Dominated (Obsessed II)

26.

Richard Dawson
The Truth

I hadn't left the house in days. Not that I could. The board had forced me out. Stepping down wasn't a choice anymore, it was a verdict. I signed the papers with the same hands that had built an empire, and now those hands felt empty, useless. The life I thought I controlled had slipped through my fingers faster than I ever imagined.

I stayed in bed longer than I should have, staring at the ceiling. Every line in my face felt sharper, every shadow under my eyes darker. Pride, power, control none of it mattered anymore. Everything I had, everything I was had been stripped away quietly, efficiently, and I had no one to blame but myself... and her. Bianca.

She was back, and she didn't just want revenge. She wanted to watch me crumble, and she didn't need to touch me to make it happen. I know it was her, I just couldn't prove it. How on earth did she escape? I have so many questions but such little energy or power to do anything.

Just a few clicks, a few well-placed leaks, a few whispers to the right people, and I was done. I had built walls around myself for decades, and she had found the cracks, the small gaps, and exploded everything inside.

I dragged myself upright, body stiff, face pale, running a hand over the stubble I hadn't bothered to shave. Everything I touched used to bend to my will. Now even the air felt heavy with my own failure.

I walked to the window and stared out at the city I used to rule. The streets were the same, the cars the same, the people moving through their lives like nothing had changed. But everything had changed. Everything except me, stuck here, a king without a kingdom.

The doorbell rang.

I froze. My first instinct was to ignore it. But a part of me, the part that always craved control, the part that hated being powerless, made me move. Each step to the door felt like walking through water, heavy, deliberate.

Another ring. I exhaled slowly and opened the door.

No one there. Just a package on the mat. My name, my house. My empire in cardboard form. A threat, a reminder, a taunt I couldn't tell which.

I picked it up. Inside, a simple envelope. No markings, no return. I tore it open. A single sheet of paper stared back at me. Plain text. Factual. Devastating.

You lost because you thought you were untouchable. Did you really think you could beat me? You were slow, predictable, human. And I—

I stopped reading. My heart was a storm, my pride shredded but still pulsing beneath the skin. Bianca was really here. She was in my life again. Not for reconciliation, not for mercy. She was here to remind me what I had been, what I had done and how powerless I had become.

I dropped the paper on the floor, pacing the room. I wanted to scream. I wanted to burn something down.

And then I realized something worse: I was still curious. I wanted to know her next move. I wanted to see how she'd finish me. But the truth is she already did, I'm just lucky I'm not in prison. All my accounts and assets were frozen, I was kicked out of my post, I had lawsuits left right and center, Isabelle breathing down my neck for spousal support. I am only in this house because it was under my mother's name.

The doorbell rang again.

This time, I didn't hesitate. I opened the door, bracing myself. Whoever it was had no idea how far I'd fallen or how far I could still claw back.

"Amelia?" I said confused

"You look like death," she said, scanning me from head to toe.

I stepped aside automatically. Some part of me still remembered manners, even if everything else had rotted. "Come in."