Chapter 7

How dare he kiss me?

My mind was perfectly clear now. Julian was completely shameless, willing to defy all boundaries to claim me. I wasn't some piece of property to be bought and sold.

I slapped him hard across the face.

His head snapped to the side, half his face hidden in the shadows. I couldn't see his exact expression, but the atmosphere around him turned grim.

Trembling, I fled to my room, grabbed my plush puppy, and sat on the bed, rocking it back and forth.

"Why does everyone want to hurt me?" I whispered. "What am I supposed to do?"

The moonlight spilled through the window, catching the glassy eyes of the stuffed toy. Staring into them, I found my answer.

Later, driven by a parched throat, I crept downstairs for a glass of water. A strange, muffled sound drifted from Julian's room. The door was left slightly ajar.

A morbid curiosity pulled me closer. Peering through the narrow gap, I saw Julian. He was shirtless, his lean waist moving in a rhythmic, deliberate motion. His low gasps were a disturbing mix of pain and pleasure.

"Clara... my sweet Clara..."

He was pleasuring himself, murmuring my name.

My mind reeled in disgust. A deep, instinctual panic broke free inside me, and I ran.

The next day, Rowan appeared at the mansion. I rushed downstairs to meet him, and he took my hand with a warm smile, suggesting we go into town to catch a new movie.

By the time we reached the city center, snow had begun to fall—the first snow of the season. I reached out, watching a delicate flake melt instantly against the warmth of my palm.

Rowan stood beside me, tall and elegant in a tailored camel coat. The falling snow lightly dusted his hair and eyebrows, lending his handsome features a look of quiet, poetic sorrow.

Acting purely on impulse, I leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"For the movie," I told him.

He touched the spot where my lips had lingered, a faint blush spreading across his face like a sunset. I giggled and skipped ahead, feeling a rare moment of lightness.

But hidden in the nearby shadows, Julian watched us. His fists were clenched tight, his eyes bloodshot with rage.

The snow thickened as the evening wore on. Back at the house, a deep unease began to gnaw at me. I could feel that something terrible was coming.

*Bang!*

The door flew open, and Julian burst into my room, reeking of cheap liquor. I immediately backed toward the window, my guard up.

He registered my fear, a sudden flash of pain cutting through the drunken haze in his eyes. He advanced on me, his voice thick with accusation. "Clara, do you even have a heart?"

"You're completely shameless, just throwing yourself at any man who looks your way."

I stared at him coldly. "You're drunk, Julian."

"Drunk? I sent you to that hospital for three years, and you still haven't learned your lesson!" he shouted. "Don't you know how much I hate seeing you get close to other guys? If anyone can have you, why not me?"

He let out a harsh laugh, his bloodshot eyes and bitter smile twisted into something ugly by the alcohol.

Julian, in pain? It was a ridiculous thought. The man thrived on the suffering of others.

"Your love is disgusting," I spat, shoving him away.

My words snapped whatever thin thread of control he had left. He lunged, grabbing my arms and pinning them down as he pressed his hot, heavy body against mine. His kisses fell in a violent, desperate storm.

A wave of pure nausea surged through me. Without thinking, I brought my knee up hard into his groin.

He let out a sharp groan of pain, and I wrenched myself free.

I spun around and flung open the window. The freezing wind roared into the room, sending the curtains billowing wildly around me. Outside, the falling snow glowed faintly against the inky blackness of the night.

I met his panicked eyes, my decision resolute. "Julian, your obsession sickens me. I would rather die than be with you."

And then, I leapt.

I landed in the snow, staring up at the starless sky.

There was no light left.

Only the dark, spreading waves of blood pooling quietly beneath me.