Possession Has a Voice

~~~ DARK DOMAIN – 5:00 PM ~~~

~~~ TRAINING ROOM ~~~

The thudding of fists against leather echoed through the training room like war drums.

Scylla’s knuckles slammed into the heavy bag again and again—ferocious, relentless. Sweat streamed down her temples, clinging to her jawline, but she didn’t care. The sting in her arms, the fire in her chest—none of it was enough. She needed pain. She needed to feel something real, something that could distract her from everything boiling beneath the surface.

Another punch. Another hit. Another ghost silenced.

She didn’t stop until the footsteps came.

Slow. Measured. Close.

She spun on instinct, fist flying toward the intruder’s face—but he ducked, just in time.

“Whoa.” Fire’s voice broke through the tension, his hands raised as he straightened up, barely missing her strike.

“Fire,” she hissed, lowering her hand, but not the heat in her glare. Her eyes were sharp and distant—like a blade left in the cold.

“Hey.” He gave a small, tentative smile as he stepped closer, cautious as if approaching a wild animal.

Scylla exhaled sharply and turned her back on him, grabbing a towel and dropping into a chair like the weight of the world had just landed on her shoulders.

“You’ve been off lately,” Fire said gently, sitting beside her. “What’s going on? You hardly talk to anyone anymore.”

“I’m fine,” she muttered, wiping the sweat from her face without meeting his eyes. “What are you even doing here?”

“I came because I’m worried.” He turned to face her fully. “And because I’m sick of watching you destroy yourself in silence. You’ve been picking fights with everyone—even the boss. You know that’s dangerous, right?”

“Mind your own damn business, Fire,” she snapped, standing up and brushing past him.

He reached for her wrist. “Wait—”

“Don’t fucking touch me!” she screamed, yanking away. Her voice cracked under the weight of suppressed emotion, and for a second, it was raw, vulnerable.

Fire recoiled, shocked by the intensity. “What the hell is your problem?”

Scylla’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears, but her face remained hard—defiant. She turned sharply as two more figures entered the room.

“What’s going on here?” Kendrox asked, walking in with Sage on his heels.

“Nothing,” Scylla barked, already halfway to the exit. “We were just talking.”

She disappeared through the doors, leaving silence in her wake.

Fire let out a frustrated breath. “She’s unbelievable.”

He moved to follow, but Kendrox stopped him with a firm hand on his chest.

“Let her go,” Kendrox said, his voice low. “She’s going through more than you know.”

“Like what?” Sage asked, arms crossed.

Kendrox hesitated. Then, almost reluctantly, he said, “I’m not supposed to say anything, but... Scylla was in prison before Sandro brought her here.”

Fire blinked. “Prison? For what?”

“Murder.” Kendrox’s voice dropped even lower. “She killed her father.”

There was a stunned silence.

“Why?” Sage whispered.

“I don’t know the whole story. Only the boss does. He pulled her out himself. Whatever happened... it must’ve been bad.”

Fire ran a hand through his hair, tension in every line of his body. “She really had it hard.”

---

~~~ ALESSANDRO PALACE – WEST WING – 10:18 PM ~~~

Marianna rolled onto her side, then onto her back, then onto her stomach. Sleep refused to come.

Not while he was still out.

She didn’t know why it mattered so much—maybe it was the heaviness in her chest, the questions building in her throat. She’d made up her mind tonight. She was going to talk to him. No fear, no stuttering. Just the truth.

Her phone lit up. Their group chat.

Jenny: What the hell is going on with you guys?

Caspian: I was absent for a reason. I’m sorry I didn’t call.

Jenny: Not like it’s the first time you ghosted me 🙄

Caspian: Jenny I’m really sorry 😞

Anna: Guys… 😥

Jenny: Here comes the ghosting queen 🙄

Anna: I’m sorry. I was in a tight spot.

Jenny: Still not an excuse to disappear for two weeks. I thought we were friends.

Caspian: She went offline.

Anna: She’s really angry…

Caspian: I feel her pain. Her best friends ghosted her. Talk later.

Marianna sighed and put the phone down. She felt the sting of guilt—so much had changed so fast. She didn’t even recognize herself anymore.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway jolted her upright. She grabbed her phone and ran out of her room. Down the corridor. Around the corner.

The guards opened the door for him.

Alessandro walked in, tall and unreadable as ever, not even sparing her a glance.

She stood frozen as the other cars rolled away toward the garage.

Then she followed.

---

The maid showed her to his room. She knocked once. No answer.

Twice. Nothing.

She opened the door slowly—and was immediately hit by the smell of cigar smoke.

Her breath caught.

The room was massive. Elegant. Dark.

Expensive black paintings covered the walls. The furniture gleamed. Everything screamed power.

But her attention snapped to the man emerging from the bathroom, towel around his neck, hair still wet.

Shirtless.

He looked like something carved out of marble and danger.

“What are you doing here?” His cold voice sliced through the silence, making her jump.

“I—” Her voice trembled. “I wanted to talk.”

He moved closer. Slow. Deliberate.

“About the guards,” she said, forcing herself to meet his eyes. “I couldn’t go out today because of them. It’s uncomfortable.”

“You’ll get used to it,” he said flatly. “What else?”

“We’re still on the same subject,” she snapped. “I don’t need them!”

He took another step toward her. His eyes narrowed.

“Stop pretending to be brave in front of me, kitten,” he murmured. “You’re trembling.”

“I’m not—”

“Please,” she begged, voice cracking.

He stared at her for a long moment, then turned away.

“You should’ve known what marrying me meant.”

She flinched.

“And why didn’t you go to school? I told you—it might be your last day.”

“What did you mean?” she asked.

He handed her a file. Her fingers trembled as she flipped through the pages.

“You… changed my name? And my school?”

He lit a cigarette and exhaled slowly.

“You’re my wife. You carry my name now. Everything I own is half yours, kitten. So enjoy it.”

Her phone rang.

She turned away instinctively. “Hello?”

“Congratulations, miss. Your father was transferred to a new hospital today. Just calling to confirm you were informed.”

Marianna’s blood ran cold.

Her mom would never do that. Never help her like that.

“Which hospital?” she asked.

“Esposito Hospital.”

Her heart dropped.

She turned to him slowly. Tears welled in her eyes.

“Did you… do that?”

He didn’t answer. Just smoked in silence.

“Did you?” she whispered again.

He threw the cigarette into the ashtray.

“Stop questioning me. What else do you want?”

She stepped closer.

“Thank you, Sandro,” she whispered.

His head lifted.

“What did you just call me?”

“I—I’m sorry if—”

“Only my mom calls me that,” he murmured. “Hearing it from you… almost turns me on.”

Her breath caught.

He looked at her again. “Why are you always crying?”

She wiped her tears quickly. “About the guards—”

“My answer hasn’t changed. As my beloved wife, you should learn to obey.”

She stepped even closer, almost afraid of herself. “Why are you doing all this?”

“Because you’re mine,” he said simply. “And I’ll give you anything you want. Just ask.”

She smiled faintly. Something cracked open in her chest.

“Don’t change my school,” she said softly.

“That school doesn’t suit you,” he replied. “You’re my lady now. People will talk.”

“But I love it… please,” she pleaded.

He leaned in, caging her between his arms against the desk. She gasped.

“When will you stop challenging me?” he whispered.

“I… okay. But keep the guards out of sight,” she mumbled.

“Good girl.”

Her phone buzzed again.

His eyes darkened.

Leo.

“Your little toy,” he said, voice a dark purr.

“Excuse me,” she said, flustered.

“You’re excusing yourself… for him?” he growled.

“Sandro, please—”

He snatched the phone.

“Wouldn’t it be fun if he heard you moaning under me?” he said darkly. “Maybe even saw it—if this were a video call.”

Her face flamed.

He hit “Answer.”

“Babe?” Leo’s voice rang out.

She reached to grab the phone—but Sandro pushed her down onto the desk and pinned her in place, placing the phone not far from them.

“What are you doing?” she whispered in horror.

“Watch me,” he said.

His hand slid under her shirt, grabbing her breast and squeezing hard.

She gasped. “Sandro—!”

He smirked.

The line was still open.

And Leo was still listening.