“Because of this? Because of some meaningless mistake?” I stepped closer, the elevator doors sealing us in. “It meant nothing.”
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Just a pathetic attempt to erase her.
“Nothing!?” Her voice cracked, and before I could stop myself I had her by the shoulders, gripping hard—too hard. Brutal. Desperate. She gasped, but I didn’t let go.
“You’re going to calm down now,” I growled through clenched teeth. “Do you understand?”
Her eyes locked on mine, and in them I saw everything—hatred, fear, pain.
“Let me go,” she hissed. Then she shoved a small box against my chest. “The seal is a fake,” she spat. “That’s why I came. I’ve been examining it for days.”
My fingers loosened automatically. I stared down at the box, my thoughts blank. The artifact—the prized seal I had paid so dearly for—was a forgery?
The elevator chimed. The doors slid open. Before I could react, Daisy shoved me with all the strength she had, pressed the box harder into my stomach, and bolted. The air burned in my lungs, but I let her go.
The doors closed again. I was alone. Alone with my guilt. My filth. With the bitter taste of everything I should have been but never was.
Daisy was running from me—but I wouldn’t let her escape. Never. She belonged to me, whether she wanted it or not. I had destroyed her, yes. But I would take her back. Even if I had to break her to do it. Even if I had to burn the world to ash.
She was my beginning and my end.
And I would come for her.
You can try to disappear, Daisy. I will unravel the world until your name is mine alone.
Chapter 22 Daisy
The apartment felt foreign. Every step echoed too loudly, every breath too sharp—like the walls themselves were rejecting me. Every movement felt wrong, as if I were dragging myself through a life that had already rejected me.
With frantic hands, I yanked the travel bag from the closet and stuffed clothes inside—aimless, driven by an inner storm I couldn’t control. My heart pounded in my throat as I threw things in at random.
I just wanted to get away.
Away from him.
Away from everything.
And yet… as I rushed between drawers and dressers, I listened. For footsteps. For the creak of the door. For any sound that meant he was here. That he would come to stop me.
Again and again, I pulled out my phone, unlocked it, and stared at the empty screen. Nothing. No call. No message. No apology. Only silence.
My stomach twisted tighter with every glance.
God, I didn’t want to see him. Didn’t want to touch him again. Didn’t want to breathe him in. And yet something inside me screamed, quiet and desperate:Please stop me. Please fight for me. Show me I still matter to you, even if I can’t believe it myself.
Part of me hated him. Hated him with everything I had left.And still—God, still—I wanted him to tear open the door. To pin me against the wall. To say it.You’re staying. You’re mine.
I hated myself for the thought.
My hands shook so hard the zipper caught twice before it closed.
A car drove by. I froze.Headlights brushed the wall—Maybe it was him.Maybe—But it wasn’t.
Only strangers.
Only silence.
He knew I was leaving.And he didn’t come.Not a message. Not a sound. Nothing.
