Violet's first reaction was to scramble off the floor, hastily dusting herself off as the looming figure of Lord Cain moved toward her. Her heart pounded, and a flicker of panic crossed her face as she noticed the sudden chill in the air, the oppressive cold intensifying with each step he took. By the time he stood directly in front of her, it felt like the room itself had frozen solid.
She opened her mouth, bowing her head and ready to unleash a torrent of apologies for not returning to his office when she should have. But before she could utter a word, Cain extended his hand and, with startling precision, caught the neck of the young man who had shoved her moments earlier.
It all happened so fast that Violet barely registered the scene. One moment, the boy was standing smugly; the next, he was dangling in the air, his legs kicking helplessly as Cain's fingers tightened around his throat.
The oppressive chill in the air grew suffocating, the pervasive weight of Cain's presence making everyone in the hall freeze. Violet stood rooted to the spot, her breaths shallow as her wide eyes flicked to the boy, now groaning and clawing at Cain's hand in a desperate bid for air.
Even Rane, who had always carried himself with sly confidence, looked utterly petrified. His usual smirk vanished, replaced by a pale, slack-jawed expression. He stood motionless, his gaze fixed on his struggling companion, who could do nothing but gasp and writhe in Cain's unyielding grip.
Cain's face remained calm, eerily devoid of emotion as he tightened his hold. Violet's fingers curled into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she instinctively lowered her gaze, unable to watch what she knew was coming. But she couldn't block out the sound—the unmistakable, sickening crack of a neck snapping, sharp and final.
Her breath hitched as the boy's body crumpled to the floor with a lifeless thud, the sound echoing in the now-silent hall. No one dared to move, let alone speak. One by one, the others began retreating, backing away slowly as though afraid any sudden motion might draw Cain's attention.
All except Violet. She remained where she stood, trembling as she kept her gaze fixed firmly on the ground. Her legs felt like lead, refusing to obey her silent plea to move, to flee. She was too aware of her own vulnerability, too aware of the suffocating power emanating from the man before her.
But Cain didn't spare her a glance. Without a word, he turned on his heel and strode out of the hall, his long coat billowing behind him.
Violet let out a shaky breath and hurried after him, her head still bowed as she trailed in his wake. Fear gripped her more tightly than ever, her movements mechanical as she focused on keeping up with his brisk pace. He ignored her completely, his silence more unnerving than any reprimand.
By the time they reached the topmost floor and entered his private wing, her nerves were frayed to the point of snapping. She closed the heavy door behind her as quietly as possible, her movements cautious. Cain walked to his desk, his cold expression unchanged as he took his seat.
The memory of his hand crushing the boy's neck replayed in her mind, vivid and inescapable. Before she realized what she was doing, Violet dropped to her knees, her voice trembling as she began to plead.
"I—I just needed a bath! I was wrong!" she stammered, her words tumbling over each other in her desperation. "I won't ever—"
"Did I not make myself clear about how much I despise apologies?" Cain interrupted sharply, his voice like a blade cutting through her words.
Violet snapped her mouth shut, fear overtaking her. She scrambled to her feet, nodding frantically to show her understanding. Her heart raced as his piercing gaze lingered on her, his cold eyes scanning her with unsettling intensity.
When he finally spoke again, his words caught her off guard. "A room has been prepared for you through that door," he said, gesturing to a side door she hadn't noticed before. "You'll use it from now on."
"Yes, Lord Cain," she responded instantly, too frightened to question him.
"You went to the hall to eat?" he asked, though the plates of food on the trolley in the center of the room suggested he already knew the answer. "Food will be brought to you from now on," he added.
Violet nodded again, relief flickering in her chest. At least she wouldn't have to face Rane in the hall anymore. She kept her thoughts to herself, but the idea of distancing herself from that lecherous creep was a small comfort. Still… I need to figure out a way to keep him quiet, she thought grimly.
Cain rose from his chair and moved toward her, his tall frame towering over her until he was close enough for her to catch the faint, musky scent clinging to him. The smell was oddly intoxicating, and Violet cursed her own brain for the treacherous thought that followed—that leaning in closer might be comforting.
"If you leave for more than thirty minutes without my permission," Cain said, his voice low and deadly, "I will kill you."
Violet's stomach twisted as she nodded fervently. His tone held no hint of exaggeration; he meant every word.
"I won't, Lord Cain," she promised, her voice barely above a whisper.
But then he raised his hand, and before she could react, his fingers lightly curled around her neck.
Her breath caught, her thoughts scattering as she focused on the warmth of his touch—a warmth that sharply contrasted the memory of the icy grip he'd used to end another's life only minutes earlier. There was no force behind his hold, but the mere placement of his hand was enough to send waves of panic coursing through her.
"You say that," Cain murmured, his tone deceptively soft, "but why don't I believe you?"
His grip remained featherlight, yet the weight of his gaze was unbearable. Violet found herself trapped, unable to look away from the chilling intensity of his eyes.
"Unless you get my permission," he continued, almost to himself, "if you leave my side, I'll make you beg for death instead. You're still… somewhat useful."
With that, he released her and returned to his desk, leaving Violet standing frozen in place. Her hands trembled as she touched her neck, half expecting to find bruises where his fingers had rested.
She felt like a cat who'd just used up several of its nine lives. But before she could catch her breath, Cain ordered her back to her assignment.
Internally groaning, Violet dragged herself toward her dreaded task. "Clean such a high ceiling with a toothbrush? Who even comes up with that?" she thought bitterly, resigned to her fate. By the time she finished, she was certain she'd be wishing for death herself.