The night was heavy with silence, save for the occasional creak of the old wooden floors and the distant hum of the city outside. Kezia sat at her vanity, her eyes staring into the mirror, but she wasn't really looking at her reflection. The flickering candlelight cast faint shadows on her face, accentuating the hollow look in her eyes.
Her mind kept replaying the confrontation in the garden—Lucas's calm, steady presence, and Ethan's venomous threats. But more than that, it was the shift that had happened within her, one she hadn't anticipated. Lucas's words—his quiet defiance of Ethan's behavior—had somehow stirred something inside her, something that had long been buried. It was a small thing, a tiny spark of defiance, but it was enough to make her question everything.
The past months had been an endless cycle of suppression, of pretending to be the perfect wife, of smiling through the pain and the humiliation. But with Lucas's arrival, something inside her had started to crack.
There was more to life than this.
She turned her gaze to the window, where the moonlight filtered in, casting soft shadows on the walls. She had no illusions. She was trapped in this gilded cage. But Lucas had shown her that there was still some form of kindness left in the world—something she had almost forgotten existed.
As she stood to leave her room, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, growing louder. Her heart sank when she recognized the familiar, oppressive presence. Ethan.
The door creaked open before she could even think to hide her emotions. Ethan stood in the doorway, his posture stiff, his eyes cold and calculating.
"Where were you?" he asked, his voice low, though the edge of fury was unmistakable.
Kezia's heart raced, but she refused to show any fear. "I was in the garden," she replied quietly, though her tone was firm.
Ethan stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. He walked toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. There was something in his expression—something dark, something possessive.
"I don't appreciate you speaking to Lucas like that," he said, his words calculated and slow. "You think he's your ally, don't you? Well, let me remind you of your place."
Kezia clenched her fists at her sides, resisting the urge to flinch under his gaze. She had endured his insults for far too long. "I haven't asked for anyone's help," she said evenly, though her voice was trembling beneath the surface.
Ethan's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Oh, I know you haven't. That's the problem, isn't it? You're so used to playing the martyr, Kezia. So used to pretending you're fine when you're not."
His eyes scanned her face, reading her as though she were an open book. "I'll tell you this now—Lucas might feel sorry for you, but he won't save you. He can't. No one can."
Kezia's breath caught in her throat. It wasn't the first time Ethan had spoken like this, but tonight, it felt different. His words were sharper, laced with an almost sickening sense of control.
"I don't need anyone to save me," she said, her voice quiet but resolute. "Not even you."
Ethan's eyes flared with anger. He took a step forward, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop. The distance between them felt impossibly small now. "You're mine, Kezia. Do you understand that?" His voice was low, dangerous, and there was a venomous bite to his words. "You belong to me. And if you ever forget that—if you ever think you can escape—it'll be the last thing you ever do."
Kezia's heart raced, but this time, she refused to let him see her fear. She straightened, lifting her chin, despite the way his words made her insides churn.
"I know exactly where I belong," she said, her voice trembling with barely contained anger. "I belong nowhere. But I don't belong to you. Not anymore."
Ethan took another step forward, and the air between them seemed to crackle with tension. "You've always been so naïve, haven't you?" he murmured, his voice softening just a touch. "You think you can challenge me. You think you can defy me. But let me make one thing clear, Kezia: you're not leaving. You're not going anywhere. You're mine. You'll stay here, and you'll keep up the charade. Or I'll make sure you regret it."
Kezia swallowed hard, her pulse pounding in her ears. There was something in his eyes—something that both terrified and repelled her. It was a cold, unyielding darkness, and she could see it now more clearly than ever. Ethan wasn't just her husband. He was a man who thrived on control, on the power he wielded over her. And as long as she remained in his grip, she would never be free.
But for the first time in a long time, Kezia didn't back down. She lifted her chin higher, meeting his gaze with steady determination.
"If I have to stay here," she said quietly, her words almost a whisper, "then you'll have to do more than just threaten me, Ethan. You'll have to break me completely. Because I'm done pretending."
There was a long, heavy silence. Ethan didn't move. He didn't even blink. But his expression shifted, the faintest flicker of something—surprise? Uncertainty?—crossing his features before he quickly masked it with his usual smugness.
"You'll regret this, Kezia," he muttered darkly. "You can play this game if you want. But I'm always one step ahead. Always."
Kezia didn't respond. She simply stood there, her heart pounding, her mind racing. She knew that this moment marked a shift, a crack in the facade she had so carefully maintained. But she wasn't sure if it was the beginning of her liberation—or the beginning of something even darker.
Without another word, Ethan turned and left the room, his footsteps heavy as they echoed down the hallway. Kezia remained where she was, her legs weak beneath her. She had spoken her truth, but the weight of it settled over her like a cloak.
She couldn't afford to be weak anymore. She couldn't afford to let Ethan's cruelty break her.
But as she stood there, looking at her reflection in the mirror, a single thought echoed in her mind.
**This isn't over. Not by a long shot.**