The knife incident had left Evelina shaken in ways she couldn't fully describe. Every time her eyes strayed toward the silverware on the dining table, her wrist ached with the phantom of Kairo's grip. His touch had been brief, yet it branded itself into her skin, as if he had written his ownership across her flesh.
Since then, she had been eating—if one could call it eating. Each bite of food stuck in her throat like glass. She chewed slowly, swallowed reluctantly, her stomach knotting itself tighter with every mouthful. She did it not out of hunger, but because he demanded it.
Across from her, Kairo leaned back in his chair, his posture elegant, his steel-grey eyes studying her with the same detached interest one might grant a painting. He drank his wine slowly, savoring it, and with each sip Evelina felt as if he savored her humiliation too.
Silence stretched. Only the faint clink of cutlery against porcelain filled the massive hall. Evelina's hands trembled as she lifted another forkful of food, forcing it past her lips.
Kairo's laugh cut the silence like a knife. Low, dangerous, amused.
"Evelina," he drawled, her name rolling off his tongue with deliberate weight. "Don't you want to watch something interesting?"
Her fork froze midair. Her heart skipped a beat. Slowly, she lowered her eyes to her plate, as though if she ignored him, the question would vanish.
But it didn't. His laugh deepened, echoing in the vast dining hall, until her resistance collapsed under the weight of his presence.
Her voice came out a whisper, trembling and fractured. "W… what is it?"
He set down his glass, leaning forward, elbows resting on the table. His eyes glimmered with cruel anticipation. With a flick of his fingers, one of the servants hurried forward, carrying a sleek black tablet.
Kairo accepted it without breaking his gaze on her. He tapped the screen, and a video began to play.
Evelina's breath caught.
Her father.
She saw him clearly, sitting in a leather chair inside a luxurious villa she had never seen before. The camera angle shifted, revealing a lavish spread of food, champagne bubbling in crystal flutes, gold watches glittering on his wrist. He laughed with other men—men Evelina didn't know—his voice carefree, his belly full, his cheeks flushed with wine.
Her hand flew to her mouth. "No…"
The screen zoomed in slightly, capturing the grin on her father's face as he accepted a cigar from one of the men. He puffed it with exaggerated pleasure, smoke curling around him like a crown. Every movement screamed indulgence. Every detail screamed betrayal.
"Do you recognize him?" Kairo asked, though the answer was already written in her pale face.
Tears pricked at Evelina's eyes. "That's… no… That can't—"
Kairo chuckled, silencing her denial. "Ah, but it is. Your father. Enjoying luxury that my money bought him."
He tilted the screen toward her again, as if daring her to look away.
Her father raised a glass of champagne, toasting with the others. The camera caught his words clearly: "To new beginnings, eh? Money well spent!"
Evelina's chest tightened until she could hardly breathe. Her fork clattered onto her plate, food forgotten.
Kairo's voice was silk lined with venom. "How funny, don't you think? They sold their daughter. Sold you. And look—" He gestured toward the tablet. "They're celebrating. They're laughing. They're fattened pigs feasting on the blood price they placed on your head."
Her tears finally spilled, hot trails down her cheeks. She shook her head violently, as if she could deny what her eyes had just seen.
"No… no, he wouldn't…" Her voice broke. "He wouldn't sell me… I'm his daughter…"
Kairo leaned closer, his eyes glinting. "Still the foolish one. Still pretending there's an ounce of love in that man's heart. You try to escape this mansion as though home is waiting for you. Do you understand now? There is no home. Not for you."
Her body trembled. She wanted to scream, to shatter the tablet, to erase the image of her father's smug, laughing face. But she couldn't move. Every muscle in her body was frozen with the weight of truth.
Kairo's tone grew sharper, crueler. "And yet you cry all day long. Cry for what? For them?" He sneered, disgust dripping from every word. "Do you know what I see when I watch you? Pathetic. A girl who refuses to face reality. Do you think your tears will buy you freedom? Do you think weeping will change the fact that they sold you like cattle?"
Evelina's sobs came silent now, each breath shuddering, her chest rising and falling in painful rhythm.
Kairo leaned back, satisfied, swirling the last of his wine before finishing it in a single swallow. His lips curved into a smirk. "How better I am, just imagine. At least I gave you velvet walls instead of chains in a cellar. At least you are mine, and not rotting in some gutter. That's the difference between me and them."
Evelina stopped eating. Her appetite had dissolved into ashes. She stared at the tablet still glowing on the table, her father's laughter looping in the background, mocking her with every frame.
For once, she didn't cry out loud. She didn't scream or beg. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, her lips pressed into a tight line.
And then, the strangest thing happened. A broken, fragile smile curved across her face. A smile that was half a mask, half a crack in her soul.
She forced her voice steady, though it shook with every word. "Can I… go to my room? I want to take a shower. If you allow me to…"
The request hung in the air like a fragile thread.
Kairo tilted his head, studying her as though she were a puzzle he hadn't yet solved. He let the silence stretch, let her tremble beneath his gaze. Finally, with a careless wave of his hand, he answered.
"You may go."
Evelina rose from her chair, her movements stiff, mechanical. She didn't look at him. She didn't look at the tablet. She simply walked away, her footsteps echoing against the marble floor until the heavy doors of the dining hall closed behind her.
The video still played in the silence she left behind. Her father's laughter filled the room like a ghost.
Kairo smirked to himself, pouring another glass of wine.
The game was only beginning.
To be continued...