The night wind slipped through the tall dining room window, brushing against the silence that lingered in the air. Candles flickered gently on the table, but to Bella, their light felt like torches of torment, burning only to illuminate the wounds inside her.
"I… I'm not hungry tonight, Mr. Edward," Bella murmured softly, barely more than a whisper.
Her voice trembled, not from hunger, but from nausea. Not at the food, but at the man standing before her. A man who called her his wife, yet treated her with the crushing grip of domination.
Edward's face tensed. The forced smile he usually wore vanished, replaced by a cold, hard line along his jaw. He didn't take rejection well, especially not from a woman he believed he had bought.
"What did you just say?"
Bella lowered her gaze. She didn't answer.
Suddenly, Edward's hand seized her waist. Harshly. He yanked her closer, forcing her to breathe in the scent of him, expensive cologne, luxury, and the rotting stench of cruelty beneath his tailored shirt.
"I told you, Bella… I don't tolerate disobedience. Least of all from my own wife," Edward hissed. "Look at me. Look me in the eyes when you defy me."
He gripped her chin, jerking her face upward. Their eyes locked. His were dark, gleaming with threat. Hers were glossy, hollow, like a broken doll.
Bella tried to turn away, but Edward's hold only grew tighter. Without warning, he grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the dining table. Her steps faltered,her evening gown was too long, her knees buckled. Edward didn't care. He only wanted to eat dinner, on his terms.
"Let me go… please…" Bella pleaded weakly, her body too tired to resist.
Their footsteps drew the attention of a woman standing in the corner, Grace. The older maid who had served Bella from the beginning. Who had watched, helpless, as wound after wound carved into her mistress's soul. Tonight, her heart cracked.
"Forgive me, Mr. Edward," Grace said quietly but firmly. "But Miss Bella is exhausted. Perhaps… it would be best if.."
Edward stopped in his tracks.
Every servant in the room froze, their breath caught in their throats. Edward's eyes turned slowly, like a predator spotting a mouse in its nest.
"And who do you think you are to interrupt me?"
Grace swallowed hard. She knew this was madness. But silence too long held could murder a conscience. And tonight, she chose her voice.
"I just… pity her, sir. The woman you call your wife, yet treat worse than a prisoner. If you do not love her, at least… do not keep hurting her like this. She is human…"
"You think I need lectures from a maid?" Edward snapped, eyes blazing. "Do you know who pays your salary? Who lets you stand here, breathing, today?"
"But you're killing her soul every day, sir…"
"Enough!"
Bella stumbled as her foot caught the edge of her dress. She fell hard. Grace rushed forward to help, but Edward's swift, violent movement made everyone freeze. His hand reached into his pocket.
"No… Mr. Edward… please don't.."
A gunshot split the air.
One bullet.
One body crumpled to the floor.
Grace's eyes were still open as blood pooled beneath her, dark against the white marble.
She didn't scream. She just… fell.
And went still.
Bella screamed.
The world shattered inside her head.
"Grace!!!"
Edward stared down at the lifeless body with a cold, blank expression. Then turned. His gaze swept across the maids and bodyguards, all now trembling.
"Who's next?" he said, voice icy. "Who else wants to lecture me?"
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Silence reigned. Chilling. Absolute.
Bella remained on the floor, her sobs caught in her throat, eyes still locked on Grace's corpse.
Her soul collapsed.
This was the real world.
A world where a man could kill without consequence, because he was rich… because he held power.
"Take the body out," Edward ordered casually. "And clean up the blood before I lose my appetite."
A few servants moved forward to drag Grace's body away. Bella crawled, trying to reach her, but Edward stepped on the edge of her gown.
"You will have dinner with me… now."
The voice was flat, but the threat in it was sharper than any blade. Edward yanked Bella's arm with force, not caring that she was still trembling in fear, not caring that her body was covered in wounds, not even caring that her soul had just been ripped apart by the sight of Grace, the only woman who had ever shown her kindness, being murdered right in front of her.
"Mr. Edward… please… I can't eat right now," Bella whispered, her voice barely audible, smothered by nausea and shock that refused to fade.
"I wasn't asking if you could. I gave you an order, Bella."
Edward dragged a chair out harshly and shoved her down by the shoulder. His grip on her wrist was so tight, it was as if the bones in her arm were nothing more than twigs he could snap whenever he pleased.
"I really can't swallow anything tonight, Sir… I can still see her blood on that floor…" Bella's voice cracked, her body convulsing in panic.
But Edward only smirked coldly. He picked up a silver spoon and dipped it into the steaming soup in front of them.
"Come. Open your mouth. You will eat. Now."
Bella shook her head slowly. Tears began to fall one by one, landing on her trembling knees.
"If you refuse one more time…" Edward lowered the spoon and stood up. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pistol he had just put away after shooting Grace dead.
He raised it, not at Bella, but at the maids standing frozen in the corner of the room, their faces as pale as the tablecloth.
"You have two choices, Bella. Sit nicely and have dinner with me… or watch these maids die one by one. Just like that sanctimonious old woman. I have no problem soaking my hands in fresh blood tonight."
"Please, sir… no… don't…"
"One more word, and I'll pull this trigger. Don't ruin my dinner. I'm hungry, Bella. Very hungry."
Bella looked up. Her eyes swept over the terrified faces of the maids, some were silently crying, others pleading with her through their gaze. They were just ordinary women doing their jobs. They had never hurt her. A few of them had even secretly slipped her bandages or clean cloths for her wounds.
Her heart shattered.
"All right… I'll eat. Please… just put the gun down…"
Edward's smile widened. He looked like a beast that had just claimed his prey.
"Not just sit. You'll eat whatever I eat. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir. I'll eat anything… just don't hurt them…"
Edward finally sat back down. He picked up the fallen spoon, wiped it on the napkin, then dipped it again into the bowl. This time, he brought it to Bella's lips slowly, as if savoring her fear.
"Come on. Open your mouth. The first bite of many tonight."
With trembling hands, Bella obeyed. The salty soup entered her mouth like fire. She chewed slowly, feeling nothing but revulsion and bitterness in her throat. She forced herself to swallow.
And in that moment, her tears streamed down, unchecked.
Edward scooped up another spoonful.
"Good. Very good. See? We can be a lovely dinner couple… as long as you don't defy me."
Bella said nothing. She opened her mouth again.
And each bite that followed became a torment, not because of the taste, but because with every chew, Bella knew one thing:
She was no longer human.
She had become a puppet.
A breathing object that must obey… or watch more blood spill onto the floor if she dared to resist.
***