharp sting of the maid's slap still lingered on my skin, a phantom burn beneath his touch. But I couldn't tell him.

I forced a small, weak laugh. "It's nothing. I mistakenly fell."

His eyes didn't move from mine. Didn't blink.

Lies were a dangerous game. And Adrik? He was a man who played to win.

A long, unbearable silence stretched between us. My chest grew tight.

Then, so quietly it almost felt unreal, he spoke.

"Mikhail."

The name cut through the night like the blade of a knife.

Footsteps. A presence. Then, suddenly, Mikhail was there, standing tall, awaiting orders.

Adrik's gaze never left mine.

"Get the bunny a vaccine shot," he said, voice calm, eerily gentle. "And treat her."

Mikhail nodded, stepping forward and carefully taking Elsa from my arms.

I wanted to protest. To reach for her. But I couldn't move.

Because Adrik wasn't done with me.

His grip on my chin tightened, his thumb brushing over my bruised cheek with an almost tender touch.

"Now, my love," he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. "I'll ask again."

A pause. A heavy silence.

"Who hit you?"

My body locked up. My heart pounded so hard it hurt.

I couldn't tell him.

I shouldn't tell him.

I forced a shaky breath. "I'm not lying—no one—"

CRACK.

The sound of flesh meeting flesh rang through the cold night air.

The force of his slap sent my head snapping to the side, my vision blurring for a split second. A sharp sting exploded across my cheek, burning hotter than fire.

I gasped, my breath stolen, the pain sending a shudder down my spine.

Then—his hand was on me again.

Fingers gripping my jaw, forcing my face back toward his.

My breath hitched.

His eyes—God, his eyes.

Dark. Unforgiving. Deadly.

"You see, my love," he murmured, his voice coated in something sinister. "In my line of work, we build legacy. But legacies crumble without trust."

His lips brushed over my cheek, as if in mock comfort, his touch both cruel and gentle.

"And do you know what I hate more than anything?"

The answer hung in the air, thick with danger.

"Lies."

A slow, eerie smile crept onto his lips as his fingers trailed from my jaw down to my throat, feeling the erratic beat of my pulse beneath his touch.

I could feel the threat. The unspoken promise of what he would do next.

Then, softly,too softly,he whispered, "So before I cut off your tongue, which I am very tempted to do, I'll ask for the third time..."

His grip tightened.

"Who. Hit. You?"

Fear. Pure, paralyzing fear.

I couldn't breathe. My entire body trembled, every instinct screaming at me to survive.

The truth tumbled from my lips before I could stop it.

"A maid," I whispered.

Silence.

Then, he smiled.

Not a kind smile. Not a human smile.

No.

A monster's smile.

A slow, sick, twisted thing that sent ice down my spine.

His thumb traced my lower lip, his voice a dark promise.

"You're mine." His words were possessive, dripping with something dark, something primal. "Body, mind, and soul. And no one— absolutely no one —has the right to hurt you."

His lips brushed against my ear.

"Except me."

The weight of his words sank into my skin like ice-cold metal. You're mine. Body, mind, and soul. And no one has the right to hurt you—except me.

I couldn't move.

Couldn't breathe.

Adrik's fingers lingered against my throat for a second too long, his touch both possessive and threatening. My pulse hammered against his fingertips, betraying my fear, and judging by the way his smile widened, he liked it.

He finally released me, but the ghost of his touch remained. I clenched my fists, swallowing down the bile rising in my throat, desperate to keep my expression neutral. If I reacted, if I let him see how deeply he rattled me, he'd enjoy it too much.

But that wasn't the end of it.

Because the next words he spoke made my stomach drop.

"Bring the maid to me."

I stiffened. My eyes snapped up to his, panic clawing at my ribs.

No.

He wouldn't—

But of course he would.

Adrik never let things go. He was going to make an example out of her.

I opened my mouth, the words on the tip of my tongue, but before I could speak, his hand lifted again. I flinched, expecting another slap, but instead, he only dragged his knuckles along the stinging mark he'd already left on my face. A silent reminder. A warning.

He leaned in, lips barely an inch from mine.

"You look afraid," he murmured, his voice deep, silk laced with poison. "Good. You should be."

Then he stepped back, adjusting his cufflinks like we had just finished discussing the weather.

Mikhail, who had been silent the entire time, nodded once and disappeared into the mansion.

I felt sick.

I shouldn't care what happened to that maid. She had slapped me. She had humiliated me. I should be satisfied that she was about to suffer the consequences.

But the fear pooling in my stomach told me otherwise.

Because I knew Adrik.

And I knew that when he punished someone—it was never quick.

It didn't take long for Mikhail to return.

And this time, he wasn't alone.

The maid was dragged in by her arm, her terrified gaze darting around frantically as she stumbled into the garden. Her face was already pale, her breathing erratic, as if she could feel the noose tightening around her neck.

How did he know she was the one? The thought brought a consuming fear to me.

Adrik turned to face her.

For a moment, he said nothing. He simply watched her, allowing the silence to stretch and coil around her like a suffocating fog.

Then—"Kneel."

His voice was soft. Deceptively gentle.

The maid hesitated, her fingers shaking as they twisted into her apron.

Mikhail stepped forward, his hand resting lightly on his belt—where a blade was sheathed. A silent threat.

The color drained from her face. Slowly, she sank to her knees.

Adrik crouched down in front of her, tilting his head as if studying something pathetic and fragile. Like a child toying with a bug before crushing it beneath his heel.

"Did you hit her?" he asked, his voice almost conversational.

The maid's lips trembled. "I—" She stopped herself, glancing at me briefly, her face twisting in terror. She wanted to deny it.

But she knew it wouldn't matter.

Adrik already knew the truth.

"Yes," she whispered.

A flicker of something dark flashed in his eyes.

Then—he laughed.

A slow, low chuckle that sent a violent chill through my bones.

"She slapped you," he mused, turning his gaze to me. "And you let her?"

I felt my stomach twist.

I didn't respond. There was nothing I could say that would make this better.

Adrik sighed, shaking his head. Then, before I could process what was happening—

CRACK.

His fist connected with the maid's jaw, a brutal, unforgiving hit.

She choked on a cry, her body jerking as she toppled forward, hands barely catching her fall against the dirt. Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth, staining her chin, mixing with the soil beneath her fingers.

She gasped for air, trembling, too stunned to even scream.

I could only stare, my heart slamming into my ribs.

I had seen Adrik kill men without blinking. I had watched him torture his enemies with a sick kind of patience.

But this was different.

This was because of me.

And what terrified me the most—**what made my entire body go cold—**was the way he turned back to me, a satisfied smile curving his lips.

Like he had done something sweet. Something romantic.

Like this was his way of showing he cared.

He reached for me again, gripping my chin, forcing me to look at the bleeding woman on the ground.

"Watch," he whispered against my ear. "I want you to see how much I love you."

And then—he kept going.

The moment the maid stumbled to her feet, she bolted toward the house, her breath ragged, her legs moving faster than I thought possible.

Adrik let her run.

He watched, completely still, his face unreadable as she neared the entrance. As if he was enjoying the chase.

Then—

BANG.

The sharp crack of a gunshot split the air.

The maid's scream pierced through the night as her body crumpled mid-stride, collapsing onto the marble steps like a lifeless doll.

She clutched her leg, blood seeping between her fingers, her cries turning into ragged gasps of pain.

My hands flew to my mouth, a choked sound escaping me. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

Adrik turned to me slowly, his gun still warm in his grip, his expression eerily calm.

"When someone hits you," he said, speaking to me as if I were a child struggling to grasp a lesson, "you kill them."

I recoiled, my head shaking violently.

"No—"

"And then," his voice remained even, too even, "you chop up their body."

The words hit me like a knife to the gut.

The ground beneath me seemed to tilt, the world shrinking to just this moment. The maid sobbed on the ground, her fingers clawing at the bloodied dirt, trying to drag herself away.

She was still alive.

Which meant—he wanted me to finish her.

"No," I whispered, the word slipping from my lips like a prayer, my whole body trembling. "No, please—I won't do it again. I swear, Adrik, please—"

His head tilted, eyes narrowing slightly.

Then, he smiled.

"I know."

A pause. A heavy, suffocating pause.

"That's why you're going to do it now."

The air left my lungs.

The weight of his words settled over me like chains, wrapping around my throat, crushing me beneath their finality.

I staggered back a step, my pulse roaring in my ears.

Adrik's expression didn't change.

"Let's go." His voice was like steel now, cold and unyielding.

I didn't move.

His jaw twitched.

His next words sent a shiver down my spine.

"Or I'll drag you."

The maid whimpered, her body trembling as she lay sprawled across the bloodstained marble, her injured leg twisted unnaturally beneath her. Her hands clawed at the floor, trying—pathetically—to drag herself away.

Adrik let her struggle. Let her believe, for just a second, that she had a chance.

Then, he turned to me.

Calm. Unshaken.

Like this was just another day.

He reached into the inside pocket of his suit and pulled out a small, gleaming object.

A knife.

Not just any knife. A gutting knife.

Long, sharp, its blade clean—for now.

He extended it to me, his voice steady.

"Cut off her head."

The air left my lungs.

My ears rang, my body frozen in place. I stared at the blade, unable to move, unable to process what he had just said.

The maid sobbed, weakly shaking her head, her lips parting in desperate pleas.

"P-please," she choked, her voice hoarse from screaming. "Please, no—"

I shook my head just as frantically, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Adrik, please—I can't. I—"

He sighed.

Disappointed.

Annoyed.

Like I was some slow, ungrateful pet refusing to obey a simple command.

Then, in an instant—his patience snapped.

Before I could react, he grabbed me by the throat.

A gasp ripped from my lips as he yanked me forward, my body slamming against his. His grip wasn't tight enough to cut off my air—but it could be.

"Joy," he murmured, his voice low, dark. Lethal.

"You can't?"

I swallowed hard, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He exhaled, pressing his forehead to mine in a mockery of something intimate.

"Then let me make this simple," he whispered, his lips brushing my cheek. "Either you take the knife and kill her—or I take it and make you watch while I do something much, much worse."

Terror shot through me like ice.

My stomach twisted violently, bile rising in my throat.

The maid sobbed harder now, her broken body trembling as she tried to crawl away.

Adrik clicked his tongue.

"Running?" He let out a low chuckle. "You should've done that before you put your hands on what's mine."

Then, without warning—he kicked her.

A brutal, merciless strike to the ribs.

She cried out, her body jerking as she collapsed onto her back, her breath ragged, her pain thick in the air.

Adrik turned back to me, still holding the knife out.

Waiting.

Expecting.

I stared at the blade, my vision blurring, my hands shaking so violently I thought I might collapse.

But I knew.

I knew there was no escaping this.

Slowly—so, so slowly—I reached out and took the knife.

The handle felt heavy in my hands. Cold. Unforgiving.

Adrik's smile widened.

"Good girl," he murmured.

Then, stepping behind me, he placed his hands on my shoulders, lips brushing against my ear.

"Now," he whispered, voice dripping with something almost sickly sweet, "do it."

My hands trembled violently as I held the knife, its sharp edge gleaming under the dim light. The weight of Adrik's presence behind me pressed down like a heavy chain, inescapable, suffocating.

The maid was still on the ground, her breath coming in ragged, pained gasps, her blood staining the pristine marble beneath her. She knew what was coming. And so did I.

"Do it," Adrik murmured, his voice steady, devoid of mercy.

I shook my head frantically, my chest tightening. No. No, I couldn't.

Adrik exhaled, disappointed. Annoyed.

Then, his voice dropped into something darker. Colder.

"Joy." 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓻𝓮𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓟𝓪𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓸𝓷. Link in my bio

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