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That’s when he snaps. His face twists in a way I’ve never seen before, a mix of anger and desperation and something darker than the usual cold rage.

“You want to fight me?” he growls. “You think you can do whatever you want because I lick your pussy, huh?”

Before I can react, he grabs my wrist, yanking me toward him. I struggle, trying to break free, but his grip is too strong. I feel a surge of panic, my heart hammering in my chest as he picks me up easily and stomps to the bedroom.

My mind races, thoughts flying in every direction as I try to find a way out of this.

“Stop!” I shout, but my voice comes out shaky. “Remo, don’t—”

“Shut up,” he barks, his hands firm as he ties my hands to the bed rails. The roughness of the rope bites into my skin, and my heart sinks, a cold chill running through me.

I thrash, panic rising in my throat, my breath coming in short gasps. “You can’t do this! Remo, please—”

“You think I won’t?” he sneers, his eyes dark and filled with a kind of anger I’ve never seen before. “You think I won’t do whatever it takes to protect you, to keep you safe? Why can’t you just trust me, Daniela?”

I try to break free again as my mind screams at me to escape, but he’s too strong. A knife flashes in front of my face, the blade gleaming in the dim light. I freeze. The reality of the situation slams into me like a truck.

“You’re never leaving me,” he says, his voice quiet now. “And if you keep pushing me, I’ll do what needs to be done. What I should have done from the beginning. Don’t fucking make me go there.”

My body trembles, not just from fear but from the weight of what’s happening. I’ve seen Remo angry before, but this…this is something else. I can see the madness in his eyes, the edge of desperation he’s always tried to hide behind his control.

I know he means it.

Then, he leaves without another word, slamming the door behind him. And I’m left there, tied up, with my heart racing and every inch of my body screaming to escape.

I hear the sound of his voice outside the door—the harsh, clipped words telling someone to bring me food. Then I hear the footsteps fading, though his presence lingers even after he’s gone.

I hate this. I hate him. And yet, there’s a part of me that knows this is just the beginning. Just another step in the twisted dance we’re both caught in.

****

Remo

I watch her struggle, her eyes wide with anger, confusion, and fear.

It’s the only thing that still gets to her, the one thing I can use to remind her of the boundaries, the things she doesn’t get to cross.

I’m not afraid to use the knife. And I’m not afraid to cause damage. If I have to, I’ll make her understand that this isn’t a game.

I won’t be the one who gets hurt in this. If anyone has to break, it’s her. She may think I’m bluffing, but deep down, she knows damn well I’m not.

I just want to shut her up and stop her from making this harder than it has to be.

She kept fighting me, kicking and screaming. She doesn’t get it. She never has. She thinks she has control over this, over me. But she doesn’t. Not anymore. I’m not the one who’s weak here.

I’m back in the room after five hours.

I stand there, watching her for a moment and letting the tension settle in the room. It feels like too much. I shouldn’t have done it. But I did.

And now she has to deal with the consequences.

She is calm now. It means she gets it.

She pauses when she spots me, her body going rigid as she stares at the steel in my hands, at the promise of pain if she pushes me too far.

I untie her hands, ignoring her silent glare as I leave the room.

I don’t need to check on her again tonight.