Pacing back and forth in the room, I was internally praying to God to same me from his wrath today and whatever he brought for me.
His return has brought a storm into my life, and I am sure it will consume me this time.
I know he has returned home after 3 days, so he is going to spend some time with his sister, and I am using this time to prepare myself to face that devil who has already ruined my life and is now determined to make me beg for death.
I know that I haven’t done anything wrong. I just went to give food to his sister in the absence of Grace, and there wasn’t anything wrong with indulging in conversation with her. It is my right to know the whole truth.
Back when I was trying to find out what really happened to my brother, I couldn’t find any proof. He was too smart, covering his tracks well. But now, that I’m here and know that he’s the one who killed my brother, I should know everything. It is my right as a sister.
Even though Desy herself has confirmed that my brother did that to her, I cannot fully accept the painful truth. Deep down, I have a feeling that there is something that is missing, there is something that is hidden from the eyes of all of us.
I need to find out the truth, this is the only way to give peace to the soul of my dead brother. And I will stop calling him brother if, by any chance, the thing Desy and Ansell are saying is true.
I straightened my shoulders and took a deep breath when I heard the clicking sound of the door. I know I have to face him because it is inevitable now, and as I haven’t done anything wrong, I will not bend in front of him at any cost.
I can’t let him win by thinking that he has succeeded in filling me with fear.
As the door swung open, Ansell entered with an aura of seething rage and fury. Our eyes locked, and an intangible current seemed to pass between us, a charged energy that I am sure didn’t go unnoticed by him as well.
I gulped down the lump forming in my throat as he stepped towards me and kept the facade of bravery even when he was standing at a hair’s in my chest, but I didn’t let anything show on my face.
Every fiber of my being was screaming to push him away, but I didn’t dare to do that because I knew that it would only enrage him even more.
“What were you doing in her room?” Ansell’s voice was sharp, his brows furrowing as he asked the same question he had a few minutes ago.
Instead of replaying to him, I looked away. I knew that he was not going to accept this attitude from me, and as expected, he grabbed my arm so tightly that I winced in pain. The searing pain shot through my arm, leaving me gasping for air.
With the strength with which he was holding my arm, I was sure that he would leave deep red marks on my skin, which was exactly what he wanted. I struggled a bit, but it was of no use, so gave up.
These days I have understood one thing, I cannot fight his strength, so I would have to find some other alternative ways to chip away at his dominant behaviour, to irritate him, or to do something that eventually makes him free me.
I know the latter is next to impossible, but I am going to try until my last breath.
“If I am asking you something, you are required to answer that, and that too in words” he threatened.
His eyes locked onto mine with an icy intensity that sent shivers down my spine, making me shudder at my place, but I did not open my mouth to say anything.
I knew I was playing with fire and in the end it would be me who would get burnt but moving around on his whims was unacceptable to me.
Oh! How much I hope that he has died in a car accident while he was away, sparing me from this relentless torment and torture.
“Ahhhh” the abruptness of the pain shattered my thoughts, tearing a yelp from my lips as his grip tightened mercilessly.
I could feel him holding my bone. It seems like he wants to break my phone, and he will not regret it even if it happens.
“Now, will you tell me, or shall I break your bone?” His words were delivered with a chilling calmness, his intentions laid bare for all to see.
“I was planning your murder with your sister” the words stumbled out of my mouth, a slip of the tongue that I immediately regretted. My teeth caught my tongue to stop it from saying anything further, and I ended up harming myself.
My mother always used to say that someday I would get into big trouble if I didn’t keep my tongue under control.
“She can never even think of harming me” he said.
“Then why, and what are you afraid of?” I asked him back, his hold not losing even for a second.
“Your are not in a place to argue. Don’t forget that your parent’s lives are in your hands and the way you behave. Do not accuse me if something happens to them” he threatened me, reminding me how helpless I am in his hands.
He is such a pathetic man that he is not left with any other option than to blackmail me in the name of my parents. What else could I expect from a man who is being raised without parents? He doesn’t know the meaning of love and family.
“Grace’s grandson fell off the stairs of his school, so she had to go there urgently. I just went to her room to give her launch and medicine as she instructed. You came just in time” I told him, telling him what he wanted to hear.
His eyes narrowed at me as if he were not buying everything I said. Of course, I cannot tell him that I had a conversation with his sister. I could already imagine the kind of punishment he might inflict on me if he knew. I will not be surprised if he ties me to the bed like a cattle.
Suddenly his attention shifted as his gaze dropped down to my neck, where his sister applied cream to hide his brutality.
“Who asked you to apply the cream to it?” He asked, his hold losing a bit.
“My pain” I told him in a cold tone that he was using to talk to me.
If he is not ready to understand things in simple language, I believe I will have to communicate with him solely in his language.
In anger, he drew a sharp, audible breath, and his hold intensified. I wanted to cry out but kept myself under control by clenching my teeth tightly together. My tears will only give him pleasure, and he will only hurt me more. He doesn’t have a heart in his chest.
“And from where did you get it?” He asked me further.
“Desy’s room” I couldn’t lie this time because we can easily catch it.
“You will never enter her room again. Do you got me?” His eyes bore into mine, he was towering above me, his breaths tanning my forehead.
He was looking at me intently as if he wanted to print those words in my head.
“Yes, master” I replied, my tone laced with deliberate obedience. I knew this would irk him, and a flicker of confusion replaced his anger, transforming his expression into an unexpected twist.
I could feel a small victory in having disrupted his control, even if only monetarily.
“What exactly in this ‘Master’ thing?” His irritation was clear as he questioned the title I had used for him.
“If you tell me where I need to go and where not, when I am supposed to take a breath, where I am supposed to sit, and what I am supposed to eat, then surely I am reduced to nothing more than your puppet and you, my master, moving me around at your whim” I spat out the truth. “And in our first meeting you yourself asked me to refer to you as sir, and master is also something similar to it. Isn’t it, master?” I fired back, reminding him of his own words.
He let out a sigh and kept staring at me in disbelief. Now one thing is for sure he is enjoying when he is forcefully making me obey his orders but when I am doing it on my own he is getting irritated.
Now I can use this against him. A devilish plan cooked in my head.
His eyes flicked to the clock, and his expression once again shifted as if he remembered something.
“I have no time for this nonsense. My guest will arrive in an hour. He is one of the most important clients for me. I don’t want you to create any mess” he said, and I nodded, “and you will prepare lunch for them because Grace is not here”
And with that, he gave me another order, leaving me fee from his presence, at least for now, but somewhere there was a feeling that something big was going to happen today.