I sat on the cold floor, hugging my knees. My chin rested on them as if all the strength in my bones had collapsed. My eyes were open, but everything looked far away… like the world was happening behind a glass wall.
I kept replaying it.
His voice.
His face.
The way his words sliced into the parts of me I thought were long dead.
"Don't leave me again."
The way his voice cracked when he said it…
It shook me. It broke something inside me.
And I hated that.
I hated that I felt anything at all.
For years, pain was the only thing strong enough to keep me alive.
Pain sharpened me.
Hatred kept me breathing.
But tonight, everything got mixed—pity, guilt, confusion, weakness. Emotions I threw away long ago came crawling back like hungry shadows.
I dug my nails into my skin.
"No," I whispered to myself. "I can't fall again. Not here. Not because of him."
Leon was dangerous for me. Not because he was powerful—but because he made me feel.
If I stayed, I would get weaker.
If I stayed, I would forget my purpose.
If I stayed… the people who destroyed my life would walk free.
I lifted my head slowly, staring at nothing.
"I will make him send me away," I whispered.
My voice trembled, but the decision was firm.
"If he refuses to let me go, then I will force him to."
The night air was silent when I pushed his door open.
Slammed it, actually.
I wanted chaos.
I wanted noise.
I wanted him annoyed.
But the moment the door flew open, I stopped breathing.
He sat on the edge of the bed, shirtless, his back facing me.
White bandages wrapped around fresh wounds.
Old scars crossed his skin like forgotten stories.
He looked like a man who had survived too many battles alone.
For one second, my revenge plan paused.
Seeing his injuries made something inside me twist painfully.
I swallowed the feeling quickly and walked in.
He didn't turn.
He didn't flinch.
He knew I entered—he always knew.
I moved until I knelt right in front of him. Our eyes met.
His gaze was tired, deep, unreadable… but far too calm for a man who should be furious at me.
I forced a soft smile.
"Let's get married."
His eyes widened.
The shock in his face almost made me burst into nervous laughter.
He said nothing, so I continued.
"You're doing all this because you want me. Fine. You can have me. But on one condition…"
I took a deep breath.
"…you'll let me go back to Aaron's side for six months. After that, I'll return. I'll marry you. I'll stay forever."
His jaw tightened.
His shoulders stiffened.
His breath changed.
"No."
His voice was gentle. Too gentle.
"I won't let you go."
I felt irritation crawl up my spine.
"Listen, if you insist on keeping me here, I will keep trying to escape. If you let me go, I promise I'll come back."
"No."
He didn't shout.
He didn't argue.
He just refused.
I stood immediately, anger exploding through me.
"I tried to be reasonable because you got hurt saving me, but you want it the hard way."
I stepped closer, glaring into his unmoving eyes.
"If you don't let me go, I swear I will make your life unbearable."
Then I stormed out before the emotions in my chest could betray me.
The next morning, I sat in front of the maids like a commander inspecting soldiers.
They stood in a straight line, hands folded, heads down.
"You," I said, pointing at one in the middle.
She flinched.
"Tell me everything you know about your Alpha."
They all exchanged confused glances. Maybe they expected me to ask for food or clothes, not information.
The chosen maid finally spoke.
"Since we started serving here, the Alpha… he's always been alone. He rarely speaks to us. But Madam Clarita knows him best. She raised him."
My eyes narrowed with interest.
Another maid added quickly, "He loves Madam Clarita like a mother."
Ah.
There it was.
A weakness.
I smiled slowly.
If something happened to the nanny he adored, he'd be too distracted to notice me slipping out of this mansion forever.
I asked, "Apart from Madam Clarita, who else is dear to him?"
They hesitated.
Then one spoke boldly, "The Alpha has never brought any woman here. You are the first, you must be really special to him."
My heart skipped in confusion.
I don't know why that comment hit me so hard.
I didn't want it to.
But something warm tried to move inside me.
I cleared my throat.
"I didn't ask about his love life," I muttered and walked away awkwardly.
But my cheeks were warm.
I hated it.
---
I went to the back of the mansion, where the maids said Madam Clarita often stayed.
I heard a loud clap—wood hitting wood.
When I stepped in, I saw the nanny frowning at two crying maids.
She slammed a plank against the table again.
"Recook this! The young master does not eat shrimps! How many times must I repeat myself?"
Her voice was sharp enough to cut metal.
Her grey hair was tied neatly behind her head.
She looked old but strong enough to break a bone with her bare hands.
Then she turned and saw me.
The glare she shot me made my heart jump.
I came to use her against Leon, but now I was the one frozen.
She walked toward me with the speed of a storm.
Stopped right in front of me.
Stared into my soul without blinking.
Before I could speak, she grabbed my ear.
I screamed.
She dragged me across the kitchen like a stubborn child.
I was too shocked to even resist.
She stopped in front of half-chopped vegetables.
Then she slapped a knife into my hand.
"Leon got hurt because you were stubborn," she said.
"If you want to leave so badly, fine. But first, cook him a proper meal to thank him for saving your life."
I stood there, useless, stunned.
I opened my mouth to argue, but no words came out.
Her authority felt heavier than Leon's.
She held my wrist and placed the knife firmly in my palm.
"Revenge is good," she said bluntly, "but you need power to fight power. Right now, you are only digging your grave."
My eyes widened.
My heart raced.
How did she know?
Did Leon tell her?
Did he know my plans already?
Questions flooded my head, but she kept talking.
"I was there the night you arrived," she said softly. "I tended to your wounds myself. I heard you scream in your sleep. I know you hate him. If you return to where you came from, it can only be for revenge."
My chest tightened.
Tears threatened to fall, so I turned away quickly and blinked hard.
She continued, "If you couldn't fight him while you were under his roof, what makes you think you will defeat him by going back weaker than you left?"
Her words hit me harder than any slap.
I stood still, breathing heavily as memories of my past flashed through my mind—my pain, my suffering, everything I had buried.
She put her hand on my arm gently.
"Chop those vegetables. The young master is hungry."
Then she walked away.
Her words didn't follow me.
They stabbed me.
Tears slid down my face before I could stop them.
She didn't know what I had gone through.
She didn't know how deep my hatred ran.
She had no right to speak to me like that.
"You don't understand," I whispered with my voice trembling.
"You don't know how much I've suffered."
My whole body shook with anger.
Her voice came again from behind, calm but firm:
"And you don't know how much the young master has sacrificed for you."
I froze.
She didn't wait for me to ask questions.
She simply left me there, alone with a knife and a mountain of emotions clawing at my chest.
Tears fell faster.
"His sacrifices are nothing compared to my revenge," I whispered.
"I will leave this place. Even if I have to break everything to do it."
My hand tightened around the knife.
"I will leave… even if I have to kill someone to get out."
The knife stabbed into the cutting board with a sharp, angry sound.
The vegetables shook.
But my resolve… it stood still.
The war inside me had just begun.