Chapter 4

Dario's pov

Power isn't just about fear. It's about visibility.I let Ezebel see what I wanted her to see. Let her hear the threats, witness the punishments. I wanted her to understand that freedom didn't exist here-not even for me. Only control.She doesn't speak much.

But she listens. She watches.And that makes her interesting.

This morning, I didn't call for her, but she still showed up outside my room-assigned to clean it.

Marta's orders.

Oush -owww- harder -keep on going -don't stop ,| didn't stop what I was doing.The woman on my bed-Lina, or whatever her name was-laughed too loudly, said meaningless things. Her lipstick smeared across the sheets. I ignored her.

"She was one of the maids .she thought I could give her freedom by giving up her body funny ."GET OUT "I said I watched her pack her clothes and ran out of the room."

But I didn't ignore Ezebel.I knew she could hear every sound through the slightly opened door.

And when I was finished, I left the room without a word.

Let Ezebel clean it. Let her pick up the broken glass, straighten the sheets, remove the stench of lust and power.it wasn't about the mess. it was a message.

This is my world, Ezebel. You live inside it. You serve it. You survive it.

But there's something different about her. Even when she lowers her head, her hands don't tremble.She's angry.Disgusted. Trying not to show it.I want her to keep fighting.

Because one day, when she finally stops...That victory will taste better than any other.

Ezebels pov

The door shut behind him with a finality that echoed in my chest.I stood there, broom trembling in my hands, staring at the chaos left behind-torn sheets, shattered glass, and the heavy scent of power and cruelty.

I wanted to scream. To throw the broom, to shatter everything in this cursed house. But instead, I bent down and started cleaning.

Every sweep of the broom was a reminder-of who I was, and who I was trapped with.His world was cold, ruthless, and merciless. But so was my fire.l would not break. Not yet.

As I worked, my mind raced - looking for a crack, a chance, a moment which could turn this nightmare into my battleground.

For now,I was a prisoner. But someday, I would be the one holding the power.

And when that day came he would know what it means to face a storm

As I worked,my hands trembled, not from the effort,but from the rage and helplessness burning inside me .As I wiped the surface, heard footsteps approaching.the old woman (Marta) appeared at the door,her eyes soft but firm.

"Ezebel," she said quietly, "If you want to survive here, you have to play their game. Follow his commands, and maybe you'll find a way out someday.

."

I nodded silently, swallowing the lump in my throat. I was trapped, but I refused to break completely.

—

The room was finally clean, but no matter how spotless it looked, it couldn't wash away the fear and pain inside me. Yet, deep down, a small spark of hope flickered - I would fight to keep it alive, no matter what.

—-.

That night, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts spiraling. Every door was locked, every path watched.

But one way remained -dangerous, humiliating.

What if I seduced him?

Not out of desire, but strategy. Dario craved power, control. Maybe I could twist that craving, become something he couldn't dominate so easily.I hated him. The very thought made my skin crawl. But if getting closer meant finding a way out, maybe it was worth the risk.I wouldn't surrender- I would pretend.Play his game. Make him fall. Then cut him down from the inside.That was the plan.