There was just something about Rowan Black, he didn’t just get angry, he destroyed entire rooms with it.

Whenever I’d seen him lose control in the past, things broke.

People broke.

And now, I was the reason.

Somewhere in that cold mansion, I could picture him storming each room, his voice stern, demanding answers no one could give.

The staff trembling

Elora stepping forward with her perfect, composed face, trying to calm him the way she always did, pretending her hands weren’t shaking.

And Rowan, smashing something priceless just to hear it shatter.

A vase.

Maybe one of those old ones on the marble stools near the staircase.

I’d walked past it so many times and didn't dear touch it.

I could see it now in my mind, his hand gripping it, then the loud sound of the vase against the wall.

I knew him well enough to know the scene without needing witnesses.

He wouldn’t cry.

He wouldn’t beg.

Rowan Black didn’t know how to grieve.

He only knew how to claim.

And to him, I was the only thing that had ever truly belonged to him.

But even inside the grandma’s mansion, Rowan’s presence stayed there like a shadow that followed me around.

I took in a deep breath, forcing myself back to the desk where a stack of blank papers waited. A pen placed on the edge of the table

This gives me hope.

This is the reason i had to fight

If I didn’t write it all down, if I didn’t face every wound and every theft—I might forget.

I might start thinking Rowan was just a man who had loved me too much, instead of a monster who broke me piece by piece

So, I sat.

And I wrote.

*The Blacks and what they took from me*

I pressed the pen so hard against the paper that the tip tore the surface. And then I began writing. The first thing I could think of was my family. The Blacks ruined my family. They stole from this family. Even had something to do with the death of my mother, forged documents so they could have assets, so they could have it all.

They did something to my father.

I know it.

They disguised it in business terms, in contracts and debts, but I know what it was. It was Destruction. They stripped away my father’s company, his pride. Until he wasn’t even a man anymore, just a loyal subject who says yes to whatever Theresa, my stepmother says.

And then the next thing that followed on that list was "My freedom." I never said yes to Rowan. I never chose him. He took me because he could, because he wanted to prove to everyone that even the untouchable Alessia Dale could be brought to her knees.

My body. My time. My choices. He stole them all.

I sat there in silence as tests filled the corner of my eyes. I continued writhing. Another thing he took from me was my voice.

He silenced me at every turn.

Every protest was met with that annoying smile. Even when I screamed, he looked at me like I was whispering.

The pen kept shaking as I held it, I wanted to stop.

My heart kept pounding, and the tears at the corners of my eyes became even more. But stopping was weakness, and weakness was how Rowan always won. Weakness was what brought me here.

So, I kept going.

The next thing, My reputation.

They painted me as unstable, irrational. They made people believe I was obsessed with Rowan, when it was the other way around.

They stole dreams from me, I had plans once. I wanted to build something of my own, something that wasn't led by family names and legacies. They made sure every door shut on me.

My writing grew sharper, angrier.

And finally, he took my peace, embarrassed me

He haunted me, even in silence.

The way he looked at me like I was already his wife, his possession, his property, but still went on to cheat with my own sister

I dropped the pen for a moment.

I looked at the piece of paper again.

This was my war board.

My reminder.

And yet, as I looked at the list, I realized something.

Even after everything, a part of me still felt him.

A part of me still wanted him.

I hated it.

I hated myself for it.

For remembering the way his eyes could pin me to the floor. He had broken me so much that I still trembled when I thought of him.

Somewhere in his mansion, he was probably saying it now, the same words he’d said to me a hundred times.

“She belongs to me.”

I forced myself to keep writing.

One final thing they took was my future, all of it. They wanted me trapped in their world forever, they wanted me to bear their name, give Rowan children. But they don't get to decide that.

Not anymore.

I underlined the last words until the paper nearly ripped.

Not anymore.

For the first time in years, I felt something, something I couldn’t quite explain.

Anger?

Maybe Determination? Or even power

I sat back, staring at the war board I’d made.

Page after page covered in my handwriting.

Proof that the Blacks took everything from me. Proof that Rowan Black didn’t love me. He destroyed me.

And I would not let them win again. Not Rowan or anyone else.

I sat there in silence as I folded my arms. That was when my phone buzzed.

I froze.

It was an unknown number.

My heart pounded as I reached for it.

The screen lit up with a single notification.

With trembling fingers, I opened it.

Four words.

She belongs to me.