"From now on, you'll do exactly as I tell you," he said, his tone turning cold and sharp like the edge of a blade. He took a step closer, and for a moment, his presence became overwhelming, intimidating in a way I hadn't expected. I refused to respond, keeping my lips sealed in defiance.
"I said do you understand me?" he asked again, his voice firm with authority, leaving no room for questions.
Before I could think twice, I nodded... almost involuntarily, as though his words held some invisible leash around my will.
He smiled, a wicked curve of his lips that made me feel like a pawn in a game I hadn't agreed to play. "Good girl," he whispered, the words dripping with control.
"Back to where we were," he said with a satisfied air, moving toward the massive couch that sat proudly at the center of the room like a throne. He sank into it, legs spread, one arm resting lazily on the side.
"Come here," he ordered, voice sharp, direct.
I turned my face away from him, breaking eye contact deliberately. I wasn't ready to submit not without resistance.
"I told you not to do that, remember?" he snapped, his voice carrying a dangerous edge now. "Now come here. Don't make me repeat myself again, darling."
The way he said darling, it wasn't sweet. It was a warning wrapped in silk.
Reluctantly, I stood up, my body moving before my mind could resist. Like a well-trained pet, I started to walk toward him.
But his voice stopped me cold.
"No."
He stood halfway from the couch, eyes burning into mine.
"I don't want you to walk."
My heart skipped a beat.
"I want you on all fours... like a loyal dog. Slowly, you'll crawl to me with your eyes fixed on mine."
My breath caught in my throat, and yet... I smirked, lifting a brow with amused rebellion.
"Why would I, hun?" I asked, feigning confidence.
His jaw tightened.
"Because I ordered you to!" he roared, his voice echoing in the room. He was losing patience, and the cracks in his calm were showing.
A strange thrill stirred within me, and I wondered just how far he was willing to go.
"Make me," I whispered, my voice laced with quiet defiance.
He chuckled, a dark sound that made the hairs on my neck rise. He leaned forward just slightly, eyes narrowing with sinister amusement.
"You see, Allicia," he said, dragging out my name as if tasting it on his tongue, "your every act of disobedience will cost you something... something precious."
He paused.
"Your mother's life."
My heart stopped.
I froze numb, paralyzed by the weight of his words.
"You wouldn't dare," I barked back, my voice trembling more than I wanted it to. My chest tightened with panic, my fists clenched at my sides.
But he only smiled, slow and smug. "Yeah... just as I expected," he muttered with a tilt of his head, like he'd been waiting for that exact reaction. "Now, if you don't want your mother hurt... you'll do exactly as I say. Understood?"
My lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, my head dipped in submission, shame crawling over my skin like a second layer.
Is this it? Is this how miserable my life would be... from now on? I thought. Controlled, cornered, and stripped of my choices.
"Let's start again," he said, his voice colder now, any trace of amusement gone. "I want you to crawl to me on all fours. And don't you dare look away. Keep your eyes on mine."
There was no room left for hesitation. If it meant keeping my mother safe, I had to let go of my pride no matter how much it burned.
Reluctantly, I lowered myself to the floor, the cold marble stinging against my palms and knees. I felt the weight of his gaze as I positioned myself, my heart pounding louder than my thoughts.
"Good girl," he muttered, pleased.
"Now come to me. Slowly."
I did as told, one cautious movement at a time, crawling toward him like a puppet without strings. The silence between us was thick, only broken by the quiet sound of my hands brushing the floor. I kept my eyes locked on his, even though everything in me screamed to look away.
Once I reached him, I stopped. My body trembled just slightly.
He smiled. A soft, almost affectionate curve that made my stomach twist in knots. "You'd be so sweet, my little dove," he murmured, brushing his hand gently along my cheek. His touch was surprisingly tender, but the power behind it was suffocating.
"Now stand," he said.
I obeyed.
"Closer," he added, and I stepped in.
Without a word, he reached for the hem of his shirt and began to pull it up. Just as I tried to help him, he grabbed my hand gently but firmly.
"No, darling," he whispered, voice laced with quiet command. "Keep your eyes on me. Gently now. Slow."
His gaze bore into me, and I wasn't sure what I saw there.
Was it desire?
Control?
Or something much darker, something broken?.