Fake Destiny

Chapter8:those walls

Young Master’s POV

The day with Dummy was like a brief escape from the world I had built. I had allowed her to feel something close to freedom, and in return, I had seen a side of her I never expected. I wasn’t sure why I had done it, but I had kept my distance and allowed her to enjoy her time, though it never fully erased the darkness that lurked beneath the surface of this place.

Now, the freedom was over, and I knew the night would bring things back to the way they were. I could already feel the hunger rising within me. The pull of wanting her, the need to claim what was mine, had never been stronger. My body ached to be with her again, to feel her underneath me, to remind her of the control I had over her.

But before I could move toward her room, the door opened, and there she was, Sofia, my younger sister. Her presence immediately sent a chill down my spine. Sofia DeLuca was not like the others. She had always despised what I did, and she never hesitated to make her feelings known. Unlike me, Sofia had a sense of morality, of decency. She was soft, caring, and, above all, fiercely protective of anyone she saw as innocent or vulnerable. And Isabella, well, to Sofia, she was someone worth protecting. She hated what I did to her, hated that I used her as I did.

I knew Sofia well enough to know she was furious as soon as she saw me.

“You’re doing it again,” she said with that cold, disapproving look in her eyes. She could never hide her distaste when it came to me. It was almost like she saw straight through my exterior, and it bothered me more than I liked to admit.

I felt a sense of annoyance bubbling within me. She always judged me, always called me out, as if she had the right to act like she was better than I. But deep down, I knew I had promised her once, all those years ago, that I wouldn’t touch Isabella when she was around. It was one of the few promises I had made to Sofia, and I kept it, most of the time.

But tonight was different.

The need inside me had become a monster that couldn’t be ignored, no matter how much I hated myself for it. The hunger that had been building all day, since I saw her in the penthouse, was clawing at me. I wanted her. I couldn’t help it. And Sofia’s presence, as much as I hated to admit it, wasn’t enough to stop me.

I tried to convince myself that it was just one more night. Just one more time, and I’d be able to push past this.

But then Sofia spoke again, her voice softer this time, filled with that concern she always showed for others. "Please, don't do this. Don’t hurt her. She’s not like others. She’s just a girl."

Her words should have made me pause, should have stopped me in my tracks. But they didn’t. Instead, I only felt irritation flare. "She’s mine, Sofia," I replied sharply, my tone colder than I meant it to be. "And I don’t answer to you."

Sofia’s eyes hardened. "She’s not just yours, not the way you think. She’s a human being. You’re breaking her. I can see it in her eyes."

I looked away, refusing to meet her gaze. I didn’t want to hear her lecture. It made me feel weak, as though she could see through the walls I had carefully built around myself.

But I knew she was right.

For a moment, I considered walking away. Leaving Isabella in peace for tonight. But the temptation was too strong. I could feel her presence already pulling me back to her room, like a siren call.

Sofia's voice cut through the haze of my thoughts. "You promised me," she reminded me gently, her words laced with something softer, something that made me feel guilty.

I could feel my resolve weakening, and for the first time in a long while, I didn’t know what to do. I stood there, torn between the promise I had made to my sister and the overwhelming desire to take what I had trained myself to believe was mine.

I finally exhaled a breath, trying to steady my racing pulse. "I know," I muttered, almost to myself. "But I can’t help it tonight."

Her disappointment was palpable. She didn’t speak another word but turned and left, her footsteps echoing in the hallway as she walked away. The guilt gnawed at me, but the pull of my need for Isabella was stronger.

I entered her room quietly, the sound of my footsteps barely audible on the plush carpet. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her back straight, eyes cast downward. Her posture was a clear sign of submission, but I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she flinched whenever I stepped too close. She knew what was coming, just as much as I did.

I stood still for a moment, staring at her, almost as though I was waiting for something. A sign. A reason to stop. But none came. All I could feel was the overwhelming need to claim her again.

I moved toward her slowly, trying to reign in the urgency, the brutality that normally followed me when I took her. I wanted to keep the promise I had made to Sofia, to go easy on her tonight.

But it was harder than I thought.

My hands went to her shoulders first, gentle but firm. I didn’t want to hurt her tonight. I didn’t want to make her scream. I didn’t want to push her into the corner of the bed like I had before. Tonight, I wanted it to be different. For some reason, I didn’t want to break her even further than she already was.

I caressed her skin softly, my fingers tracing the curve of her neck. She shuddered under my touch, and I could see the fear in her eyes. But there was something else there, too. A sadness. A resignation. She knew she didn’t have a choice.

I leaned down, my lips brushing against her ear as I whispered, "Tonight, I’m going to make it easier for you. No screaming. No tears."

She didn’t respond. She never did. Her body was stiff, her breath shallow, but she didn’t pull away. It was the closest thing to acceptance I would get from her, and that thought twisted in my chest.

I undressed her slowly, carefully, keeping my touch light, as if trying to erase some of the damage I had done.

When I finally positioned myself above her, I could feel the tension in her body, the way she instinctively closed her eyes as if she could disappear into the bed beneath her. I resisted the urge to be rough, to push her the way I normally would. Instead, I moved with deliberate care, wanting to prove that I still had some semblance of control.

I didn’t know why I was doing this, why I was trying to be gentle. I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t stop.

I had no idea what this meant for me or for her, but tonight, I was going to keep the promise I made to Sofia. For once, I was going to be gentle with her, even if I hated every second of it.

Because, for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to hurt her right now.