Chapter 10

Rain fell in a melancholic symphony, each droplet a reflection of the shattered emotions within Aris’s heart. The dimly lit room seemed to echo his desolation, the flickering candlelight casting elongated shadows that danced on the walls. The atmosphere was heavy with the scent of dampness.

Emma stood before him, her eyes once warm pools of affection now glacial and distant. Her once enticing smile had turned into a cruel curve of indifference. The words she spoke cut through the air like a sharp blade, leaving wounds that ran deeper than any physical injury.

"You were nothing more than a pawn, Aris," her voice dripped with venom, each syllable laced with the disdain she now held for him. "I played with your emotions, danced upon the strings of your heart, all at my father's behest because we want revenge."

Aris heart raced, each word striking him like a sledgehammer. He had loved her with a depth he hadn't known was possible. She was his confidante, and the love of his life. Or so he had believed.

"You can't be serious," he whispered, his voice trembling as he tried to make sense of the nightmare that was unfolding before him. "This can't be true, Emma."

She let out a humorless laugh, the sound grating against his ears. "Oh, but it is, Aris. You were a means to an end, a game to entertain my father's twisted desires for power and control."

Tears welled up in Aris’s eyes, a mixture of heartache and disbelief. The room seemed to spin around him, his once solid ground now crumbling beneath his feet. "No, Emma, you can't have been faking all this time. The moments we shared, the love we made…" 

"Nothing but a facade," she interrupted coldly. "I'm done with it now. I've completed my task."

Aris fell to his knees, his chest constricting as if an invisible hand was squeezing the life out of him. "Please, Emma, don't do this. I love you. I need you. Don't leave me like this."

She looked down at him, her gaze devoid of any compassion. "Love is a weakness, Aris. It's a chain that binds you. I'm breaking free."

As she turned to leave, Aris desperation overcame him. He lunged forward, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. "I won't let you go. I won't let our love be reduced to ashes."

In a swift motion, Emma pulled her wrist free, her eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and impatience. "You still don't understand, do you? There was no 'our love.' It was a game, a mere illusion that you fell for."

The truth hit him like a tidal wave, drowning him in a sea of anguish. She looked at his face and left without caring.

He sat there, trapped in a nightmarish dream, a cold sweat clinging to his brow. His mind was ensnared by something horrible and haunting. Every detail of the nightmare felt too real, as if he were living through a nightmare he couldn't escape.

But then, with a sudden start, his eyes snapped open. In that moment, a profound sense of relief washed over him like a cleansing tide. The horrors of the dream instantly dissipated, retreating into the recesses of his subconscious. He took a deep breath, his racing heart slowly steadying, grateful that the waking world had rescued him from the clutches of his own terrifying imagination.

Emma’s P.O.V.

He left me there, naked and clamped my body exposed and vulnerable. The cold, dimly lit room terrified me; when I struggled against restraints, the metal biting into my wrists. The minutes stretched into hours, each passing moment filled with a mix of fear and anticipation.

Where I was now? Where was my savior, my father? I did all this for him, I deceived Aris, let him suffer but now I was suffering. My brea*ts were sore like hell.

After what felt like an eternity, the heavy door creaked open once again, revealing his imposing figure. He entered the room, his eyes fixed on me, a mix of dominance and control emanating from his every move. His presence alone sent shivers down my spine, a reminder of my helpless state. Today I was afraid of his next move. For the first time, I experienced this.

He approached me slowly, a wicked smile playing on his lips. His intention was clear - to punish me and assert his authority. With each step, he exuded power, his confidence unwavering. I looked straight into his eyes.

He strode forward and grabbed me by the face, his grip like iron.

“Don’t you know when master enters what should a slave to do?” He demanded an answer. I could see the rage in his eyes and I felt my own anger rising. As he tightened his grip, I spat in his face. This was sudden and unintentionally. His color changed in rage.

I knew I did a mistake, a horrible mistake.