The Fire Of Vengeance

Tears clung stubbornly to her lashes, gathering faster than she could blink them away. Her eyes were red-rimmed, glassy with pain and confusion, as though she was struggling to understand how everything had come to this. Her trembling fingers curled around the cold golden railing behind her while she pressed herself against it, inch by inch, trying to create a distance that no longer existed.

She looked like a cornered bird-fragile, desperate, and painfully aware that there was nowhere left to run.
More tears slipped down her cheeks, tracing silent paths across her pale skin. Yet she never looked away from him. Fear, hurt, disbelief-every emotion swam within her gaze.

But the eyes staring back at her offered nothing.

No warmth.

No remorse.

No hesitation.

Only a vast, unsettling emptiness, accompanied by the faintest flicker of amusement that made her stomach twist.

He stood before her like an unmovable shadow. Both of his hands rested on the golden railing at either side of her, caging her in. His fingers tightened around the metal until the veins in his hands stood out sharply beneath his skin, as though he were restraining something far more dangerous than anger.

The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating.
Then he spoke.

"Tell me," he said softly, his deep voice cutting through the stillness like the edge of a blade.

"Tell me how terrible I am." He tilted his head slightly.

"Tell me how heartless I am."

Another step.

Another stolen breath.

he murmured, his gaze never leaving hers.

"You seem to know me so well."

The corner of his mouth curved further, barely noticeable but there was nothing warm about it.

The cloud above them roared.