Chapter 3: Possession
1041 Words
Daniel’s POV
She said it with a steady tone, with eyes carved from ashes:
"I will marry you."
Can you imagine?
My little one, standing in the middle of chaos, her tears burning in her eyes, offering me what she thought was a sacrifice.
She believed she was giving me something...
But she forgot one thing:
She’s mine.
Mine since the day her tiny feet touched this earth.
Since fate threw her in my path and handed her to me as a treasure stolen from a lost paradise.
She thinks marriage is a promise?
A decision?
Oh, my poor girl...
I do not worship promises.
I worship possession.
And Emma… was never just a person to me.
She was a being woven out of my breath.
She was my sealed destiny, ever since the first moment I saw her stumbling in her childhood dress, laughing.
I don’t love her.
I don’t adore her.
I burn for her.
---
Her tears…
God, those tears almost killed me.
She tried to hide the trembling in her hands, but her whole body shook as if her soul was burning from the inside out.
If I had known she would come today…
Maybe I would’ve cleaned her father’s blood off my shoes before I forced him to kneel among his dead guards.
But I didn’t know.
And now… the plan has changed.
---
Alexandra.
The demoness wrapped in Italian dresses and perfumed lies.
I always hated her.
She was the only barrier between me and my kitten.
But excuse me?
She’s the one who pushed Emma away…
From me.
She had watched me as a child—watched the way I looked at Emma as if I wanted to lock her inside a music box and throw the key into hell.
She saw…
She saw that my eyes held nothing innocent.
She saw I didn’t want a friend, nor a lover...
But a prisoner.
A prisoner of gold.
And her jailer… a heart that knows no mercy.
---
And then there was Josh.
The spoiled boy of Moscow.
A child playing with hearts the way he plays with frost.
He was supposed to be her “fiancé”…
A deal between families.
Alexandra wanted a new puppet to pull with her strings.
She wanted to sell Emma, and she put a “Special Offer” sign on her.
But Josh?
He was just another male in a herd of fools.
Pathetic… treacherous… a disgrace who doesn’t even know the taste of loyalty.
And me?
I don’t share.
I don’t split desire.
What I want—I own.
And I will burn the world with everyone in it if anyone dares touch what’s mine.
---
She stood before me, her body trembling, her tears streaming down her cheeks, and yet… she didn’t run.
She was still here.
Near me.
Beneath me.
Inside my obsession.
And that alone…
Was enough.
---
Hours passed after she collapsed crying over her father’s body, begging for help, screaming his name as if life itself had ended at his pulse.
I didn’t go to her.
I stood there—like a god watching his own ruin.
As if I was savoring the wound I had carved.
I did not regret it.
But I felt… the weight.
Not pity.
Something else.
Obsession… tainted with rage.
---
The mansion returned to its deceiving silence.
The silence that comes right after a storm, tricking you into believing it’s over, while the truth is—the hurricane hasn’t even begun.
Suddenly, the door opened.
My mother.
My father.
My older brother.
Their faces frozen in shock.
My mother’s eyes went straight to my uncle…
That wreck of a man, beaten, bruised, wrapped in b****y bandages—by my hand.
She saw her nephew.
But I saw a traitor who tried to sell what belonged to me.
And then came the slap.
A warm, sharp sting—pathetic, almost laughable.
— “How could you do this to your uncle, Daniel?!”
I answered, my voice coated in hellfire:
— “Because he tried to steal Emma.”
She looked at me, furious, shouting:
— “Emma is not something you can own!”
I smiled. The smile of a man who’s forgotten what loss means.
— “But she is, Mother. She’s the only thing no one else can touch. She is my toy… my kingdom… my eternal obsession.”
She screamed at me, but I didn’t hear her.
She went to him—to the traitor—crying, apologizing for what my hands had done.
But me?
I searched for my father’s gaze.
He was angry, yes…
But he understood.
The only one who sees how my soul burns for her.
The only one who knows that if I ever lose her, I’ll blow this world apart and rebuild it over the corpses of those who tried to take her away from me.
---
My father and brother approached.
— “Why, Daniel? He hadn’t even agreed yet!”
— “It doesn’t matter. He was going to sell her, Father. To hand her to the Bratva, as a gift for Josh’s family. All planned by Alexandra.”
I saw the flames dance behind his eyes.
Then he said, surprisingly calm:
— “I’ll take Emma with me.”
But a voice cut through the air:
— “You won’t.”
My brother.
Staring at him with defiance unworthy of our blood.
I looked at him. Long. Cold. b****y.
— “You’ve interfered too much, brother. Your next step might be over a corpse… maybe many corpses.”
He fell silent.
Then turned and left.
---
I looked at Miguel.
My twin.
Not carrying my madness, but wise enough to stay silent.
I nodded.
He left, and returned minutes later.
He nodded back.
The task was done.
I stepped toward the door, glancing at her from a distance.
Collapsed beside her father, clutching his hand, weeping.
She didn’t see me…
But I was there.
Writing the ending with my own hands.
And it was time to leave.
But she will return to me.
Whether by her will… or against it.
Because simply put…
I am the hell she was written to burn in.
- Writer
