Chapter 13: She Wants An End

Vincenzo's POV

She twisted in my grip, trying to break free. “I’ll never bend to you,” she snapped, her voice steady but filled with venom.

I threw her onto the bed with force, this time ensuring that she stayed there. Her body bounced against the mattress, and I heard the chain rattle as it caught on the frame. She scrambled to sit up, but I was already towering over her, my shadow swallowing her whole.

“Stay,” I ordered.

Her lip curled, and she gave me a look that was almost too arrogant for my liking. “You’re wasting your time.”

I reached down and grabbed her by the chin, forcing her to look me in the eye. “It’s not about wasting time, Lyra,” I said softly, my voice dark. “It’s about making sure you understand your place. You don’t get to run from this. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

She pushed my hand away, but there was a hesitation in her movement. A slight tremor in her fingers. She was trying not to show it, but I could see it in the way she flinched when I touched her.

“You think you’re the first man to try and break me?” she asked, her voice trembling with something I couldn’t quite place. “I’ve had worse.”

I leaned in closer, my breath brushing against her ear. “And yet, here you are,” I whispered. “Still fighting. Still trying to resist.”

Her body stiffened, and I could feel the tension rolling off of her.

“You’ll stop fighting,” I said, my voice almost a purr now. “You’ll beg me for mercy. You’ll be mine.”

Her eyes flashed with rage. “I’ll never beg you for anything.”

I smiled darkly, my fingers tracing the line of her jaw. “We’ll see about that.”

Lyra wasn’t ready to submit yet, but I could tell she was starting to crack. The stubbornness in her eyes wavered just a little. And that little crack? That was all I needed.

Her defiance was starting to wear thin, and I could see the smallest tremor in her hands as she sat there, her eyes burning with a fire that couldn’t be fully extinguished, not yet. The resistance had shifted. It wasn’t as solid as it once was. And that, in itself, was intoxicating.

Lyra glared up at me, a mixture of exhaustion and fury in her gaze. "Please," she said, the word hanging in the air with a strange weight.

For a moment, I thought I misheard her, but no. She was looking up at me, and there was a desperation creeping into her voice. "Please, just let me go," she whispered, her voice low, almost cracking.

I stood still, studying her carefully. The chains around her neck clinked softly as she shifted on the bed, her breathing uneven now. She wasn’t asking for mercy—not yet, at least—but there was something in the way she spoke that made me pause.

I stepped closer, looking down at her with a cold smile. "You want me to let you go?" I asked, my tone teasing. "After all this? After everything you’ve done to try and resist me?"

Her hands clenched into fists, the desperation in her eyes sharpening as she tugged at the chains. “Yes. Please, I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”

The sight of her, broken and pleading—no, not yet completely broken—was everything I wanted, but it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t done with her. Not by a long shot.

I let out a low laugh, a sound that vibrated with dark amusement. “Begging me already, Lyra?” I took another slow step forward. “Did you really think you could just get out of this without paying the price?”

Her eyes burned with renewed defiance, but I could see it now—her spirit was cracking. She wasn’t as strong as she thought she was.

“I won’t beg you,” she said, her voice strained but still holding that stubborn edge. “I just want you to leave me alone.”

I didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I reached for the glass of wine I’d set aside earlier. I could feel the tension in the room growing, thickening with the weight of her plea, her refusal. The glass was still full, and I swirled it slowly, watching the red liquid spiral in the glass.

“I think you’ll beg before the night is over,” I said softly, my voice low but confident.

She didn’t answer me, her gaze locked on the floor now, almost defeated. That wasn’t enough. I wasn’t satisfied yet. I needed more.

Suddenly, I moved. It was fast, too fast for her to react, and before she could brace herself, I yanked her forward by the chain, forcing her to look at me once again. Her body collided with mine, but she didn’t fight. She just gasped, the chain biting into her neck as I held her tight.

I was enjoying this too much.

"You think you can command me with your pleas?" I hissed, my grip tightening on her chain. "You think a simple 'please' will make me feel sorry for you?"

Before she could answer, I raised the glass of wine, and with a cruel smile, I poured the liquid all over her face. The wine splashed against her skin, cold and wet, staining her clothes and dripping down her face, mixing with the tears that were now threatening to spill from her eyes.

She sputtered, her eyes wide in shock, but she didn’t cry out. Not yet.

I chuckled darkly, watching the wine drip down her face. "Pathetic," I murmured, taking a slow step back. "You think I’ll have mercy on you now?"

She wiped the wine off her face, her breath shallow and ragged. “You—" Her voice was hoarse, but there was no malice in it now. Just exhaustion. “Please… just leave me alone.”

I laughed again, my amusement growing. "Leave you alone? That’s what you want? After everything? You think that’s going to happen now? You think I’m just going to let you go?"

Her lips trembled, but she still refused to beg fully. Instead, she glared at me, her hands shaking from the cold of the wine and the fury building in her chest.

I stepped closer, leaning down so my face was just inches from hers. "You’re mine, Lyra. There’s no leaving. No escape."

She swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling with every breath she took. "Then just kill me," she spat, her words thick with disgust. "End it. If you’re going to break me, then break me. Don’t leave me in this hell."

“I won't, I will do worse than breaking you.”