Her Own Enemy

Without sparing Leonard a glance, Vivian stormed out of the room, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor. Her hands clenched into fists as she marched down the hallway, her heart pounding in frustration.

But ten minutes later, she was back, this time angrier than before.

She had toured the entire house, searching every corner, every hallway, every possible exit, but there was none. Not a single door she could unlock. Not even a window she could open. The windows had glass panels with tiny holes for ventilation, but they were completely sealed, mocking her futile attempts to escape.

This wasn't just any ordinary place. It was Leonard's domain. A space created by his magic, designed to be impenetrable to anyone but him.

And that realization made her stomach twist with dread.

As soon as she re-entered the room, his voice greeted her.

"You're back."

Calm. Unbothered. Almost… amused.

Vivian's teeth ground together. How could he be so composed when she was practically losing her mind? The irony of the situation wasn't lost on her. Somehow, they had switched roles. Just days ago, she had been the one holding the upper hand, confident and distant. Now, Leonard sat there like an unshaken mountain, while she felt like a storm barely held together by her own stubborn will.

And there he was, sitting by the window as if nothing had happened. A small table in front of him held a freshly brewed pot of tea and an elegant plate of pastries.

Vivian's brows furrowed. That hadn't been there before.

Magic.

That frustrating, unfair, overwhelming magic of his.

It was thrilling to read about in novels, the all-powerful male lead who could bend the world to his will. But experiencing it firsthand? It was a nightmare.

Just yesterday, she had felt like the protagonist in a fairy tale. He had used his magic to create stunning illusions, to make her feel like the center of his world. But now, that same power had become the bars of her cage.

She glared at him, seething, mentally hurling every curse she could think of.

"Vivian, stop being stubborn and have a seat," Leonard said gently, his voice carrying a quiet authority that sent a shiver down her spine.

She scoffed. "You must be joking if you think I'll sit down and play tea party with you."

But before she could take a single step back, she was suddenly sitting.

Her body had moved against her will, the chair cool beneath her legs.

Vivian's breath caught in her throat.

"You—" Her eyes widened, rage flickering in them.

Magic. Again.

The audacity of this man!

She wanted to scream, to hurl the teacup at his infuriatingly composed face, but she forced herself to stay silent. Making a scene wouldn't change anything, not when she was trapped in his space.

Instead, she grabbed the cup and took a sip, if only to calm herself.

The moment the warm liquid touched her tongue, she stiffened.

This tea…

A wave of familiarity washed over her. The delicate blend of herbs was one she had grown far too used to since transmigrating. A calming tea. Something designed to soothe her nerves and take the edge off her emotions.

Was he trying to manipulate her feelings?

A bitter laugh almost escaped her lips.

How many cups of calming tea had she drunk since entering this world? Too many to count.

She finished two cups and nibbled absently on the pastries, feeling the tension in her body lessen despite her growing resentment.

And then, Leonard spoke.

"Vivian, what can I do to stop you from seeking out other men?"

Her fingers tightened around the teacup. Slowly, she set it down.

"Maybe," she said, voice measured, "you should start by explaining why you ignored me for three years. Why you let our marriage turn into nothing but empty vows. Why you stood by while rumors of your affairs spread like wildfire. Why you refused to even touch me as your wife, yet now suddenly refuse to let me go."

Leonard held her gaze, silent for a long moment.

Then, with a sigh, he said, "I'm sorry, but I can't do any of that. And I certainly won't let you go, not when I know that the moment I do, I'll find you in another man's arms."

Vivian let out a sharp laugh, though there was no humor in it. "You can't keep me here forever. My family will find me."

He tilted his head slightly. "I know," he admitted, "but I believe I can keep you here long enough for your feelings to return."

Vivian's stomach dropped.

That was what he was after?

Not power. Not revenge.

He wanted her to love him again.

But that was the problem—she wasn't the same Vivian as before.

And yet, she was.

The real Vivian's emotions still lingered within her, clawing at her like an echo of the past. Leonard was already dangerously captivating, his natural charm, his presence, his power. If she wasn't careful, if she let her guard down, she knew exactly what would happen.

She wouldn't just fall for him.

She would break for him.

"Leonard, what do you want from me?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Something inside her cracked. Her hands curled into fists, and her vision blurred with unshed tears.

"You won't love me. You barely even looked at me. You let rumors spread, let people mock me behind my back. You danced with her at my own birthday and wedding anniversary ball, humiliating me before the entire nobility. You wouldn't even touch me as your wife, and now, now that we're divorced, you won't even allow me to seek happiness elsewhere. Why, Leonard? What have I done to deserve this?"

Her voice rose, raw with emotion.

"You once told me that even if I stood naked in front of you, you wouldn't touch me. So why won't you let another man do it?!"

Tears slipped down her cheeks, but even in her vulnerable state, she looked breathtaking.

Leonard watched her intently. Then, without hesitation, he stood and crossed the space between them.

Before she could react, his arms wrapped around her.

"Let me go," she muttered, pushing against him weakly.

But her strength was nothing compared to his.

She struggled, but eventually, her body gave in, exhaustion setting in as her sobs quieted.

Leonard held her without a word, his warmth steady, his presence overwhelming.

When her trembling subsided, he finally spoke.

"It's not that I didn't want to touch you," he murmured. "I was afraid. Afraid that once I had you, I wouldn't be able to let you go. Afraid that I'd become addicted to you."

Vivian's breath hitched.

Leonard's golden eyes darkened as he lifted her chin, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

"But now, let me ask you something, Vivian."

His voice was low, dangerous.

"If I make love to you, will you stop seeking out other men?"

Vivian froze.

Her thoughts scrambled, but before she could even think, her lips parted—

"Yes."

Her eyes widened in horror.

She hadn't spoken.

The original Vivian had.

And at that moment, she realized something terrifying.

She wasn't just afraid of Leonard.

She was afraid of herself.