Bound by Obsession

Part 50

Dazai blinked awake, his mind groggy, disoriented by the sudden shift in his surroundings. He wasn't in the same room as before—that much was immediately clear. The bedroom he now found himself in was even more expansive than the last one, with tall windows draped in heavy velvet curtains, ornate furniture, and an atmosphere that felt both luxurious and suffocating at the same time.

The air was cool, and though the room was lavish, it felt more like a cage than a place of comfort. How many of these mansions does Fyodor have? Dazai thought wryly as he slowly sat up. This one was more decadent, larger, but the feeling of being trapped was the same.

As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he noticed a familiar figure seated at the edge of the room, calmly watching him. Fyodor, with his usual composed demeanor, sat in a high-backed chair, a glass of wine in hand, his gaze fixed intently on Dazai.

"You're awake," Fyodor said softly, his voice carrying across the room like a whisper on the wind. There was a knowing smile on his face, one that always made Dazai feel like Fyodor was ten steps ahead of everyone else. "How are you feeling?"

Dazai's eyes narrowed slightly. He wasn't sure how long he'd been unconscious or how he had gotten here, but he knew that this new place wasn't an accident. Fyodor was always methodical, always planning, and Dazai was starting to wonder what role he played in this twisted game.

"Another mansion?" Dazai said lightly, masking his unease with a smirk. "You really know how to pamper your guests."

Fyodor chuckled, the sound low and almost affectionate. "Pampering you is not my intention, Dazai." He stood up and approached the bed, his movements graceful and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. "This place is more fitting, don't you think? More... appropriate for what comes next."

Dazai raised an eyebrow, his usual wit coming to his defense. "And what exactly comes next, Fyodor?"

Fyodor stopped just a few feet from him, his smile never faltering. "You."

The word hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning. Dazai didn't respond immediately, trying to gauge Fyodor's next move. There was something different about Fyodor today—something darker, more intense. It was as if this entire week had been leading up to this moment.

"You know," Fyodor continued, his voice soft, "I could have harmed you countless times, Dazai. But I didn't. Do you know why?"

Dazai kept his expression neutral, though his mind raced with possibilities. "You're going to tell me, aren't you?"

Fyodor's smile widened. "Because I don't want to hurt you, Dazai. I want to break you. Slowly. Completely. Until you understand that no matter where you run, no matter who tries to save you—you'll always end up back with me."

Dazai felt a chill run down his spine. He had known Fyodor was dangerous, but hearing those words spoken so plainly made the threat more real than ever. Fyodor wasn't just playing a game—he was deadly serious about this. About him.

"And what if I don't break?" Dazai asked, his voice steady, despite the tension building inside him.

Fyodor's eyes gleamed with something close to amusement. "Oh, but you will. It's inevitable, Dazai. You belong to me."

Dazai remained silent for a moment, studying the man in front of him. Fyodor was undeniably brilliant, and he had always been a master of manipulation. But what unnerved Dazai the most wasn't the threat of being broken—it was the quiet certainty in Fyodor's voice, as if it had already happened.

"Well," Dazai said, leaning back against the headboard with a smirk, "you certainly know how to make a person feel special."

Fyodor chuckled again, but there was no humor in it. He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair from Dazai's forehead, his touch surprisingly tender for someone who had just spoken so cruelly. "You are special to me, Dazai."

Dazai didn't flinch, though his heartbeat quickened slightly at the contact. He kept his smirk, playing his role, but inside, he was already calculating his next move. Fyodor was dangerous, and this mansion—no matter how lavish—was nothing more than a gilded cage.

"We'll see about that," Dazai muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Fyodor to hear.

Fyodor's smile widened as if he were entertained by Dazai's defiance. "Indeed, we will."