"WHO THE HELL WAS HE, MAYA?"
Kai's voice roared through the room. I froze, unsure of how to respond.
"K...Kai... he—"
"I NEED AN ANSWER, MAYA, NOT YOUR DAMN EXCUSES. WHO WAS HE?" he shouted again, his tone sharp, making tears spill down my cheeks.
"K...Kai... he... he..." I stammered, trying to explain, but the words stuck in my throat, choked by fear and emotion.
"Shh... stop crying," he whispered, his voice softening as he released his grip on my neck. I pressed myself against him, clutching his coat as if it were my lifeline.
The room lights flickered on suddenly, and I heard the door lock click shut. It was Kai. He lifted me slightly, guiding me toward the bed, and sat me down gently.
"Tell me, flower, what's wrong..." he murmured, taking my hands in his. Slowly, I lifted my head to meet his gaze.( NOTE : i am explaining it here in short as you know the whole story before but maya is explaining all off it )
"Rhys Bernard..." I began, my voice trembling. "On my first day of college, I went into the cafeteria. There were these boys sitting there... they called me over. I was scared, but I walked up, and they told me to get them some food. I did, but when I spoke, one of them grabbed me, wouldn't let go, and threw me down. And then I saw him... Rhys."
I took a shaky breath, my fingers twisting in my lap. "He told them I was... his captive. He tortured me, Kai. He beat Ryan, my friend, who sat next to me in class, slapped me, locked me in a dark room... And he said he'd be the one picking me up and dropping me off from then on."
Kai's grip tightened, but he said nothing.
"Yesterday, he took me to meet his parents. They were... strange, asking all these questions. When he was driving me home, I wiped off the kiss his mom gave me, and he threw me out of the car, leaving me there alone. Hours later, he came back and..."
I choked on the words. "He kissed me... on the cheek and told me not to wipe it off. Then, today..." My voice quivered. "He... kissed me... on the lips..."
Tears streamed down my face as I blurted everything out. Suddenly, a hard slap landed across my cheek, leaving a stinging burn. My eyes widened as I looked up at Kai.
His eyes were bloodshot, his neck flushed red, and sweat beaded on his forehead. His fists clenched tight, his expression lethal. I instinctively tried to move back, but he seized my hair, pulling me close until our faces were mere inches apart.
"WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?" he roared. I whimpered, realizing my mistake, and whispered apologies repeatedly, but he didn't seem to hear.
He stood abruptly, releasing me and storming toward the door.
"YOU'RE NOT GOING ANYWHERE FROM NOW ON," he barked, slamming the door shut with a resounding force. I collapsed onto the bed, sobbing, mumbling apologies to him over and over.
Across town...
Mr. Bernard sat on his leather sofa, a file open in his hands, his gaze fixed on a single page for several minutes.
Relationship: Married to Kai Valencia from birth.
He tightened his grip on the file, reviewing every detail about Maya and Kai's marriage, arranged by their grandparents to strengthen the family ties. He discovered that, despite being married, Maya hadn't lived with Kai and remained untouched by her husband.
His expression hardened. He knew what he had seen in his son's eyes for Maya—something far from ordinary. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but one thing was certain: if his son wanted her, he would ensure Rhys got her, no matter what it took.
"I want all the information you have on Kai Valencia," he said over the phone, his eyes drifting to Rhys, who was just returning from dropping Maya off.
"Yes, in fifteen minutes," he replied curtly, hanging up. He frowned as he watched Rhys, who casually took an apple from the table and sat beside him.
"Who is Kai Valencia?" Rhys asked, one eyebrow arched curiously.
"Maya's husband." Mr. Bernard placed the file in Rhys's hands, watching his son's face go rigid as he read.
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HIS CAPTIVE
RomanceI wanted nothing but to run, to run away from him to my home, but he wouldn't let me go. He told me I was his captive, only his. No, that wasn't love; that was obsession mixed with nothing but hatred. He kept scraping my wounds, which I couldn't hea...