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Chapter_31
Quinn’s heart thudded painfully in her chest as Alexander’s words sank in. She felt suffocated by his presence, his touch, his words. They were hollow, devoid of warmth, just a cruel repetition of what he expected her to be. He was asking her to remain in a state of perpetual dependence, a captive to his whims, his authority, as if nothing had changed.
She met his gaze again, her eyes wet with tears that she refused to wipe away. The sting of humiliation burned, sharper than the cold wind that whipped around them. “You’re my little friend,” he had said. The words were suffocating, like a chain wrapping around her throat, leaving her breathless.
How could he not see it? How could he not realize that she wasn’t the same scared little girl anymore? That she had grown, had learned, had fought to find herself outside of him? Yet here he was, treating her like she was still his little pet, the one he could control with a few sweet words, as if he could still command her loyalty without ever understanding her pain.
She tried to pull away, but his arms held her tight, his hold possessive and unyielding. “You don’t understand,” she wanted to scream, but her silence only served to make her feel even more invisible, more insignificant. Her heart ached with a depth she hadn’t known was possible. Her body trembled with the weight of her own helplessness.
The bitterness of the moment wrapped around her like a dark cloud. Her hands clenched into fists, and though she wanted to push him away, to make him see her, to make him realize how badly she was hurting, she couldn’t. He wouldn’t listen. He never would.
“Grown up?” she had said, trying to make him understand. But even as she tried to assert herself, she felt like a child once more in his eyes. “Then it’s even less appropriate to cry.” His voice was calm, detached, almost mocking.
It was as if everything she had become, everything she had fought to build, meant nothing. She was nothing. A mere afterthought in his world of control and manipulation.
Quinn closed her eyes, her body sagging in defeat. She wanted to scream, to break free, but the fear of losing everything that had once been familiar held her back. She didn’t know what it would take to make him see her as something more than a possession, a quiet, obedient thing that existed only for him.
“Why can’t you let me go?” she finally managed to sign, her hands trembling as they formed the words.
Alexander didn’t answer. He only held her tighter, his grip tightening as if to remind her that she belonged to him. He always had. She would always be his, no matter how much she changed, no matter how much she fought.
The tears streamed down her face in silence as she realized with a crushing finality that there was no escape. There was no love here. No freedom. Only the cold, unyielding grasp of someone who would never let her go—not because he loved her, but because he never truly saw her as anything more than a piece of his own possession.
And in that moment, Quinn understood something terrifying. She would never be free, not while he was there, always in the shadows, watching, controlling, holding her tight. Her soul would remain trapped, and she would never know the kind of love she craved.
But she wouldn’t beg, she told herself. She couldn’t. Even if it meant leaving him behind—leaving everything behind—she would never beg for a love that wasn’t real.
