Little Angel

Chapter:49

Vivian Flammery.
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I was sitting in this fucking room for almost an hour now, a small prison that felt more like a stage set for a drama I had no desire to be part of. The air was thick with tension, a mix of stale coffee and unease. Marko, the kidnapper with a penchant for arrogance, was typing away behind his desk, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing just a few feet away.

"Why am I here?" I finally asked, breaking the heavy silence that had settled comfortably between us.

He looked up, his fingers pausing as he tilted his head in that infuriatingly casual way, as if I were merely an inconsequential character in his game.

"Why? Do you prefer the cold cell over this?" He shot back, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

I would give anything to slap that smirk away from his face; it's fucking annoying.

This room, to be fair, was warm—not the cold concrete cell I had briefly occupied. Yet, even with its comforts, I'd take the narrative. I longed for the escape of a dark, unfeeling space over this humid, oppressive atmosphere filled with his vile presence. "I thought you would like it here, you know, in your condition." He pointed to my stomach, where my hand instinctively rested since the test confirmed that I am indeed pregnant.

Relax, Vivian. Don't get your blood pressure high; it's not good for the baby.

"I'd honestly prefer a cold room over having to see your face for this long," I snapped back, fury bubbling beneath the surface.

"Hmm..." Marko murmured, clearly unfazed, returning to whatever nefarious work flickered on his screen.

"Tell me, Vivian," he said, suddenly breaking the tension with a question that felt rehearsed. "Don't you feel burdened?"

"Burdened by what?" I asked, confusion curling my brow as I struggled to keep my irritation at bay.

"Well, you meet a man; you fall in love with him, but he has a daughter; you have to take care of her too. Then he adopted—what was her name again?" He paused, tapping his chin, feigning deep thought. "Ah, yes. Hannah. You have to take care of her too. Don't you feel burdened, knowing that the man you love will always make her his first priority? Like when he chose to rescue her over you and left you here to suffer?"

His words were daggers, trying to pierce the facade I struggled to maintain. I knew he was playing one of his manipulation games with me, attempting to exploit the weaknesses he had witnessed in me before. I wouldn't let him win this time.

"Daisy is my daughter too," I said, my voice firm and unwavering. "If not by blood, then by choice. I would have done the same if the role is reversed, and it will not mean that I don't love Gabriel, but you wouldn't understand that because it takes emotions—something you clearly lack."

For a moment, his arrogance faltered, and I seized the opportunity like a wild animal sensing its prey about to flee.

"Tell me, Marko, how does it feel to trap people in a room and force them into these twisted narratives? Does it make you feel powerful?" I said, leaning forward. ''Or all of this to prove something to you or your family. You know Vald had told me about you once.''

He straightened up, the veneer of calm beginning to crack. "Power is only a means to an end, Vivian. It's about control. You're still too naive to see how fragile love can be—and how easily it can be used against you. My father is weak, and so is my brother."

"Is that your grand philosophy?" I laughed spitefully. "Control over love? Control over some helpless girls makes you feel in control. Sounds like a terrible tragedy rather than some noble deed."