Chapter 4:

POV : Arrabella

My hand tightened around the handle of the fabric suitcase resting on the marble floor.

Its wheels creaked softly as I dragged it past the shredded pieces of the divorce papers still scattered near the sofa.

I no longer cared about Michael’s arrogance.

If he refused to sign them now, I would ask the orphanage’s lawyer to handle the matter through legal means.

I had to leave today.

Just as my foot reached the first step leading toward the front door, a rough grip closed around my wrist.

“Let go, Michael!” I shouted, trying to shake his hand off.

Michael said nothing.

Instead of releasing me, he slipped one arm beneath my knees and the other behind my back.

In one swift movement, my body was lifted into the air.

He carried me by force.

“Michael, what are you doing?! Put me down!” I yelled, pounding my fists against his broad chest.

My struggle did nothing to slow his steady strides as he carried me back upstairs toward the master bedroom.

Bang!

The bedroom door was kicked open and then slammed shut just as roughly.

Michael strode toward the king-sized bed and tossed me onto it without the slightest hint of gentleness.

The mattress bounced beneath me, making my head spin slightly.

“Where are you going, Ara?” Michael asked.

His voice was low, hoarse, and filled with menace.

He immediately caged me in, bracing both hands beside my head, leaving me no room to escape.

“Away from your life! Away from this hell!” I shouted.

My breath caught in my throat as I saw the furious redness in his eyes.

I truly could not understand his behavior.

Why had he become so rough and possessive?

The way he acted today was completely different from that night two years ago—the first night after a year of our dull marriage when he had finally touched me as a husband should.

That night, Michael had been incredibly gentle and patient, as though he were afraid of hurting me, even though he returned to acting normal the next day.

But now?

The man standing before me looked like a stranger possessed by vengeance.

“I already told you,” Michael hissed. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Before I could reply, he lowered his face abruptly.

His lips silenced mine in a rough, demanding kiss filled with explosive emotion.

The scent of mint mixed with his strong cologne overwhelmed my senses.

I tried to resist and turn away, but his hand quickly gripped my jaw, forcing me to endure his relentless assault.

“Mmhh... Mi... chael...” I gasped between the forced kisses.

Every touch Michael gave me seemed to burn my skin.

Tears streamed from the corners of my eyes, dampening the pillow, yet my body betrayed my own mind.

Every time his warm fingers brushed against me, I lost the strength to resist.

The invisible bond forged over three years made my body respond to his touch as though I had been created solely to belong to him.

My coat fell to the floor.

The cold room suddenly transformed into a suffocating sea of fire.

For the first time in our three years of marriage, Michael crossed every boundary he had previously maintained between us.

There were no barriers left.

His actions carried a demanding intensity, ignoring every small sob that escaped my lips, as though he were trying to carve an undeniable mark of possession upon me so that I could never step beyond the line he had drawn.

Two hours passed in exhausting silence.

The room now smelled of sweat and despair.

Michael lay beside me, sleeping deeply from exhaustion.

His breathing was steady, rising and falling peacefully against the tangled sheets.

Slowly, I sat up and pulled the blanket around myself.

My eyes stared blankly at the ceiling as I mourned my own foolishness for surrendering once again to the same man.

Bzzzt... Bzzzt... Bzzzt...

The vibration of a phone on the nightstand beside Michael shattered the silence.

I glanced toward the illuminated screen.

The name “Sophia” flashed repeatedly.

I turned to look at Michael, who remained completely undisturbed in his deep sleep.

Moving carefully so as not to wake the sleeping lion, I reached out and picked up my husband’s phone.

My fingers trembled briefly before sliding the green button to answer.

I pressed the phone to my ear without saying a word.

“Michael? Have you finished dealing with that woman?”

Sophia’s voice immediately came through the line.

Her tone was no longer sweet and affectionate like it had been in the living room.

It sounded sharp and certain.

I remained silent, holding my breath.

“Michael, listen to me,” Sophia continued, believing she was speaking to him. “I know why you refused to divorce Ara right now. You did it on purpose, didn’t you? You want revenge on her for what she did three years ago.”

Thump.

My heart seemed to stop beating.

Every joint in my body suddenly turned weak.

“You’re deliberately keeping her in that house just to hurt her little by little, aren’t you?”

Sophia chuckled softly, a laugh that sounded horrifying to my ears.

“I know how your mind works, Michael. And I agree with your method. I’ll patiently wait here until you’re satisfied with destroying her. Ara is evil. She used the orphanage to separate us back then. She deserves every bit of that pain.”

Beep.

I immediately ended the call with trembling fingers.

The phone slipped from my grasp and landed softly on the bed.

My world collapsed.

It shattered into countless pieces that could never be put back together.

Oh.

So now I knew.

I finally understood the reason behind his furious outburst and absolute refusal in the living room earlier.

Tears flowed again without restraint, streaming down my pale cheeks.

I clutched my chest, which felt unbearably tight, as though all the oxygen in the room had vanished.

Silent sobs escaped my constricted throat.

Fool.

I truly was the most foolish woman in the world.

A few hours ago, when he tore up the divorce papers and looked at me with that flash of anger in his eyes, a ridiculous thought had crossed my mind.

For a moment, I had believed...

Maybe, just maybe, there was a little love or attachment that made Michael unwilling to let me go.

I had thought my husband might feel the same way.

It turned out I was completely wrong.

His refusal had nothing to do with love.

It was driven by the vengeance burning inside him.

He was keeping me here only to make me a target for his resentment because he believed I had driven Sophia away three years ago.

He wanted to destroy my heart and mind as revenge.

I turned and looked at Michael’s sleeping face beside me.

The face I had once adored now looked like a deadly chain ready to strangle me at any moment.

Everything that had happened earlier... all of it felt like part of his cruel plan to keep me trapped within a circle of suffering.

I wiped away my tears harshly, transforming them into a determination as cold as ice.

The pain in my body was nothing compared to the devastation inside my chest.

“Fine, Michael,” I whispered into the darkness of the room.

My voice was hoarse, yet sharp.

“If this is the game you want to play, I refuse to be your toy.”

Slowly, I lowered my feet to the floor, ignoring the ache spreading through my body.

I put my scattered clothes back on one by one.

It was time for me to leave.

This time, nothing would stop me.

Not Michael.

Not even the entire world.

I would never allow anyone to keep me trapped in this hell again.

POV Arrabella

Chapter 5

My trembling feet descended the staircase one step at a time, ignoring the pain radiating throughout my entire body. I hugged my sling bag tightly against my chest while my right hand firmly gripped the handle of my fabric suitcase, which suddenly felt several times heavier than before. The bedroom upstairs that I had just left behind felt like a cage that had run out of air.

At the foot of the staircase, Donna Cooper and Felix Siauw Cooper were still standing there. They stood upright, watching me with eyes filled with profound concern.

"Arrabella, sweetheart? Where are you going now?" Donna asked, her voice trembling as she hurried over to block my path. Her cold fingers immediately wrapped around my wrist, stopping the suitcase I was about to drag toward the front door.

"I have to leave, Mom," I replied, my voice hoarse, nearly gone from all the tears I had been holding back.

"Why are you being so stubborn, Arrabella?" Felix interrupted in his deep baritone voice as he stepped forward with a deeply furrowed brow. "Isn't it already obvious? Michael tore up those papers. He's not going to divorce you. He's keeping you here because he wants you to remain his wife!"

A faint smile tugged at my lips, a bitter smile that hurt far more than crying ever could.

I wanted to scream right in front of them, to repeat every single word Sophia had said over the phone just a few minutes ago. I wanted to tell them that their beloved son wasn't keeping me here because he loved me, but because of the deep resentment he wanted to use to slowly destroy me from the inside.

But my tongue suddenly refused to move.

What was the point?

Even if I told them everything, it would only drag this exhausting drama on even longer.

"My decision is final, Mom... Dad," I said quietly, slowly shaking my head as I tried to free my arm from Donna's grip. "This marriage is no longer healthy. I can't stay here any longer."

"Arrabella, for your father and me, please think this through—" Donna pleaded, tears beginning to well up in her eyes.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

The sound of hurried footsteps coming down the staircase abruptly cut Donna's words short.

I instinctively turned around.

Michael descended the stairs wearing a black shirt with the top buttons undone. His hair was slightly disheveled, and his bloodshot eyes locked onto me like a predator that had caught its prey trying to escape its cage.

"Where do you think you're going, Arrabella?!" Michael roared, his voice echoing throughout the spacious living room.

"Let me go, Michael! Don't touch me!" I screamed hysterically as he reached me in an instant, snatched the suitcase from my hand, and threw it aside so carelessly that it slammed into a decorative vase.

"Michael! Stop!" Felix shouted, trying to grab his son's shoulder.

But Michael seemed to have completely lost his reason.

Before I could even take a step back, his strong arm slid beneath my body once again. He lifted me off the ground by force and threw me over his shoulder as though I weighed nothing at all.

"Michael! Put me down! I hate you! Put me down!" I cried, pounding my fists against his back with every ounce of strength I had left. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face, soaking the fabric of his shirt.

"Michael Cooper! What are you doing to your wife?! Put her down!" Donna shouted as she tried to chase after us, but Michael's strides were far too fast.

He carried me back upstairs with steady, unwavering footsteps, completely ignoring my screams and the curses echoing throughout the hallway.

Bang!

For the second time, he kicked open the master bedroom door before locking it from the inside with a sharp click that extinguished every last bit of hope I had left.

Michael dropped me onto the long sofa in the corner of the room.

I immediately got to my feet, breathing heavily as I glared at him, my chest rising and falling with overwhelming anger.

"Why, Michael?! Why are you doing this to me?!" I shouted, my voice piercing through the silence of the bedroom. "Tell me! Why are you keeping me here when you've never wanted me?! What have I ever done to you?!"

Michael stood motionless in front of the locked door.

He calmly straightened his wrinkled shirt collar before looking at me with eyes that were unimaginably cold, flat, and empty.

There wasn't the slightest trace of guilt.

Nor was there any warmth left in those eyes.

"Be the obedient Young Mrs. Cooper, Arrabella," Michael said in a low, emotionless voice that was intimidating down to the bone. "That's all you need to do."

"That's all?!" I let out a hollow laugh as tears streamed freely down my numb cheeks. "You lock me in here, treat me like a prisoner, and that's all you have to say? I'm sick of this, Michael! I'm sick of all your madness! I want to leave!"

Michael didn't answer.

He walked toward the bed and picked up the phone lying on top of the mattress, completely ignoring my outburst. Just then, the phone vibrated once again. The screen lit up, displaying the same name.

Sophia.

Michael swiped across the screen, answered the call, and held the phone to his ear. Since we were standing only a short distance apart in the silent bedroom, I could faintly hear Sophia's voice through the receiver.

"Michael... why did you suddenly hang up on me earlier?" Sophia asked from the other end of the line, her voice sounding both confused and slightly pouty.

Michael frowned, his eyes briefly flickering toward me before lowering to the floor.

"What do you mean?" he asked flatly.

"Hic... Michael..."

Suddenly, Sophia broke down into tears. Her sobs sounded so fragile, so desperately in need of protection.

"Could you come to my apartment right now? I... I'm scared to be alone, Michael. My head hurts so much... hic... I don't know who else I can ask for help in this city except you..."

I squeezed my eyes shut the moment I heard her words.

It felt as though an invisible sledgehammer had slammed into my chest, leaving behind an unbearable ache that made it difficult to breathe.

Michael let out a short sigh, his jaw tightening for a brief moment.

His gaze shifted back to me—a look that seemed to be weighing something I couldn't possibly understand.

But only a second later, he spoke into the phone again.

"Okay. I'll be there," Michael said firmly, putting an end to his own hesitation.

Beep.

The call ended.

Michael slipped his phone into his trouser pocket before walking toward the bedroom door without saying a single word to me.

He unlocked the door, opened it, and walked out just like that, leaving me trapped once again in a silence that crushed my soul.

My body slowly collapsed onto the cold marble floor.

I buried my face between my knees as the sobs I had been holding back finally burst free, echoing mournfully throughout the corner of the room.

I closed my eyes, allowing the heartbreak to seep into the deepest corners of my soul.

Sophia's words from the earlier phone call began replaying over and over in my mind like a broken record.

"You're keeping her in that house on purpose just to torment her... She deserves every bit of that pain."

I clutched my chest as an unbearable ache spread through it.

Now, every suspicion I had was completely confirmed.

There was no room left for denial.

Michael was keeping me here and refusing to sign the divorce papers for one reason alone—he wanted revenge.

He wanted to turn me into an invisible prisoner inside this house, torturing my mind day after day with Sophia's presence as punishment for a past that had never even been my fault.

His rough touch just a few hours ago...

His refusal to let me go in front of his parents...

Every single one of those actions was part of the carefully designed maze of revenge he had built.

And I...

I had been foolish enough to believe there was still a trace of love left in his heart.

I roughly wiped the tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand.

My sobs gradually subsided, replaced by an icy emptiness reflected in my eyes.

"So... you want to play with my heart and my mind, Michael?" I murmured, my voice hoarse and trembling in the suffocating silence of the room.

I slowly lifted my head and stared at the tightly closed bedroom door with eyes as cold as ice.

"Then let's see... who will be the one to break inside the prison you've created."

POV : Arrabella

I didn't know how many hours I had been locked inside this room. The bedroom that used to be a silent witness to how I always waited for Michael’s return with a hopeful heart had now officially turned into the most disgusting prison cell. The air around me felt thinner, as if the luxurious walls in this room were slowly moving closer to crush me to death.

"Bastard. Selfish. Insane!" I cursed harshly, spitting those words toward the tightly locked door.

My voice sounded hoarse, echoing strangely in the quiet corners of the room. My hands clenched so hard that my nails turned white and dug into my palms. That physical pain meant absolutely nothing compared to the humiliation burning in my chest.

Michael was truly gone. He left his wife, whom he had just forced on the bed, only to run and meet another woman who was crying like a spoiled brat on the other end of the phone. And ironically, he locked me in here as if I were his property that no one else could touch, while he was free to roam around peddling his body and heart to Sophia.

*Bzzz... Bzzz...*

My phone, lying on the carpet, vibrated again. Ever since Michael walked out of this house, that damn thing hadn't stopped ringing. I knew exactly who was sending the messages. Who else could it be but my husband's idolized holy woman?

With heavy steps and a heart pounding fast with rage, I picked up the phone. The screen lit up, displaying a series of incoming messages from Sophia’s number. Initially, I intended to ignore it, but my fingers seemed to have a will of their own to open the chat room.

As soon as the screen opened, my eyes were immediately greeted by a succession of high-resolution photos.

The first photo showed Sophia’s long neck. There, on her white skin, several fresh reddish spots were clearly printed. A very familiar mark of ownership.

My heart felt as if it had been hit by a sledgehammer; it felt so suffocating that I had to open my mouth to gasp for air.

Before I could calm myself down, the second photo appeared. This time the angle was lower, focusing on Sophia’s cleavage which was intentionally flaunted behind her slipping nightgown. And there, right on her smooth skin, was the same red mark. A mark very clearly left by an intense and passionate kiss.

Below those photos, a short text message followed:

*“Michael really missed me, Ara. He did it very roughly tonight, as if he wanted to erase his three lost years with me. You see this mark? He said this is proof that I am the only woman who has the right over his body and love.”*

"Fuck!"

Without realizing it, I screamed harshly and threw the phone with all my might against the marble wall. The poor object hit hard, its screen instantly shattering into a thousand cracks and the body of the phone splitting in two before falling pathetically to the floor.

I gasped, holding my chest which was rising and falling wildly. The tears of anger that I had been holding back all this time finally spilled over, wetting my cheeks which felt hot.

Until when? Until when did I have to stay silent and accept all this humiliation? Until when did I have to let myself be mentally tortured by that pair of demonic humans?

"You think I will die slowly here, Michael? You think I will cry begging for your mercy?" I whispered softly, staring at the shattered phone on the floor with a blank gaze.

Damn it. Why did I have to cry over a man like that? A man who didn't even have a single shred of conscience.

Now, all the pieces of this confusing puzzle had fallen perfectly into place. I no longer needed to look for reasons or justifications for Michael’s harsh and possessive attitude today. The main reason why he locked me in this house, refused to sign the divorce papers, and treated me like a criminal was not because he still wanted me as his wife.

All of this was purely out of revenge.

Michael had completely swallowed all of Sophia’s fabricated stories. He believed the cheap drama created by that woman, as if I were the evil mastermind who forced Sophia to go to Europe three years ago with a suicide threat. In Michael’s eyes, I was a cunning woman who used the orphanage to usurp her position as the bride.

He felt I had snatched away his happiness with his first love. And now, after Sophia returned and brought that fake story, Michael launched his revenge action. He wanted me to pay for every second of suffering he felt during these three years. He wanted to lock me inside the labyrinth of pain he created himself, letting me witness his closeness with Sophia until my soul was shattered with nothing left.

I hugged myself, feeling my body trembling violently. Not because of the cold, but because of an extreme sense of disgust. The man with whom I spent my entire childhood, the man I always protected in the dark hallways of the orphanage when we were still poor and had nothing, had now turned into the monster who most wanted to destroy me.

Suddenly, a soft knock on the door broke the silence of the room.

"Ara? Sweetheart, it's Mom. Are you inside?"

It was Dona’s voice. Her voice sounded very anxious and tired.

I wiped my tears harshly using the back of my hand, trying to stabilize my voice so I wouldn't sound like a woman who had just been broken. I walked closer to the door but did not open it. Besides, the key was taken by Michael from the outside.

"I'm inside, Mom," I said in a tone as flat as possible.

"Oh my God, Ara... Mom heard a loud impact earlier. You're okay, right? You didn't hurt yourself, did you, Sweetheart?" Dona’s voice sounded panicked behind the thick door leaf.

I smiled bitterly. Hurt myself? For what? Just for a bastard like Michael? Never again.

"I'm fine, Mom. Just my phone fell," I lied. "Mom doesn't need to worry."

A heavy sigh was heard from outside. "Michael is really too much. Dad is trying to contact the family lawyer to find a way to open this door without having to force the lock, but Michael changed the security system this afternoon. I'm sorry, Ara... Mom is incompetent at raising that boy."

Hearing the sincerity in Dona’s voice, my heart softened a little. During these three years, my in-laws were the only reason why I felt I had a real family after leaving the orphanage. They treated me like their own biological child, completely opposite to the cold and indifferent attitude shown by Michael.

"This is not Mom's fault," I said softly, leaning my forehead against the cold surface of the door. "Mom doesn't need to apologize for the mistakes made by an adult man who can already think for himself. Michael knows exactly what he's doing."

"Ara... please hold on, okay, Sweetheart? Dad and Mom will make sure Michael gets his lesson after he comes home later. He cannot treat you like this."

"He won't come home tonight, Mom," I cut in quickly, letting a bitter tone slip into every word.

"What do you mean? He went to see that bitch again?" Dona’s voice turned sharp, filled with anger directed at Sophia.

"Yes. And he might be very happy right now," I said, imagining the red marks on Sophia’s body that I had just stared at through the phone screen. It felt like throwing up every time that image crossed my brain. "So, Mom and Dad better just rest. Don't waste energy taking care of us."

"But Ara—"

"Please, Mom. I want to be alone for a while," I said in a final tone, pleading with them to give me space.

The atmosphere outside the door suddenly went silent for a few moments, before finally Dona’s footsteps were heard fading away reluctantly.

After making sure there was no one left in front of the door, I walked backward and dropped myself onto the floor, right next to the shattered pieces of my phone. I stared at the cracked screen. Even though it was completely dead, the shadow of the lipstick stain on Michael’s clothes this afternoon and the photos from Sophia tonight seemed permanently printed inside my memory.

I clenched my fists, staring straight ahead with a gaze that no longer radiated sadness. My tears had completely dried up. The pain that last night made me want to die had now mutated into something far more dangerous.

Something cold, hard, and unwavering.

"You want to play games with me using revenge as an excuse, Michael?" I whispered to the darkness of the night that was starting to creep in through the window slit. "You want to see how far I can endure under your torture?"

I stood up slowly, ignoring the remaining pain in my body due to his harsh treatment a few hours ago. I walked toward the large mirror in the corner of the room, staring at my own reflection there. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen and red, but behind all that disheveled physical appearance, there was a new glint in my eyes. A glint filled with hatred and absolute determination.

I was no longer the weak Ara, who would kneel crying begging for mercy from him. If he thought this confinement would make me beg him not to leave me for Sophia, then he was dead wrong.

"Go ahead and enjoy your night with that woman, Michael," I muttered while tidying my hair in front of the mirror, a cold smile now etched on my lips.

"Let's see, when you come home later and find your cage empty, whether you can still stand with the same arrogance. I swear, today is the last day I let myself be trampled by you. From this very second, I am the one who will take control over my own life."