The months that followed were a blur of extremes, a cycle of gilded cage and brutal correction. Victor’s love was a pendulum, swinging between adoration and absolute dominance.
When she was his "good girl," the world was beautiful. He showered her with diamonds that felt heavy against her skin, designer dresses that cost more than a doctor's yearly salary, and quiet dinners where he would feed her from his own plate, whispering how much he loved her. In those moments, she could almost forget the man behind the mask.
But the pendulum always swung back.
Any deviation from his rules—a late arrival, a tone of voice he deemed disrespectful, a question he didn't want answered—was met with swift, calculated punishment. The physical toll was undeniable. Bruises bloomed across her skin like dar
