Twisted Desire

Chapter 10: The Cage Tightens

The tension in the air was palpable, an oppressive weight that seemed to press down on everything in Dante’s sprawling mansion. It wasn’t just the suffocating opulence of the place—every inch of it decorated in dark marble, gold trimmings, and cold, lifeless grandeur—it was the feeling of being watched. Controlled.

Adira felt the pressure most acutely. She sat at the edge of the vast dining table, her hands resting in her lap, knuckles white from the effort of keeping her fingers from trembling. Dante sat at the other end, his presence looming over her even from across the room. His eyes burned into her, as they always did, a constant reminder of who held the power in this twisted relationship.

Since that night—since the moment she had stood up to him and declared that she didn’t belong to him—the tension between them had escalated to something far darker. Dante had become more volatile, more unpredictable, his rage simmering just beneath the surface. Every interaction felt like walking a tightrope over a pit of snarling beasts, and Adira knew that one wrong move would send her plummeting.

But it wasn’t just Dante’s anger that had her on edge. It was the way the walls of her world seemed to be closing in, tightening around her like a noose. Dante had always controlled every aspect of her life, but now it felt like he was suffocating her, pulling the strings of every interaction, every choice, until she couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t just trapped in his mansion anymore—she was trapped in a cage of his making, and the bars were closing in.

“Eat,” Dante’s voice broke through the silence, sharp and cold. He gestured to the untouched plate in front of her, the expensive food piled high but utterly unappetizing. Adira stared at it, her stomach churning with anxiety. The thought of putting anything in her mouth made her nauseous.

She forced herself to pick up the fork, her movements mechanical, and took a small bite. The food was tasteless, like ash on her tongue, but she chewed and swallowed, trying to ignore the way her body rejected it. She could feel Dante’s gaze on her, the weight of his scrutiny making her skin crawl.

“That’s better,” Dante said, his voice softening into something that almost sounded like praise, but the malice lurking beneath it was unmistakable. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving her. “You’ve been distant lately, Adira. I don’t like it when you pull away from me.”

Her heart skipped a beat, panic flaring in her chest. This was how it always began—Dante sensing her emotional withdrawal, his need to assert control manifesting in subtle, manipulative comments that seemed innocuous at first. But Adira knew better. She had learned to read the signs.

“I haven’t been pulling away,” she said quietly, her voice steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides. “I’ve just been… tired.”

“Tired,” Dante repeated, as if testing the word on his tongue, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You don’t get to be tired, Adira. Not when I’ve given you everything.”

His words were like a slap, and Adira flinched despite herself. She had heard this argument before, this twisted logic that Dante wielded like a weapon to keep her in line. He gave her everything—money, luxury, protection—and in return, she was supposed to give him everything. Her body, her mind, her soul.

But Dante had never given her freedom. And that was the one thing she craved more than anything.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, lowering her gaze to her plate. Apologies were the easiest way to placate him, to keep the situation from escalating. She had become an expert at saying what he wanted to hear, at pretending that everything was fine, even when she was drowning.

Dante stared at her for a long moment, the silence stretching out between them like a taut wire, ready to snap. Then, without warning, he stood, pushing his chair back with a sharp scrape of wood against marble. Adira’s heart leaped into her throat as he crossed the room toward her, his footsteps slow and deliberate, each one a reminder of the power he held over her.