Transmigrated into My Own Tragic Novel

Owned by Kane

Kane stepped in, each echoing click of his leather shoes against the gleaming marble floor slicing through the silence like a blade. The air tensed around him, his presence as suffocating as a storm rolling in from the horizon.

His eyes locked onto Evelyn—dark, sharp, and seething. Like a predator eyeing prey he intended to consume whole.

“Betty,” he spoke, his voice low and rasped, carrying a weight that made the air tremble. “Repeat what you just said. Out loud. For me.”

Evelyn’s heart clenched violently in her chest, nearly forgetting how to beat. She had prepared herself for this confrontation, but nothing could have steeled her for the real thing—Kane, in the flesh, burning with rage. The sheer force of him was overwhelming. She instinctively stepped back.

Theo moved at once, placing himself subtly yet firmly in front of her. His usual lazy charm returned to his tone, but there was steel underneath.

“Kane, you show up uninvited, break down my door, and demand answers? That’s your idea of etiquette?” He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Your man just said she doesn’t want to go back.”

Kane sneered, the sound cold and full of disdain. “My man?” He scoffed, stepping forward. “Theo, you’re mistaken. She’s not ‘my woman.’ She’s a gift. A disobedient one. And I’m here to take her back. To re-train her.”

Before Theo could react, Kane lunged forward, hand outstretched, reaching for Evelyn’s wrist.

Evelyn went pale, a choked sound catching in her throat. Go back with him? She knew what would happen—worse than anything the original story had ever written for Betty.

Her eyes flew to Theo, pleading. Help me.

Theo’s jaw tensed. Kane’s dominance was unbearable, his words ringing in his ears. He stepped forward again, this time his tone stripped of nonchalance.

“She said she doesn’t want to go,” Theo said coldly. “And last I checked, Kane, you don’t take back a gift once it’s given. That’s not how we play this game.”

Kane’s hand froze mid-air. He turned his head slowly toward Theo, eyes narrowing like a beast ready to pounce.

“You’re choosing her over me?” he asked, voice dangerously soft.

The room turned deadly quiet, tension snapping like pulled wire.

Theo’s smile remained, but his eyes sharpened. “Choosing? No. But you’re in my house, threatening to drag away a woman who just asked for my protection. That makes me look weak, Kane. And you know how rumors go.”

“Protection?” Kane echoed with a mocking laugh. His eyes cut back to Evelyn, cruel and calculating. “She’s good at groveling, I’ll give her that. But do you really think I care about your image, Theo? Or what others whisper behind closed doors?”

The two men stared each other down, the unspoken war thickening in the air.

Then, suddenly, Kane chuckled. A low, chilling sound. He shifted his attention back to Evelyn, his voice now calm—too calm.

“Fine,” he said. “I won’t make a scene. I’ll give you your pride.”

Evelyn almost let out a breath of relief—almost—until he added,

“But Betty, you choose.”

His tone was deceptively gentle, but the threat beneath it coiled like a snake ready to strike.

“Come back with me willingly… or,” he paused, letting the silence stretch until it cut like ice, “I make a call. And your dear mother—waiting in that VIP hospital suite—finds herself suddenly… without a room. Maybe without a doctor. Maybe without any hospital willing to take her in at all.”

Evelyn’s blood froze.

Her mother. The one weak spot—the only spot—Betty had in the original story. The chain Kane wrapped around her neck again and again. She had written this, so how could she have forgotten?

Theo’s eyes darkened as he realized the shift in Evelyn’s expression—The girl was breaking.He could fend off Kane’s arrogance, but not this. Not a family threat.

Kane watched Evelyn with the smug satisfaction of a hunter watching his prey give up the fight. He knew he’d won.

Evelyn’s mind raced. Go back, and she’d be trapped in Kane’s world again—brutal and inescapable. Stay, and her mother might die. The plot was unraveling. If she defied the original story too much, what else might change? Could it get worse?

She took a shaky breath, swallowing the fear clawing at her throat.

Then, slowly, she turned to Theo. Her voice was soft, barely a whisper, but steady.

“Thank you… Mr. Theo. But I don’t want to cause you trouble.”

Her steps were hesitant, as if each one might shatter her. She walked past Theo, every inch of her body screaming to stay, to hide. But she didn’t stop.

Theo stared at her back, mouth half open, words unspoken. But in the end, he said nothing.

He was never meant to be the hero.

Evelyn stopped in front of Kane, head bowed, not daring to meet his gaze.

“I’ll go,” she whispered. “Please… just don’t touch my mother.”

Kane’s lips curled into a satisfied smirk. This—this broken, obedient version of her—was what he knew. What he owned. She could run, she could hide, but in the end… she was his.

He grabbed her wrist, his grip brutal, bruising, pulling her close like a trophy regained.

“You should’ve behaved from the start,” he murmured in her ear, his breath cold against her skin.