Chapter 10: Marked by Control

The bruises on my face and wrists were nothing compared to the ache deep inside me. The mansion felt heavier now, its walls closer, suffocating me with every second. I stayed in my room, clutching the blanket like it could shield me from the weight of their cruelty.

I didn't eat. I didn't speak. And when the tears finally came, they wouldn't stop.

The Aftermath

The knock on the door was sharp, but I didn't move.

"Sophia," Leo's voice came through the wood, cold and commanding. "It's dinner. Come down."

I stayed silent, my knees pulled to my chest.

"Sophia," he repeated, his tone sharper this time.

Still, I didn't answer. My throat felt tight, the words stuck like stones.

The door creaked open, and I felt his presence before I saw him. He stepped inside, his icy-blue eyes scanning the room until they landed on me, curled up in the corner of the bed.

"What is this?" he asked, his voice calm but biting.

I didn't respond, keeping my gaze on the floor.

Leo moved closer, his steps deliberate. "You've been in here all day. Why didn't you come to dinner?"

"I'm not hungry," I murmured, my voice barely audible.

"That's not an excuse," he said.

I flinched as the bed dipped under his weight. He was close now, too close, his cold gaze cutting through me like a blade.

"Are you crying?" he asked, his tone laced with disdain.

I wiped at my face quickly, but it was useless. The tears kept falling, silent and endless.

"Stop," Leo said sharply. "Crying won't fix anything."

I looked up at him then, my chest heaving with a mixture of anger and despair. "Why do you care?" I snapped, my voice breaking. "You don't care about me. You just want to control me."

Leo's eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. "Control is the only thing keeping you alive right now, Sophia. Don't forget that."

He stood abruptly, his movements precise and deliberate. "You will come downstairs. You will eat. And you will stop this nonsense."

When I didn't move, his expression hardened. "Don't make me come back."

Going Downstairs

I don't know why I went. Maybe I wanted to avoid whatever punishment Leo had in store if I didn't. Or maybe I was just too tired to fight anymore.

But when I walked into the dining room, the weight of their stares made me wish I hadn't.

Leo was seated at the head of the table, his expression cold and unreadable. Adrian lounged to his left, his storm-gray eyes lighting up with cruel amusement as he took in my appearance. Nico sat to the right, silent as always, but his emerald gaze flicked over me briefly before returning to his plate.

"Sit," Leo said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I moved to the far end of the table, keeping my head down as I took my seat. The room was oppressively silent, save for the clink of silverware against plates.

"You've been crying," Adrian said suddenly, his voice cutting through the quiet like a knife. "What's the matter, sweetheart? Having second thoughts?"

I didn't respond, my fingers curling into fists under the table.

"Adrian," Leo warned, his tone sharp.

"What?" Adrian replied, his smirk widening. "I'm just trying to help her feel welcome."

"You're not helping," Nico said softly, his voice calm but firm.

Adrian rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair. "She's got bruises on both sides of her face, and you two are acting like nothing happened. You don't think that's worth talking about?"

I froze, my breath catching in my chest. My hands flew up instinctively, covering my cheeks.

"Enough," Leo said, his voice cold. "Eat, Adrian. Or leave."

Adrian's smirk faded, his storm-gray eyes narrowing. "Fine. But don't pretend this is going to get any better."

He turned his attention back to his plate, and the room descended into silence once again.

The Pain of Reality

I barely touched my food. The bruises on my cheeks throbbed with every movement, a constant reminder of Nico's slap, Adrian's cruelty, and the suffocating control they all exerted over me.

When the meal was over, I retreated back to my room without a word. None of them stopped me.

But as I stared at my reflection in the mirror, the tears came again. My face was swollen, the bruises dark and angry against my pale skin.

I pressed my fingers to the marks, wincing at the pain.

They're breaking me, I thought bitterly. Piece by piece, they're breaking me.

But even as the tears fell, a small, defiant voice whispered in the back of my mind:

You're still here. They haven't won yet.