If the mansion was a prison, then its rules were the chains that bound me. And every time I tried to push against those chains, they tightened—cutting deeper, leaving marks I couldn't erase.
I should have learned my lesson after the last time. But something inside me refused to submit, even when I knew better.
That defiance came at a cost.
Nico's Control
It started when I accidentally broke one of their unspoken rules. I hadn't meant to—didn't even realize it was a rule until it was too late.
I'd found an old book in the library, something worn and faded, its spine barely holding together. It looked forgotten, like no one had touched it in years. So I brought it back to my room, thinking it might be safe there—a small piece of something that felt like mine.
But it wasn't mine. It was Nico's.
I didn't know how he found out, but I felt the weight of his fury long before I saw him. He stormed into my room without knocking, his emerald-green eyes blazing with a rare intensity.
"Where is it?" he demanded.
I froze, the book clutched in my hands. "I—I didn't know it was yours—"
"Where. Is. It?" Nico repeated, his voice dropping lower.
I held it out to him, my fingers trembling. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"
Nico snatched the book from my hands, his movements sharp and deliberate. For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze flicking between me and the book as if he were deciding what to do next.
Then he moved.
The slap came so fast I didn't even see it coming. His palm connected with my cheek, sharp and stinging, sending me stumbling back into the wall.
"You don't touch what isn't yours," he said, his voice calm but laced with steel.
I pressed a hand to my cheek, my skin burning, my eyes filling with tears I refused to let fall.
"I didn't know," I whispered, my voice trembling.
"You should have asked," Nico replied coldly. He stepped closer, towering over me, his presence suffocating. "Do you think you can just take whatever you want in this house?"
"I wasn't trying to—"
He grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Stop talking," he said quietly, his grip tightening just enough to make me flinch. "Do you understand me?"
"Yes," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Nico released me abruptly, stepping back as if the sight of me disgusted him. He turned and walked out, the door slamming shut behind him, leaving me trembling and alone.
Adrian's Game
The second blow came later, when Adrian found me in the garden.
I was still reeling from what had happened with Nico, my cheek tender where his hand had struck me. I needed air—needed to escape the suffocating weight of the mansion, if only for a little while.
But peace was never an option here.
"Skipping out on us again?" Adrian's voice came from behind me, smooth and mocking.
I turned to see him leaning against a tree, his storm-gray eyes glinting with amusement.
"I just needed some space," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
Adrian pushed off the tree and strolled toward me, his smirk widening. "Space, huh? Funny, I don't remember giving you permission to leave."
"I didn't think I needed permission," I shot back, my frustration bubbling to the surface.
Adrian's grin froze, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "Careful, sweetheart. You're starting to sound ungrateful."
"I didn't ask to be here," I said, my voice rising. "I didn't ask for any of this!"
Adrian was on me in an instant, his hand gripping my arm hard enough to bruise as he yanked me closer.
"Do you think we wanted this?" he snarled, his face inches from mine. "Do you think we wanted to give up everything because of you?"
"Let me go," I said, struggling against his grip.
Adrian's smirk returned, sharp and cruel. "What are you going to do? Run? Scream?"
Before I could respond, his free hand grabbed my jaw, tilting my face up so I couldn't look away. His grip wasn't gentle, his fingers pressing into my skin with enough force to make me wince.
"You need to learn your place," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "And I think it's about time someone taught you."
I didn't see the slap coming. It wasn't as sharp as Nico's—Adrian wasn't trying to make a point. He was trying to make me feel it.
The impact sent me stumbling back, my vision blurring as I clutched my cheek. Adrian stood over me, his storm-gray eyes cold and unrelenting.
"You're lucky I don't do worse," he said, his voice soft but menacing. "Get back inside before I change my mind."
The Aftermath
I locked myself in my room that night, my body trembling, my mind racing. My cheeks were swollen, my wrists bruised, and my soul felt like it had been shattered into a thousand pieces.
They were breaking me. Slowly, methodically, with every word, every touch, every slap.
But as I sat in front of the mirror, staring at the girl who looked back at me, I felt something shift.
This wasn't who I was. This wasn't who I would become.
I touched the marks on my skin, my fingers trembling.
They think they've won.
I clenched my fists, my resolve hardening.
They're wrong.