"You look scared," Victor finally said, his voice deep and calm.

"Of course I'm scared! You can't just barge into my house like this!"

Victor gave a faint smirk. "I never needed permission, Vella."

His hand slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a duplicate key.

Vella's blood ran cold. "Where did you get that?" her voice trembled.

Victor twirled the key on his finger casually. "You should know I always have a key."

Vella's heart pounded; she quickly grabbed her phone from her dress pocket, intending to call someone—but Victor swiftly snatched it and tossed it onto the sofa.

Vella was shocked. She looked up. Instantly, her throat tightened.

Victor looked at her with an indescribable gaze. There was tenderness, but also a darkness lurking behind his eyes.

He stepped closer, forcing Vella further back against the wall.

"Why do you always try to get away from me?" he whispered, his fingers rising to gently touch Vella's hair.

Vella felt her body tremble. She wanted to move away, but something in Victor's gaze held her in place.

Vella knew she had to run. Now.

She gathered her courage, trying to avoid Victor's gaze and move towards the stairs. However, quick as lightning, Victor caught her wrist and pulled her back forcefully.

Vella jolted. "Let me go, Victor!"

But Victor just looked at her with a relaxed expression—as if he was enjoying every bit of panic radiating from Vella's eyes.

"I let you run away once," his voice was deep, full of a dangerous calm. "This time, I won't let you go."

Before Vella could struggle, Victor bent down and lifted her in a bridal carry.

"What are you doing?!" Vella tried to struggle, hitting Victor's shoulder with her fists.

Victor didn't budge an inch. "Taking my wife to where she belongs."

My wife?

Vella shuddered at the term.

Victor's steps were firm as he carried Vella up the stairs, as if he knew this house intimately.

Vella's mind was in chaos. How could Victor know which room was hers?

They had dated, but during their three-year relationship, Vella had never brought him to her family home. Victor had never met her mother, let alone been inside this house.

So... how did he know?

"Victor! Put me down now!" Vella struggled again, but Victor only tightened his hold.

"Stop moving, or I'll drop you," he threatened softly.

Damn.

Vella could only stare wide-eyed as Victor easily pushed open her bedroom door and carried her inside.

The door closed with a soft click.

Vella didn't even have time to say anything before Victor dropped her onto the bed, then pinned her down with his hands on either side of her head.

Vella's breath caught.

Victor was too close.

His gaze was too intense.

"Why is your face so tense, darling?" he whispered softly. "Didn't you miss this?"

Vella turned her face away, trying to avoid the man's gaze. "You're crazy..."

Victor touched her chin, forcing her face back towards his.

"Why did you leave me three years ago?" he asked, his voice deep, cold, and full of tension.

Vella fell silent.

Victor narrowed his eyes. "Say it, Vella."

Vella swallowed, her body tense.

She tried to push against Victor's chest, but the man didn't move an inch.

"You loved me too much… you were too obsessive," Vella finally whispered, admitting something she had tried to forget.

Victor was silent for a moment.

Then, he smiled. A smile Vella couldn't interpret—whether it was angry, satisfied, or worse… anticipating something.

"So you admit it."

Victor's hand moved down Vella's cheek, then to her neck, his fingers touching the pulse beating rapidly.

Vella froze.

"You know, Vella… obsessive people usually never let go of what they have," Victor whispered right into her ear.

---

The Next Morning

As sunlight filtered through the gap in the curtains, Vella slowly opened her eyes.

Her head felt heavy, her body tired, and she still felt like she was in a real-life nightmare.

But what made her startle was Victor lying beside her, his face only inches from Vella's.

The man was still holding her tightly, as if refusing to let her go even in sleep.

How did this happen?

Vella wanted to get up, but the moment she moved even slightly, Victor's arm tightened.

Victor's eyelids opened, and he looked at her with a gaze full of possession.

"Good morning, darling," he whispered in a deep, morning-hoarse voice.

Vella was trapped.

Vella froze.

She almost forgot how to breathe with Victor pressed so closely against her, his arm still wrapped around her waist as if he had full rights over Vella's body.

Their eyes met.

Victor's sharp eyes looked softer in the morning light, but Vella knew… behind that gaze hid something deeper and more dangerous.

Why was he still here?

Vella immediately pushed against Victor's chest with all her strength.

"Get out of my room," she hissed sharply.

Instead of retreating, Victor just gave a faint smile—a smile that made Vella even more wary.

"What's the problem?" he asked casually. "We just slept, right?"

Yes… slept.

Nothing more.

Vella felt a strange sense of relief, although the fact that Victor had slept beside her all night was still something she couldn't accept.

"I'm not yours anymore, Victor," Vella said firmly, trying to establish boundaries between them.

Victor looked at her for a moment, then suddenly… he leaned forward and gently kissed Vella's cheek.

His lips were warm on Vella's skin.

Vella's eyes widened, her heart beating wildly.

"Victor—!"

The man pulled back slowly, a satisfied expression on his face.

"Of course you're not mine," he said in a tone that sounded like a subtle mockery.

Vella felt angry, but also confused.

Why did Victor always act like this? As if their relationship had never ended. As if Vella still belonged to him.

"I'm serious, Victor," Vella said again, trying to remain calm. "What you did last night… and now… it doesn't mean anything. I broke up with you, and I'm not coming back."

Victor didn't answer immediately.

He just stared at Vella… for a long time.

As if gauging how far the woman's patience would stretch before he finally destroyed her bit by bit.

Then, his lips curved into a very dangerous smile.

"Then…" his voice was low, deep, and sounded full of hidden pleasure.

"…how about we go on a honeymoon too?"

Vella's blood ran cold.

What?!

Victor propped his chin on his hand, enjoying Vella's shocked expression.

"Our parents are on their honeymoon. I thought we could do the same."

"Don't joke, Victor."

"I'm not joking," he replied lightly. "I just thought, if you keep insisting on rejecting me, maybe I should make you remember what it's like to be with me."

Vella swallowed.

She knew Victor never said anything without a reason.

And if the man had an intention… then nothing could stop him.

Vella's phone vibrated. A message appeared from an unknown number:

“You're in danger. Stay away from him. Before you truly lose everything.”

“He's not who you think he is. He... destroyed other people's lives before you.”

Her eyes widened. Her hands trembled.

And behind her, Victor pulled her into an embrace.

"Who is it?" whispered Victor, his voice sharp yet soft. "Is someone bothering you, darling?"

The mysterious message kept echoing in Vella's head. But before she could reread it, Victor took her phone. His movements were calm—too calm, making Vella's heart beat even faster.

"I'm just worried about you," he said, spinning the phone with two fingers, his eyes never leaving Vella's face. "Who would dare send a message like this, hmm?"

"Give it back to me, Victor." Vella tried to grab her phone, but the man pulled her into a hug before she could reach it.

Victor's hand landed on her back, tracing the line of her spine gently but firmly. His breath fanned her neck, warm and heavy.

"I know you're still afraid of me," he whispered. "But... isn't a part of you still wanting me?"

"Victor—"

"Shh..." His hand touched her chin, tilting her face up. "You can deny it with your mouth, but your body has always been honest with me."

Victor's gaze pierced like a knife. Deep and intense. Then his lips touched Vella's cheek—not softly, but demanding. Leaving a hot mark on her skin.

"You remember, don't you?" he whispered. "That night, before you decided to leave, I wanted to propose to you in the town square. But you... chose to run away. You were more afraid of this love, than of feeling it."

"Because your love is frightening," Vella murmured. "You want to control everything, including me."

Victor let out a long sigh, then slowly pressed Vella's body down onto the bed. But this time, something was different. The aura around him had changed. His eyes were darker, colder.

"I'm not controlling you, Vella. I... own you. It's different." His lips were now near hers. "Because you are mine. From the very beginning. Even when you decided to leave... I could still smell your perfume on the pillow."

His fingers slipped into her hair, then down to her nape, forcing her eyes to meet his gaze.

"Don't run away again, Vella," he said quietly. "Because this time, I won't let you go."

Then he kissed her. Deeply. All-encompassing. As if pouring out all the pent-up emotions from the past three years.

And even though her mind rejected it, Vella's body trembled, accepting every touch. There was fear, but also longing. There was a part of her that yearned for this embrace—the scent of Victor's skin, his breath, the gaze that once made her feel special… before everything turned into a prison.

But before the kiss could deepen, another phone notification sounded.

Victor pulled away, his eyes still red with passion and something else… something dark. He picked up the phone, reading it in silence. But the look in his eyes instantly turned threatening.

"You should stop receiving messages from people you don't know, darling. Otherwise, they might make you lose sleep..."

Vella swallowed. There was something in his tone that made her hair stand on end.

"What do you mean?"

Victor stroked her hair gently, then kissed her forehead.

"Don't worry. I'll find out who this nuisance is. And once I do... I'll make sure he can never touch you again. Not even with words."

---

Morning seeped softly through the bedroom curtains, leaving a golden hue on the walls. Vella opened her eyes slowly. The air still carried traces of Victor's cologne—a scent that was both calming and suffocating. The space beside her was empty.His pillow was still warm.

"Victor?" her voice was hoarse, hesitant. No answer. She sat up,the blanket slipping to her lap. Shadows from the previous night surfaced: Victor's tight embrace, his gaze that felt threatening yet also like real protection. Vella bit her lip, holding back a strange feeling in her chest—a mix of longing and fear.

Her footsteps led her to the living room. The house was silent, too silent. There was only a cup of still-steaming coffee on the table. Under the cup, a small, neatly folded note with Victor's handwriting: "I'll be out for a while. Don't leave the house. —V."

Vella frowned. Something felt wrong. She didn't know where Victor had gone, or why she had to stay home.

As she turned, her phone vibrated on the dining table. One new message from an unnamed number.

"Do you know who he really is?"

Her heart beat fast. She stared at the phone screen for a few seconds before typing a reply.

Who do you mean?

The reply came quickly: "Victor is not who you think he is. Look under the piano in the living room. You'll find out."

Vella swallowed. Her hands trembled as she walked to the living room. The white piano in the corner looked clean, unsuspicious. But when she bent down, there was something under it—a small black box.

The box felt cold in her hands. She opened it slowly.

Inside was a silver flash drive with the initials "V.H."

Instantly, her heart beat faster. She knew it belonged to Victor. But why was it hidden in his house? She stared at the lit laptop on the table,hesitating. Then she took a deep breath and plugged in the flash drive.

A single folder appeared on the screen, titled: Velentine. Her fingers trembled as she clicked it.Inside the folder were dozens of photos of her—candid shots, taken secretly from various places: the photo studio, her old apartment, even one at the airport when she had just returned to this city.

Vella's breath hitched. "What is this…?"

The screen suddenly changed. A single video file opened automatically. The CCTV recording showed Victor talking with an older man in a luxurious office.

"She must not know anything," Victor's voice was clear. "If she finds out, it will all be over."

Vella stared at the screen, her body trembling. "Must not know… what?" she whispered.

The front door creaked.

Vella quickly closed the laptop. Heavy footsteps approached. Her breath quickened. She knew those steps.

Victor appeared in the doorway in a dark suit, his hair slightly disheveled. His eyes immediately fixed on Vella standing in the living room, her face pale.

"Vella." His voice was flat, almost devoid of emotion. "So you're awake already."

Vella tried to smile, but her voice trembled. "You... where were you?"

Victor walked slowly, glancing around the room as if inspecting for something out of place. "A small matter at the office." He stopped right in front of Vella. "Are you okay?"

"I…" But her voice vanished when Victor's eyes landed on the laptop, where she hadn't had time to remove the flash drive.

A sudden thick silence fell between them. Victor stepped closer,close enough for Vella to hear his breath. "You… opened something that wasn't yours?" he asked softly.

His tone was calm, but its coldness was biting. Vella took a step back."I—I just found—"

Victor touched her cheek gently, but his gaze was sharp as a knife. "Sometimes curiosity is dangerous, darling."

"Victor, what does all this mean?"

A thin smile appeared on the man's lips. "Mean?" He leaned down slightly, his voice whispering in her ear. "Perhaps you aren't ready to know… who the man who has been holding you really is." Suddenly,the lights in the living room flickered, and the laptop turned off with a soft pop.

Vella flinched. Victor stared at the blackened screen, then at Vella, his expression unreadable. "You shouldn't have opened that box,"he said quietly.

"Now… everything has changed."

And before Vella could ask anything else, her phone rang on the table. The unnamed number appeared again, but this time the contact name had changed: "I know who he is."

Vella stared at the phone screen, her body trembling, while Victor only gave a faint smile, as if he had been waiting for that message all along.

The night sky was a purplish-black as Vella went down to the dining room. The large house felt too quiet; only the clinking of cutlery and the sound of slow footsteps on the marble floor could be heard.

At the head of the long table, Victor was already waiting. He wore a black shirt with the top two buttons undone, his hair still slightly damp, the scent of his woody cologne filling the air.

"Sit down," he said without looking up. His voice sounded calm, but there was something in its tone—a control that left no room for refusal.

Vella pulled out the chair opposite him. "You didn't need to go to the trouble of preparing this."

Victor glanced at her. "It was no trouble. I just wanted to have dinner with my family."

The word my family was uttered with a subtle emphasis that made it hard for Vella to swallow.

They ate in silence for several minutes. Only the sound of spoons touching plates could be heard. But Vella knew Victor was watching her with every breath she took.

"How was your day?" Victor finally asked.

"Fine," Vella answered softly. "I just stayed home like you said."

Victor nodded slowly, as if satisfied. "Good." He looked at his plate for a moment before adding, "I don't like repeating myself, Vella. I told you not to open anything in this house without my knowledge."

The spoon in Vella's hand stopped. Her breath caught in her throat. "You—you knew I opened something?" Victor's smile didn't reach his eyes."I know everything in this house." He leaned forward slightly. "Did you think I would leave something here unsupervised?"

The blood drained from Vella's face. "So you planted that flash drive on purpose?"

Victor didn't answer. He just looked at her, for a long time, with a faint smile that, strangely, wasn't malicious—more like someone enjoying a dangerous game.

"I just wanted to know," Vella said finally, trying to stay calm. "Why were there photos of me on it?"

"Because I kept them," Victor answered lightly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "I keep everything I consider important."

"Without my permission?"

"I never needed permission to remember my past."

Vella fell silent. There was a side of Victor that truly frightened her now. But on the other hand, there was something in his voice that made her chest feel tight—like nostalgia wrapped in obsession.

"Victor," she said softly, "I don't belong to you anymore."

Victor let out a short, low, almost soundless laugh. "You're right. But I never considered you merely mine, either." He stood up, walked around the table, and stopped behind her chair.

His hand touched her shoulder gently, softly but making her stiffen. "You know what made me angry back then?" he whispered near her ear. "It wasn't that you broke up with me. It was that you thought you could forget everything so easily."

Vella looked down, staring at her now-cold plate. "I had to forget you. I didn't know who you really were."

"And now you do," Victor answered in a tone that was soft yet full of meaning. "You live in my house, under my name, and the whole world knows you as my sister."

He bent down, his eyes meeting Vella's, which were trembling with restrained anger and fear. "Funny, isn't it? How fate forces us together again."

"Fate?" Vella held her breath. "You call all of this fate?"

Victor smiled. "Anything that lets me see you every day—I'll call it fate." He brushed a strand of hair from Vella's face,his fingers stopping at her neck. The touch made her breath catch.

"Victor… please stop this," she whispered.

Victor looked at her for a long time, then said quietly, "I'll only stop if you can stop making me care."

Silence.

Their eyes met, and in that silence, something almost broke. Vella wanted to stand up, but Victor had already turned away, walking towards the balcony.

"Tomorrow," he said, without looking back, "I'm introducing you to some people from the industry. I want you to return to the modeling world."

Vella stared at his back, shocked. "What? I—I'm not ready—"

"You will be," Victor interrupted. "I'll make sure you get all your contracts back. Every door that was closed to you before, I'll open again." He looked at Vella from the shadows of the balcony door. "Just… this time, you'll be walking under my name."

The sound of the night outside was quiet.

Vella knew she had just entered a game far deeper than she realized. And behind Victor's cold smile,something was waiting to explode.

As Victor left the room, Vella's phone vibrated in her lap. A new message came from that mysterious number again: "Don't trust anything he offers you. The world he's opening for you isn't the same as before."

Vella stared at the screen, then at the door where Victor had just disappeared. For the first time, she truly didn't know if that man was saving her… or leading her into a trap of his own making.

---

The afternoon air smelled sweet—like garden flowers blooming after the rain. From her bedroom balcony, Vella could hear her mother's laughter downstairs, warm and light.

They were finally home.

After two weeks of honeymoon, the house, which had been quiet, was now bustling again. But for Vella, the sound was no longer comforting; it made her chest feel heavy. Because along with that sound, one sentence had been hanging in her head since morning.

"You'll be walking under my name."

Victor's words. A threat, a promise, or both—she didn't know.

Her bedroom door was knocked on twice.

"Vella?" her mother's voice called.

Vella quickly wiped her face and opened the door. "Mama…"

The woman smiled brightly, hugging her tightly. "You look thinner. You're eating properly, right?"

"Yes, Ma."

Her mother stepped into the room, her eyes warm and shining. "Victor is downstairs too. Your father and I want to talk. We're attending a big family event tomorrow night. The whole family will be there—and of course, you two must come as well."

Vella swallowed. "A family… event?"

"Yes. From your stepfather's side of the family. It's big, formal, and very important. You two need to look harmonious, so there's no strange gossip."

Vella just nodded.

Harmonious.

The word echoed in her head. That night,before bed, Vella knocked on Victor's door. She knew she had to talk.

The door opened, revealing Victor in casual clothes. "What is it?"

"Did you hear about the event tomorrow?"

Victor leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. "Of course. I've even prepared the digital invitations."

"We have to look normal," Vella said quickly. "Like regular siblings. I don't want Mama to suspect anything." Victor's eyebrow raised slightly."Normal?"

"Yes."

He gave a thin smile, an unreadable expression. "If that's what you want, we'll look very… normal."

His tone was too calm, too soft, to not be suspicious.

---