MELISA

I didn't want to be here. Not anymore. I needed to escape, and I meant it this time. I didn't care how many times I had to try. If I died running, then so be it. At least I'd die trying to live. Not trapped here with him. But after that night... something about it stuck with me. The worst part? My body had responded. I hated that. I hated that he made me feel something when everything in me screamed to run. Who is this man behind the mask? Why does he have so much control over me?

"Good morning, Melisa."

I jumped. His voice came from the doorway calm, deep, steady. I turned quickly and there he was. Tall, dressed in a black shirt and gray pants, holding a tray of food. Still wearing that damn mask. It was always the mask.

He stepped inside like he belonged there. Like I was his.

"Thought I'd make you breakfast," he said. "Waffles - your favorite."

I said nothing.

"How's my girl sleeping?" he asked, walking over with slow, deliberate steps.

I turned my head away, avoiding his gaze. His eyes were always too much.

Too intense.

Too... knowing.

"It was fine," I said, barely above a whisper.

I looked at the tray - crispy golden waffles, syrup on the side, and fresh strawberries cut into little hearts. Sebastian never made waffles. He didn't even know how.

That was the first red flag of the day.

Where is Sebastian?

I needed to find out. I needed a plan. But how do I convince this man to let me close enough to figure it out?

"You don't seem too excited about your breakfast," he said, pausing beside the bed. "Something wrong?"

"No, not at all. I'm just thinking."

He crouched slightly, trying to catch my eyes. "Thinking about what?"

I kept my voice neutral. "Just... random things."

"Come on, little one," he said, tone soft but unsettling. "Tell me."

"Sebastian... where is he?" I asked again, my voice firmer this time. "I'm worried. He's my friend." He didn't answer right away. Instead, he finished setting the tray on the table, calmly reaching for the fork and knife.

When he finally spoke, his tone was composed, but there was something underneath it - something dangerous. "He's fine, Melisa. I sent him away from this place. I knew the moment he had a chance, he'd try to take you from me."

"You're insane," I said quietly, backing slightly against the headboard. "I don't even know your name." He looked at me, his hands still busy cutting the waffles into neat bites. "Do you want to know my name?"

I hesitated, then nodded. It was strange how I felt like a child at that moment - helpless, curious, unsure. And then he did something even stranger. He lifted a piece of waffle toward my mouth. I opened it without thinking, letting him feed me. Like a girl trusting a father. Like prey too tired to run. He watched me chew, and then spoke in a voice so calm it chilled me.

"My name is Sebastian Vale." I froze, then let out a small laugh. A giggle, really. It slipped out before I could stop it.

"What's funny?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

I tried to brush it off. "It's just... there's two Sebastians here, apparently. One is soft and kind. The gentleman."

"And me?" His tone shifted. No longer calm. I felt it - the tension rise, his energy changing in an instant.

"What about me, Melisa?" he asked again, his voice deeper now. Seriously. Possessive. "Who am I to you?"

The air thickened. I swallowed hard. I knew that voice. That tone. He was getting close to the edge again. One wrong word and the calm would be gone. Just like before. I lowered my gaze. My heart beat a little faster.

"I don't know yet," I whispered. But the truth was, I did. He was the storm. The obsession. The man who wouldn't let me go. And something told me... this was only the beginning.

"Good," he said, his voice low and full of certainty. "Now I am Vale. And soon, you'll be my Mrs. Vale - my Melisa Vale." I narrowed my eyes at him, defiant even through the fear twisting in my chest.

"That's your last name, Sebastian. Not mine." He leaned in closer, a dark smile playing on his lips behind the mask. His presence alone made it harder to breathe.

"Then watch me make it happen, little one," he whispered. "You'll see. Whether you want it or not... it's already written." This man is absolutely insane.

And the scariest part? He believes every word he says.

I don't know how I'm supposed to handle the worst of him - let alone the best. If this is his best, I'm terrified to see what his worst looks like. Every moment I'm with him feels like walking a tightrope over fire. One wrong step, one wrong word, and I'm not sure I'd survive it. But I can't fall apart now. I need to keep calm. I need to play along. Because if I don't... I'll never get out of here alive. I glanced around the garden's corner, my eyes landing on someone new - or at least, someone I hadn't seen before. A man in a cardigan and hat was quietly working among the roses, planting with practiced care. It looked peaceful... different. For once, he wasn't here. Sebastian wasn't hovering over me, watching my every move like I'd vanish the moment he blinked. I walked toward the gardener, cautiously hopeful. "Hi. Are you new here?" He looked up briefly, then returned to his work. "No, Miss. I've been here five years now. I work for Master Sebastian."

"Oh." I tried to smile. "I'm Melisa. Nice to meet you." I held out my hand, but he didn't take it. He just kept pressing seeds into the soil, like I wasn't even there. A quiet embarrassment crept over me. But I wasn't just here to make small talk. I needed information. He might know who the man behind the mask really is. "You must be Miss Melisa," he said after a long pause. I nodded, staying beside him as he moved to gather more seeds and tools.

"I shouldn't be speaking with you," he added in a low voice. "Master would be furious."

"Why? We're just talking. I just want a friend. This place is... lonely." The man stopped. His hands tensed over a pot of soil.

"If you have a chance to stay away... then stay away, Miss Melisa." I blinked. "What do you mean?" His eyes darted toward me - nervous, anxious, almost regretful.

"Master Sebastian isn't who you think. He's not normal. He kills people. You don't want to be part of this. If you still have the chance to escape, do it. Run." The words hit me like ice water down my spine. I stepped back, breath catching, and without another word, turned and ran. I bolted back to my room, slammed the door shut, and collapsed onto the bed. My hands trembled as I wiped at my tears. Was it true? Was everything he said to me a lie?

What's wrong with me?

What's wrong with me?

"Melisa." His voice. Calm. Controlled. From the doorway. I spun around, heart hammering. He stepped inside slowly, like a predator playing with his prey.

"Why are you crying, little one?" He came closer. I stumbled back, grabbing the nearest thing I could find - a broken shard of wood from the nightstand.

"Stay away from me!" I screamed, holding it out between us. "Don't come any closer or I'll kill you - I swear I'll stab you!" My voice cracked. I had never hurt anyone in my life. I didn't know if I could. He stopped, not out of fear, but amusement. He smiled behind the mask. "Oh, Melisa," he cooed. "Do you really think that little splinter could stop me?" He tilted his head. "Come on, my girl. Don't be so quick to try and kill your protector." My hand trembled. He took another step forward.

"If they find out what you've done - what you've really done - you'll rot in jail!" I shouted, panicked. "I hope you die, Sebastian!" He paused, eyes glinting darkly. "Then..." he whispered, voice low and addictive, curling into my spine like smoke, "can you be my last wish? My final meal, Melisa?" He stepped closer. One inch. Then another. Until he was right in front of me. I couldn't stab him. Even when I should've. He grabbed the sharp object I was holding and forced me to bend my body over the desk, exposing myself to him. I tried to escape, but my hands were firmly grasped by his strong arms, preventing me from getting away.

"What are you doing?" I am afraid he is going to kill me or stab me. But instead, he spanks my rear, making me gasp.

Spank

"You are being such a bad girl today, talking to another guy, Melisa, without my permission?"

"Who are you, my father?" I am mocking him for doing something as foolish as this. "Do you have daddy issues?" What on earth is wrong with him?

"I don't have to say that! Even if I don't have a father figure, I can handle myself!"

"Oh really? Can you handle this, Melisa?" He began to play with me, using his fingers both inside and out. I whimpered, feeling overwhelmed by sensations that were difficult to articulate; it felt so good. "Like that moan and whimper for me, little girl... Do you have Daddy issues? If not, you do now."

"Please s-stop... I can't; I am going to pee!"

"Then pee, now. Don't hold it. I am going to erase these motherfucking dudes who raped you, Melisa. I want you to think of me, only me." I moaned, unable to help it, my body shaking from his behavior, and I felt so weak.

"I don't understand what you're talking about. What did you do? How do you know Sebastian?"

"Because I've been watching you, Melisa. You don't know how addicted I am to you. Those dudes? They will not harm you anymore; they can't touch your beautiful skin or a single inch of your hair, Melisa."

"What did you do, Sebastian?" My voice was filled with shock, curiosity, and confusion after he said those things to me. "I killed them. I cut them into pieces, Melisa. I killed them for you. They deserve to go to hell and die." He holds me like a baby right now trying to calm me down. I couldn't speak more. My mind was so weak after I came and my mind was blurred and the darkness covered me. His grip, his kisses, his fingers drives me insane, it makes me weak, he knows how to make me pleasure and pain he knows how to carry me so well, I love being chased I love rough I love being forced to someone but yet why? From a stranger? I don't think so.

"Sebastian, please? don't do this," I whispered. But God, I'm such a fucking liar, aren't I? Because my body - my traitorous, aching body - is betraying me. I'm desperate for his touch. Every inch of me is screaming for him, craving the way his fingers move inside me. And when I look at him - at the way his pants strain over that hard length - I can't stop thinking about it. About how it would feel inside me. I can't explain this. I hate it. I hate him. But I want him. And that terrifies me more than anything.

I can hear him starting to growl - and I know he likes it.I know he wants me. But fuck? those muscles, that body, the way he looks - it's driving me crazy. I want to touch him. God, I must be insane.