Author’s POV
Paul slammed his office door so hard it echoed down the empty hallway. The harsh fluorescent lights seemed to add to his bad mood. He stormed out towards the parking lot, each angry step a sign of his frustration. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows as he walked, his briefcase feeling much heavier than usual. Every step felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. He fumbled with his keys, the disappointment from the meeting clinging to him like a bad smell.
Finally, he reached his car – a fancy, dark gray Bentley parked arrogantly close to the curb. The Bentley logo gleamed in the afternoon sun, usually a symbol of his wealth and success. Today, however, it just seemed to mock him. The fact that his important business proposal had been rejected stung, but Paul was determined not to let anyone see he was upset.
His driver, Mr. Lim, was already waiting for him. Paul tossed him the keys and climbed into the soft leather seat of the car. The car seemed to sigh softly, almost as if sympathizing with him. He brushed a speck of dust off the shiny wooden dashboard, a silent promise to himself to stay calm. He wasn't some new guy who would fall apart over one little setback.
He tapped the touchscreen and classical music filled the car – a calming contrast to the anger boiling inside him. As the car pulled out of the parking lot, the powerful engine roared to life, a sound that usually matched his confidence. Today, though, it sounded forced, like he was trying too hard to seem confident when he wasn't.
He glanced in the rearview mirror. His hair, normally perfectly styled, looked a little messy. For a moment, he looked vulnerable, but then a determined look crossed his face. He wouldn't let this one defeat get him down. He was Paul Parker, and he always came back stronger after a setback. He gripped the steering wheel, the cool leather calming him down a bit. This wasn't the end. He might have lost this battle, but the war was far from over.
However, what Paul didn't know was that this was just the beginning of a downward spiral for him. His rejection might have been a small bump in the road, but it would soon lead to much bigger problems.
Paul’s POV
I stepped inside, and the calming scent of lavender and chamomile washed over me. The living room felt cozy, bathed in the warm glow of a lamp. Soft jazz music played in the background, creating a relaxing atmosphere. The giant mansion loomed outside, a symbol of all my hard work. It spoke of the wealth I had accumulated, a monument to my success and perhaps even my ruthless side. Its gothic towers reached towards the gloomy sky, mirroring my mood a little. Yet, as I walked further in, the grand entrance hall felt cold and empty. It was decorated with expensive antiques and a giant crystal chandelier that sparkled but offered no warmth. The whole place felt more like a fancy mansion than a home.
Servants lined up welcoming me, a cold sense of satisfaction covered me, the sense of power and wealth.
“Where is she? Doesn't she know that she should be present here to welcome her husband home? ”
“She is in the library sir”, whispered one of the maids.
Author’s POV
Paul marched towards the library. The words of his colleagues from the meeting, laced with condescension and mockery, still echoed in his ears: "Too ambitious," "out of touch with the market," "too Paul Parker."
Paul shoved open the heavy front door with a loud bang. "Anna!" he bellowed, his voice bouncing off the shiny marble floors. It was harsh and angry, a temper that had nothing to do with the business meeting he just had and everything to do with his simmering discontent.
There she was, Anna, standing framed by the ornate railing that overlooked the library from the second floor. Even from afar, Paul could see her hands shaking. Her expensive designer dress, though perfectly tailored, couldn't hide the fear that flickered in her eyes. A cruel smile played on his lips, a flicker of twisted satisfaction.
He sauntered towards her slowly, his steps heavy. Reaching the stairs, he stretched out his arms and pulled her into a tight hug. Anna, however, clenched her fists in silent protest, her whole body stiff with displeasure at his touch.
The hug was a performance, a public display of affection meant for anyone who might be watching. In reality, it was a power play, a way for Paul to remind Anna of who was in control. He held her a beat too long, his grip firm enough to be uncomfortable. When he finally released her, he kept his eyes locked on hers, searching for any sign of defiance.
Anna forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Welcome home, Paul," she said, her voice strained. The scent of his cologne, usually pleasant, now felt suffocating.
"There you are, my love," Paul drawled, his voice dripping with a condescension that made her flinch. "So," he continued, circling her like a predator, "How did you spend your day? Did it go well? I presume that staying back at home itself without causing me many headaches with your charity trusts.”
Anna bristled, a flicker of defiance momentarily chasing away the fear. "My day was uneventful, unlike yours, I presume," she replied, her voice surprisingly steady.
Paul leaned closer, a cruel amusement flickering in his eyes. "Looks like the empire's not quite as vast as I'd planned today, my dear." Anna's usual fake happiness almost disappeared for a second. Her perfectly painted nails shook slightly, and her eyes, normally bright and cheerful, showed a surprising glimpse of fear. This both surprised and angered Paul.
"Come on," he growled, motioning towards a fancy red room he'd specifically designed. He turned, and his large shoulder brushed against hers on purpose, a way to remind her who was in charge. As they walked, the strong smell of lilies filled the air. The sweetness was overwhelming and made the bitterness of losing the board meeting even worse for Paul. He might have had a bad day at work, but tonight, he was determined to show her who was the boss.
The red room wasn't just any room; it was designed to be intimidating for Anna. The furniture was heavy and dark, and the red walls seemed to close in on you. There were even some sharp corners on the tables that you could easily bump into. It wasn't exactly a place where you'd want to relax.
Anna knew exactly what this meant. This room was Paul's way of punishing her, even though she hadn't done anything wrong. She wasn't even sure why he was so mad, but she knew better than to argue. She just followed him silently, her heart pounding in her chest.
Paul shut the door behind them with a loud bang, making Anna jump. The room suddenly felt even smaller and more closed-in. He turned to face her, his face cold and hard.
"What was that look you gave me downstairs?" he demanded, his voice icy.
Anna tried to think of what he was talking about. She hadn't meant to give him any kind of look. "I... I don't know what you mean," she stammered, her voice barely a whisper.
"Don't play dumb with me, Anna," he snapped. "That look of defiance. Who do you think you are?"
Anna flinched at his harsh tone. She wasn't trying to be defiant; she was just scared. But she wouldn't let him see that. Taking a deep breath, she tried to stand a little taller.
"I'm your wife, Paul," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "But I'm also a person."
Paul stared at her for a moment, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Then, he let out a cold laugh.
"A person, huh?" he scoffed. "You forget your place, Anna. In this house, you do what I say. And right now, I say you kneel."
Anna's face flushed with anger, but she did what he said. She knelt on the cold, hard floor, the tears stinging her eyes. She hated him. She hated this life. But what could she do? She was trapped.
Her screams, tears, and pain remained within the four walls of the rooms. With wounds decorating her face and body, she was tired, tired of forgiving him, sacrificing her life, and enduring the pain that she never deserved. While his eyes gleamed with a cold satisfaction that had nothing to do with love and everything to do with power, Anna’s eyes burned with the desire to come out of hell, to punish the people who made her life as such, and punish the people who made her life hell. But she was powerless.
Paul’s POV
I messed up. Big time. I just hurt her, and all I could think about was the anger boiling inside me, the burning need for something… more. I didn't stop to think, didn't care about what might happen later. Seeing her break down, begging for mercy, twisted something inside me. It gave me a twisted sense of power, a sick satisfaction that now leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.
But the highs faded, replaced by a cold dread. This isn't the first time I've crossed a line, and the weight of it all is crushing. Now I'm here, shoved into this room that reeks of expensive cigars and something metallic, something sharp that makes my stomach churn. Fear chills me. This guy I'm facing, he's powerful, important – you can smell it in the air. I know I've done something terrible, something I can't take back. This time, the consequences might be more than I can handle.
"S-sir, with all due respect…"
Before I could apologize, his voice, a low rumble, filled the room. "Silence!"
“You didn’t have any specific reason to lay your hands on her, Did you?” His question hung heavy, laced with disappointment. Shame burned in my cheeks, hotter than the slap that landed on my face mere moments later.
“I don’t want to see her suffering and you know that well.”
I couldn’t even defend myself, well I had nothing to defend too. All I did was as per his saying and today I crossed the limits once again.
The next thing I knew, his hand shot out, delivering a stinging slap to the other side of my face.
“Violence is for enemies, Paul," he said, his voice low but laced with a dangerous edge. "Not for family. But make no mistake, this is a warning. Touch her again, and you’ll be done. Dismissed."
As I walked down the opulent hallway, I knew this wasn't over. Today I might have been saved from his immediate rage, but not always. The thing I can’t figure out is why she. Why does he treasure her? Is he kind of obsessed with it or what? Well, I just had a narrow escape though.
Tonight's slap was just the beginning, and the echo of it resonated not just on my cheek, but in the icy fear that clenched my heart.
Author’s POV
Back in the mansion
Agnes stood in front of the massive oak door of the Red Room in the mansion. The crimson walls seemed to glow with an evil light, making her uneasy. Earlier, muffled cries and harsh orders had leaked from the room, but now there was only an unsettling silence. This sudden quiet worried Agnes even more than the earlier sounds.
To be continued...
Write a comment ...