l's

than the last. "No, you won't. You love my mom. You took her

like my own sister. But when it comes to you, you are my f

ry me? You could have any girl-someone richer, someone

want me for my money. I want you,"

on't want to marry you," I

o obey me, my flower," he decl

ce trailed off, the wor

e sentence, Petal," he dem

ce!" he roared, his voice echoing in the room. When I didn't respond, he leaned closer, his lips brushing against my shoulder as

ts. Please let go," I begged, tears streaming down my face. He licked th

" he said, his voice low and

because you are..." My voice

dy, invading every inch of my personal space. The humiliation, the helplessness-it was too much to bear. My i

ghtly from the impact, but when he looked back at me, th

I realized-the

-------------

ng out of control. My life was simple before him-quiet, uneventful, and filled with dreams of graduating, findin

possessiveness in his eyes, the way his voice dropped an octave when he called me My flower. At first, I thought it

nd me. When I tried to pull away, to assert my independence, he tightened his grip. My rejection only fueled his madness, and now I'm h

ing signs. I should've ru