Do You Think I’m a Doll?

Celine Montgomery POV

I never knew life outside the walls of our mansion. I was Celine, the youngest daughter of the wealthy Montgomery family. I grew up spoiled and loved by my parents and my big sister, Mira. I wasn't strong. I wasn't mean. I was just an innocent girl, soaking in the warmth of my family’s laughter and my father’s stories about glory and power.

I believed that what we had would last forever. I never imagined that everything could be stolen in a single heartbeat.

That night, everything changed.

We were sitting around the fire, laughing at a joke my dad made. The smell of grilled meat filled the Great Hall. There was no sign of danger until the screams started.

Then the fire broke out.

I ran to the balcony, and my heart almost stopped. Darkness covered the woods, but it was lit up by the flames eating everything. I saw them. Hooded ghosts moving in the shadows.

This wasn't a robbery. It was a massacre.

I ran through the hallways. My bare feet shook against the cold floor. Bodies were everywhere. Screams got louder. Windows shattered and walls crumbled down.

Then I saw my father. He was standing in the middle of the mess. His body was covered in blood, and his eyes were searching for me. I ran toward him, but he stumbled and fell to his knees.

"Daddy!" I screamed. I got closer, only to see a sharp knife sticking out of his back. His body was full of bullet holes.

I froze. The killer was tall, wearing a black mask that hid his face. He pulled the knife out slowly and let my father’s body collapse. His blue eyes met mine. They were cold, mean, and had no mercy.

Before the killer could end my life, my father pushed me toward a secret door.

"Run, Celine!"

"But... Mom, Mira..."

"It’s too late for them!" Those were his last words before he closed his eyes forever.

My world shattered. I couldn't hear anything except my own heartbeat. I couldn't see anything except the blood.

Then I ran.

I don’t know how I reached the woods or how long I ran. All I know is that I was bleeding, shaking, and my soul was dying inside me.

Then I slammed into something hard.

"Dammit, what the...?!"

I looked up and saw blue eyes. They were cold, but not like the killer’s eyes. He was a tall man with a tough face and dark brown hair. A black leather jacket covered his strong, athletic body. Behind him, a fancy car shined in the dark.

He wasn't just a regular guy. He was a man with power.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked in a deep voice.

I didn't answer. I just fell into a darkness that felt like it would never end.

I woke up to a soft light, a high wooden ceiling, and the faint smell of coffee and expensive leather. I heard the sound of a quiet fire cracking and a cold breeze coming through an open window.

"Finally, you're awake."

I turned my head quickly. I saw him sitting in a big leather chair, watching me in silence.

"Where am I?" I whispered. I could barely hear my own voice.

"In my house," he said coldly. He picked up a glass of whiskey. "I found you in the woods. You were passed out and bleeding. Now, tell me... who are you?"

I put my hand on my head. Everything was blurry, but one thing was clear. I didn't have a home anymore.

"What’s your name?"

I hesitated, then mumbled, "Celine."

I didn't say my last name. I didn't have a family anymore.

He looked at me for a long time without saying a word. Then he sighed. "Michael Joseph. Professional fighter, billionaire, and the owner of the biggest underground fight club network in the country. I don’t like uninvited guests, but since you’re here, you better tell me why you were in the woods looking like you just crawled out of hell."

I felt something inside me break. I grabbed the blanket tightly and whispered, "Because I did crawl out of hell."

I saw a tiny change in his face, but he didn't ask more. He stood up and walked to the window.

"You have two choices. Either stay here and learn how to protect yourself, or leave right now and die out there."

I looked up at him. My swollen eyes burned from the tears I refused to let fall.

"I want to learn."

He nodded slowly, like he knew what I would say.

"Then get ready, because life here is not easy. I won't be nice to you. I won't spoil you. You’ll be like a little sister to me, and I’ll teach you how to turn from a broken girl into a fighter who can't be beaten."

I wasn't that weak girl who laughed with her family by the fire anymore. The person born today was a new creature.

I had to learn how to be strong. How to fight. How to hide my fear. Michael wasn't soft, but he was fair. He wasn't just a powerful man. He was the man who taught me how to live when I thought I was finished.

The people who killed my family think I died with them. But they will find out the truth soon. I will hide. I will wait. And then I will come back.

I won't come back as a lost girl. I will get my revenge, no matter what it costs me.

**********"

Many days passed. I don’t know how many. Maybe a whole year. The days all started to look the same. I became Celine Joseph. Michael didn't go easy on me, and I never asked him to. Cruelty didn't hurt me anymore. It became my way to stay alive.

The sound of my footsteps disappeared into the sounds of everyone else, but I heard them inside me like a loud noise. Eyes were watching me from every side. They were waiting. They wanted to see me fall more than they wanted to see me win.

And he was there. Michael. He stood in the middle of the circle like a statue. His face showed nothing. No anger, no mercy, no warmth. Just that annoying silence.

Then his voice cut through the air. It was low but sharp.

"Here we are, in front of everyone. Show me what you learned, Celine."

Everything inside me was shaking, even though I didn't let it show. My heart hammered against my ribs as I forced myself to step forward. I stood in front of him.

I tried to sound calm when I said, "Michael, we don’t have to play this game in front of them. We can train later."

But he cut me off like he always does.

"This isn't a game. Hit me."

His words felt like a slap. My heart froze. He was serious. He wanted me to hit him in front of everyone. Or did he want them to see how he could embarrass me? I was just a small girl standing in front of Michael's massive fighter body.

I hesitated. I raised my hand. It was a weak hit that barely touched his shoulder.

Then everything flipped.

His hand exploded toward me. His punch hit me right in the chest. The air disappeared from my lungs. I hit the ground hard. The pain hurt more on the inside than the outside. In that moment, I hated him as much as I trusted him.

People gasped. Faces looked shocked. But nobody moved.

I tried to breathe. I stood up. I hid my shaking hands. I looked up at him from the floor.

"Do you think I’m a doll you can just kick whenever you want?!"

My voice came out thick with anger.

He stepped closer. His shadow swallowed me up. He didn't even blink. Then he spoke with a deadly quiet voice.

"I think you’re still that spoiled little princess. You need a hard slap to remember that this world doesn't revolve around you."

Princess?! He was the one who made this princess. He was the one who ripped me out of my old world to rebuild me into this broken version of him. And now he looks down on me?

He backed away and left me there. The room felt small and everyone was silent.

A little while later, I saw him. He was screaming at a new student. He grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. The kid was shaking. Michael was doing it again. He was angry and scared to admit his own fear.

I stood there with my arms crossed. The fire inside me was burning.

I said to him coldly, "If you killed everyone who looked at me, you’d have to kill the whole team, Michael."

He turned to me. His voice sounded like fire.

"You see looks. I see intentions."

I stepped closer. I wasn't afraid of him anymore. I was afraid for him. I was afraid of what he was doing to himself.

"No, you see a threat in everything. Even in the eyes of a kid who doesn't know how to hate."

He punched the wall. The wall cracked. Dust fell from the ceiling. I just kept staring at him.

"Nobody is looking at you!"

He screamed from deep inside his chest.

"This isn't a romance novel! Nobody here is a handsome hero! Everyone here is a killer, including you."

I looked at him for a long time and didn't say anything.

Because he was right. And he was wrong.

Yes, I became a killer. But I wasn't born this way. 

He was the one who planted that fire. And now, I’m going to burn with it or I’m going to burn everyone else down.