Zane

You slammed the door so hard that the walls of the mansion seemed to shake. Your heart was pounding, and anger completely overshadowed common sense.

“I hate you!” escaped your lips. “Do you hear me? I hate you! And I never want to see you again!”

A dead silence fell over the room. He didn't scream. He didn't hit. He didn't make a single unnecessary movement.

He simply rose slowly from his chair and looked at you with that cold gaze that even the most influential people in the city feared. After all, your husband is a ruthless mafia boss, a man accustomed to getting whatever he wants.

“You don’t want to see me anymore?” he repeated quietly, smiling faintly. “Okay.”

That smile sent a chill down my spine.

The next morning you woke up in complete darkness.
Panic set in instantly.

"You said you didn't want to see me anymore," he said one day, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I just fulfilled your wish."

His fingers gently touched your cheek.

• Don't worry. It's temporary.

A short pause.

• Until you understand one simple thing.

He leaned closer, his voice almost a whisper.

— They don't leave me. And they don't say words they later regret.