."Why don't you show me some respect, then I will choose obedient wife," Sita didn't back down, her voice steel-edged, brown eyes blazing defiance.Felix barked out a laugh, the sound cold and devoid of humor, reverberating off the walls like shattering glass."Respect?" he mocked, his grip tightening on her arm like iron vise, veins bulging. "Why would I show respect to someone who's nothing but a defiant and disobedient brat?"He yanked her closer, their faces inches apart, hot breath mingling, his tone almost amused amid the storm."You think you deserve respect? You're nothing but a tool—a toy for me to play with. You belong to me, remember? You're mine to do with as I please."She slapped him hard—crack!—the sharp sound echoing through the room like thunder, her palm stinging. "Do you think I am plaything? Don't touch me with that dirty hand of yours—don't know how many bodies it's touched. So filthy!"The slap shocked the air into silence for a split second. Felix froze—not from pain, but disbelief. His eyes narrowed slowly, jaw clenching like grinding stone as he turned his head back, a thin trickle of blood oozing from the corner of his lip where her ring gouged him.Then he smiled. Cold. Dangerous. Twisted."Ah," he murmured, wiping the blood with his thumb, staring at the crimson smear like priceless art, tongue flicking the metallic tang. "There she is. The fire I always knew was buried under that meek little mask."He stepped forward—deliberately slow, predatory—backing Sita against the cold wall, her heart hammering like war drums."You think this changes anything?" he whispered, voice silky venom. "That one slap makes you brave? Makes you free?"His hand rose again... not to strike... but to brush a stray hair from her face in mocking tenderness, fingers lingering like a threat."I can't stand here," Sita snapped, losing patience, shoving his hand away with a snarl."No," he breathed, eyes gleaming, "you're still mine. But now… now it's going to be so much more fun breaking you."Felix's eyes hardened at her sarcastic title. He let go of her wrist, taking a measured step back, chest heaving."Okay, Master—what filthy words," Sita sneered, rubbing the red marks blooming on her skin."Don't call me that," he growled, expression slamming shut like a vault. "Don't you dare."His gaze flickered over her, calculating… assessing, sweat beading on his perfect brow."Anyway, I will take my leave. When my people come to take me," she declared, her brown eyes hollow with emptiness, voice flat as death."And where exactly are you expecting these people of yours to come and take you? You think they're actually going to bother rescuing you?" Felix scoffed inwardly, feeling the biggest joke of his life—can someone be that delusional? Liya snorted from the corner, nails digging into the sofa."Okay, Master. I don't care what you think or what you want. I'm here till my people come to take me."Felix clenched his fists, jaw tightening like a vice, knuckles whitening. He knew she was pushing his buttons, unraveling his control, but pride burned hotter than rage—wouldn't let him back down.He crossed his arms, the gesture defensive, muscles rippling under his shirt."I'm in control here... not you."Before he could finish, she kicked him hard in the gut—thud!—and punched in a raw flurry, fists flying like pistons. "Do you really think you can stop me from going? Ohhh... I think my hands work, doesn't it, mine?""You... little..."Felix stumbled back, one hand clutching his abdomen, hissing through gritted teeth, pain exploding like fire. He looked up, eyes swirling with dark fury and raw surprise.But he didn't stay down. With a guttural growl, he lunged, grabbing her wrist, momentum slamming her against the wall—bang!—breath ragged, faces inches apart."You think you can get away with that?" he demanded, grip crushing, veins throbbing."Of course I can," she hissed, body suddenly relaxed, twisting free with fluid grace. She dropped into the chair, legs crossed defiantly, pulse steady."You really think you are so strong, Felix, that you can keep me here as a servant for your girlfriend? Like, really? Dream on. I was obeying you because I had no other options—my parents, my own selfishness. If I hadn't acted all innocent, fragile, how could they marry me off to you and leave me alone?"Do you really think what happened back then till now—from our first encounter to today—was just coincidence, Felix? Like really?"I want to tell you something: all this was planned by me. Our marriage, everything. I can kill you right here, right now—nobody can stop me, not even your girlfriend.""Shut up..." he murmured, looking away, the muscle in his jaw ticking wildly, voice cracking for the first time.He let out a frustrated huff, raking hands through disheveled hair. For a moment, he seemed lost—trapped between his cold, arrogant mask and a flicker of buried fear.
Felix's grip on Sita's wrist tightens, tendons standing out like cords under his skin, his fingers digging in until pain flares along her bones. His eyes narrow to slits, jaw clenching as he processes her words. The usual arrogance and haughtiness on his face fade, replaced by something colder, more calculating—as if he's suddenly seeing a chessboard he thought he'd already won."You've been playing me all this time," he growls, anger creeping into his tone like smoke. "Acting meek and frail, letting me treat you like nothing more than a toy. And all this time, you've been planning to stab me in the back."He lets out a dark, humorless chuckle, but there's a flicker behind his eyes—something uneasy."Clever girl.""I'm not clear, Felix. Open your eyes—you're the stupid one. Anyone can use you." Her voice is low, sharp, like a knife slipping between ribs. "Look at your girlfriend. She's also using you, for her boyfriend's profit, which is your so-called best friend. How emotional is that?"Her eyes pin him. "You know what? You are too blind."Felix's expression darkens at your words, his jaw clenching so tight the muscle ticks. He knows you're hitting a sore spot. He knows you're speaking the truth—but the truth burns hotter than anger."Shut. Your. Mouth," he snarls, his grip on your wrist tightening to the point of pain, knuckles whitening. "You don't know what you're talking about. You don't know a damn thing about my life or my relationships.""Oh, please," she scoffs, straightening against the wall, refusing to flinch. "I know your every relationship history. You're the best and easiest target for everyone. You always act high and mighty, but you haven't even truly touched any women till now. Do you know that?"She leans in, voice dropping to a near whisper, hitting where it hurts most."You think you've spent countless nights in women's arms, but reality? They gave you sleeping drugs. That's why you don't remember a thing. That's why you behave like your mental stability is slipping. You're going to lose your mind if you keep going like this." She shakes her head slowly. "I told you—you need a therapist, dude."Felix staggers back as if physically struck, his cold mask cracking—just for a second. His breath hitches, shoulders rising sharply, pupils dilating in the dim light. The arrogance flickers, replaced by something raw: doubt.Then he laughs. A jagged, broken sound, almost like a reflex."You don't know anything," he snaps, but the edge is weaker now. Shaky. "Those women... they wanted me. They all did."For a heartbeat, silence swallows the room. Sita's gaze flicks to the faint scar on his wrist from an old IV line, the way he flinches at certain scents, the missing hours in his diary—pages torn out, corners crumpled. She can see the cracks in his perfect image.But before she can press further—before the truth can spill—his eyes lock with hers again. And the cold, sharp smile returns, like a blade sliding from its sheath."So what if I did?" he murmurs, voice rough. "What does it matter? You're still trapped here… and so am I."His voice drops to a whisper that brushes her ear like danger."Maybe we both need saving.""No." Her voice is cold, certain. "You're the one in delusion. I can leave anytime I want. You—" She points at him. "You're stuck here because of your parents, your lack of responsibility, and so many stupid choices."Her eyes rake over him."That's why your girlfriend is here. You can't go out. You can't decide. You're not the master here, Felix. Your parents are. You're just a puppet."Felix's grip on her wrist loosens, his fingers uncurling like a fist finally giving in. His expression twists with a mix of anger, frustration, and—deep under it all—something fragile breaking through: vulnerability."Shut up..." he murmurs, looking away, the muscle in his jaw ticking wildly. "You don't understand... you don't know..."He lets out a frustrated huff, hand sliding through his hair, strands falling loose. For a moment, he seems lost, caught between the polished, cold persona he shows the world and the shattered pieces underneath."I already told you the whole history," Sita says, voice rising, every word pressing harder on his nerves, making him manic, making his pulse jump. "Still, you're acting this clueless. You are too dumb."Felix clenches his fists, jaw tightening with tension, bruises already forming at his ribs from her earlier kick. He knows she is pushing his buttons, knows he's losing control over the situation. But pride burns too loud to let him admit it."I don't need your pity or your understanding," he snaps, shoulders squaring despite the tremor in his fingers. "And I sure as hell don't need you psychoanalyzing me to make sense of my life."He crosses his arms, the gesture defensive, body bracing like a shield."I'm in control here... not you."
."Okay Master. I don't care what you do, what you want. I'm here till my people come to take me. I don't plan to live here."Felix's eyes harden at the sarcastic title. His fingers let go of her wrist as if they've just realized what they're holding. He takes a measured step back, shoulders tensing, but his gaze doesn't leave her."Don't call me that," he growls, the words low, tight. His expression closes off again, like a mask sliding back into place. "Don't you dare."His gaze flickers over her, calculating, searching—measuring whether she's bluffing, whether she's serious, whether she's breaking."And where exactly are you expecting these people of yours to come and take you?" he asks, voice dropping slightly, almost mocking again. "You think they're actually going to bother rescuing you?""Ohh god, you're dumb," she snaps, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead, eyes flashing. "I already told you—all of this is planned. It's not hard for me to leave. The only thing… it's just that I don't like to leave without doing something I came for."For a second, something flickers in his eyes—uncertainty, maybe even the first crack of doubt. But he pushes it down.Felix's eyes narrow. Her calmness, her complete lack of fear, is only making him angrier."And what exactly are you planning to do, huh?" he demands, jaw clenching, teeth grinding together. "You really think you can outsmart me? Escape without any consequences?"He takes a step forward, closing the distance between them. The air grows heavier, thicker, as if the room refuses to hold their anger."You're playing with fire, darling," he says, voice low and dangerous. "And believe me when I say you'll get burned.""Thank you for the warning," Sita says, almost casually. Then she adds with a faint smirk, "But one thing you have that's better than others—what makes you different—is your beautiful face. Don't you think, darling?"For a second, Felix freezes. At her unexpected compliment, his usually sharp, guarded expression falters. His gaze softens slightly, caught off guard by the warmth in her tone, by the way her eyes actually linger on his face.He recovers quickly, though, swallowing hard and scoffing, trying to push down the strange reaction in his chest."You're trying to flatter me now?" he says, voice laced with skepticism, hands clenching at his sides. "Don't think a few pretty words will soften me up."Sita was quick—too quick for him to regain full control."Definitely not your face," she says calmly, voice steady now. "Your face has always caught me off guard. The first time I saw you was at your birthday party. I saw your face, such a beautiful face. I was just twelve years old that time."Her gaze drifts slightly, as if she's watching a memory instead of him."Next time we met… it wasn't a good kind of meeting, you know," she continues, voice quieter now. "That was my first day in high school. I saw you in the corridor. I wanted to talk to you, but what I saw was a teacher touching you inappropriately. The way you looked at me—with something broken in your eyes—made my heart ache. That day, seeing you in pain, I couldn't control myself. I literally… almost killed that teacher."Her fingers tighten on the arm of the chair, knuckles whitening."When everyone gathered, I told them, 'Don't do anything wrong… don't do anything wrong,' but they didn't trust me." She lets out a breath, shoulders sagging slightly. "I expected you to say the truth. But you didn't even look at me. My parents… they sent me abroad. Your face was always in my mind. I always, always thought about how you'd look while growing up. Third time we met was at a party. After that… you know what happened."Felix falters once again, more visibly this time. His chest tightens, his breath catching for a fraction of a second. Her words stir something deep inside him—something conflicted and raw, memories he'd tried to bury under sarcasm and control.His expression flickers between confusion, anger, and something else—something like pain, something like guilt."Shut up," he says, but the command wavers, losing its edge. "You… you don't know what you're talking about.""I know what I'm talking about," Sita replies, voice softer now, almost gentle. "You were always a coward. You didn't dare speak up. Back then… till now. That time, you should've told your parents. When I was saying he was assaulting you, you denied it."Her eyes bore into him, steady, unrelenting."You should've spoken up," she continues, voice quiet but firm. "But you didn't. And nobody believed me. My parents… they never listened to what I'm saying. Especially not when they're trying to…" She hesitates, lips thinning, then cuts off with a soft laugh. "Anyway."Felix turns away, jaw so tight it looks like it might crack. His fingers curl into fists at his sides, knuckles white, tendons pulling tight under his skin. He stares at the wall as if it can give him an answer."I was twelve," he says quietly—so low it's almost a whisper. "What the hell was I supposed to do?"A beat of silence hangs between them, heavy and uncomfortable.Then he laughs—bitter, broken, edges sharp."And you…" he says slowly, turning his head back to face her again. "All this time? You came back for me? After everything I've done?"He finally looks at her properly, eyes sharp but uncertain, searching for any hint of a lie."Why?""It's not for you," she says, voice steady but calm. "It's for myself. I wanted to see you… before I leave for abroad."Felix raises an eyebrow, his gaze calculating and slightly suspicious, but there's a softness there now, something he can't quite hide."For yourself, huh?" he says, voice lower. "Not for me, but… you just wanted to see me?"He takes a step towards her, gaze roaming over her face, studying her eyes, the set of her mouth, the way she's still sitting there on the chair, composed, unshaken."And what," he continues, tone a mix of disbelief and curiosity, "was so important that you had to come here just to see me? After all this time?"She lets out a breath, gaze steady, voice flat but honest."I'm not a person who likes to lie," she says. "But looking at your pathetic side, I should find someone else. There are plenty of people. Surely I'll find someone. As for my test…" She pauses, then looks at him with a faint, almost bitter smile. "All this time she was sitting on chair like whole world belong to her.