character four
722 Words
The soundproofing of the ultra-luxury sedan was impeccable—so perfect that the only sounds remaining were the friction of expensive leather and the jagged, mismatched rhythm of their breathing.
Caspian sat languidly, half-submerged in the shadows of the backseat. He rested his face on one hand, his gaze averted from Daisy. Instead, he stared down at his own lowered lashes, mindlessly twirling the sapphire ring on his finger.
Daisy was huddled against the far car door, her face a ghastly, pallid green. She felt like a defective piece of merchandise being rushed to its buyer.
At the heart of Caspian’s private estate stood an isolated villa. A world of lead-gray and cold white, it felt like a vacuum sealed away from reality.
The moonlight was frigid, streaming through the massive fan-shaped floor-to-ceiling windows and splashing across the Calacatta marble floor. The air was a heavy blend of aged leather, ebony oud, and the earthy musk of black truffles.
Caspian strode directly toward a set of forest-green silk sofas. He tossed his car keys onto the obsidian tray in the foyer with a careless flick.
Clang—
The sound echoed sharply through the cavernous living room.
"What are you standing there for?"
As the moonlight shifted, the cornflower blue sapphire on his finger refracted a deep, mesmerizing fire. Daisy gripped the hem of her clothes. Amidst this pinnacle of opulence, she felt like a filthy rag that had no business being there.
"Come here," Caspian said, finally lifting his eyes. His pupils held a weary cynicism, tinged with a cruel streak of playfulness.
Daisy kept her head low, her bare feet treading upon the icy, deep-pile carpet. Each step felt like a march toward an unknown judgment. She came to a halt three paces from his knees.
"Take it off."
His tone was flat, as if he were merely discussing tomorrow’s weather.
Daisy’s head snapped up, her eyes crashing into his—eyes that were cold to the point of extinction. "What did you say?"
"I said—" Caspian tilted his head. His slender fingers slid slowly along the edge of the obsidian tray, making a grating sound that set her teeth on edge. "Take off that cheap green rag you’re wearing."
He moved with an elegant grace, as if he were appreciating a silent play.
Daisy’s nails nearly pierced her palms. That matcha-colored cardigan was her final line of defense. "Caspian... do you really have to humiliate me like this?"
"Humiliate?" Caspian let out a low, breathy laugh as he slowly straightened his posture. The scent of cold cedar and a hint of tobacco instantly invaded Daisy’s lungs. He reached out, his thumb tracing the pale contour of her cheek with a rough, calloused touch.
"Daisy, the moment you accepted that stack of cash, you lost your ticket to the word 'humiliation.'"
He reached into a nearby Hermès shopping bag and dumped out a black velvet nightgown, flinging it onto her face.
"Put it on. Right here."
The silk was top-tier—cold, supple, and sliding over her skin like a slick, venomous snake.
Daisy froze, her face draining of all color. "Caspian... you said this was just revenge."
"This is revenge, Daisy." He nonchalantly picked up an opened bottle of Petrus and took a shallow sip directly from the neck.
A drop of the dark, violet-red liquid escaped the corner of his mouth, dripping onto the collar of his pristine white shirt like a blooming Spider Lily.
"I want to watch you tear apart that layer of hypocritical pride with your own hands and put on the shackles I’ve given you," he said, his voice dropping to a slow crawl. "Three years ago, you left so cleanly for the sake of money. Now, I’m giving you the best of everything. You should be... flattered."
Daisy closed her eyes, her breath trembling. Her hands shook as she undid the first button of her cardigan.
Caspian leaned back in his languid pose, slowly swirling the half-glass of red wine. The dark liquid clung to the crystal walls in thick, viscous 'legs' that refused to fall.
It was a silent, agonizing execution.
- Writer
