PROJECTION OF ANGER
___Brayen Mallen's POV__
The cold, cruel morning sunlight pierced through the luxurious curtains, forcing its way into the room. The light did not feel warm; instead, it stung my retina.
My head felt like it was splitting the remnant whiskey from last night still tasted bitter on my tongue, and the throbbing in my temples sang a painful tune.
I opened my eyes. I was still naked beneath the thick, warm satin duvet. The air in the suite was silent and heavy, as if an invisible stain enveloped all the luxury.
I turned my head. Chiella was nowhere to be seen in the vast room.
I rose, grabbing the silk pajamas draped over the chaise lounge near the bed. As I stood, my gaze accidentally fell upon the velvet sofa the silent witness to my savagery last night.
The sofa looked rumpled; the torn wedding dress was gone, but the indentations and stains on the fabric were physical proof of the sin that occurred. I looked away. This was the thing I hated most.
I walked quickly toward the large window facing the garden. I unlocked it, letting the cold, fresh morning air hit my face, trying to clear the lingering scent of lust from my skin.
From the height, my eyes swept the backyard. I heard the quiet gurgle of water from the koi pond. And there, at the edge of the shaded pond, she was.
Chiella.
She sat on the marble stone edge, her back straight. She wore dark house clothes, her posture rigid. She was looking down, watching the swimming fish.
That sight—the figure of a woman sitting quietly by the water, seeking peace amidst the chaotic Mallen mansion—instantly triggered the deepest memory of Vallen.
The breath I had just inhaled immediately caught in my throat. A venom of pure rage boiled inside my soul.
I saw her action not as an escape from trauma, but as a calculated, brazen attempt to seize Vallen's most private space. She dared.
She dared to contaminate my bedroom, she dared to accept my touch, and now, she dared to imitate Vallen in Vallen's favorite spot. Chiella was trying to steal the last memory I possessed.
I would not allow it. I would not allow Chiella to taint that memory.
I immediately rushed toward the door. I had to stop this charade before Chiella thought she had any rights in this house.
I strode quickly, crossing the wet grass, and immediately gripped her cold wrist. My grip was so strong, leaving no room for negotiation.
"Stop all this, Chiella," I hissed lowly. "You keep provoking me. End your cheap act. Don't pretend to be her!"
Chiella did not flinch. She just stared at me sharply, tears beginning to swell in her eyes.
"What did I do wrong, Brayen?" her voice trembled. "I was just sitting by the pond. Why are you so angry? Where is my fault?"
My hand moved reflexively, slapping her small cheek hard.
It wasn't guilt or regret I felt. Only a wave of cold, burning hatred. The hatred wasn't for her, but for my foolishness last night. I only saw Chiella as a vessel for an unhealing wound.
Several servants on the mansion terrace instantly turned. I could feel their pitying gazes fixed on Chiella, which only further fueled my rage. Their presence only confirmed that I had lost control.
I pulled her mercilessly, dragging her away from the pond's edge, my house slippers scraping across the gravel. Chiella's body jolted and stumbled, but I did not release my grip. I dragged her across the terrace, straight to the sliding glass door.
I threw her through the door. Chiella's small body stumbled, falling heavily onto the cold marble floor of the living room, her voice muffled by the sobs that could no longer be held back.
Not one person dared to stop me.
I looked at her—her tiny body sprawled on the expansive marble floor, contrasting with the surrounding luxury. The tears flooding her face only intensified my anger, affirming that she was a source of suffering I had to punish.
"You deserve it," I whispered, cold, a voice only we both could hear.
I left her there, lying on the marble floor, without looking back. I had to go. If I stayed longer, I was afraid the destruction I carried would consume my entire self.
___POV: CHIELLA CRUZE__
My back slammed into the cold marble floor. The impact choked my breath, and the pain radiated from my tailbone to my head.
"Enough, Brayen!" I screamed inwardly. I no longer knew where my mistake lay. Why did he have to hit me and throw me, after all the savagery he committed last night? My tears broke, soaking the cold marble.
A shadow fell over me. Bi Lin, the middle-aged maid in this mansion, approached with a face full of pity.
"Come, Miss, let me help you."
My body felt shattered and hollow, as if completely drained of energy. Bi Lin gently helped me up, assisting me to sit on the nearest dining chair.
"Just a moment, Miss, I'll fetch some warm tea," she whispered. I only nodded, my eyes staring blankly at the floor.
My entire body ached. Not just from the impact, but from the memory of last night. Brayen had taken everything from me, and through it all, he kept calling his late wife's name. When his consciousness returned, instead of regretting it, he simply vented his self-disgust onto me.
Bi Lin returned with a glass of warm tea. Her gentle face radiated the same sadness. She stroked my hair with a motherly tenderness.
"Be patient, Miss," Aunt Lin tried to explain and soothe me. "The young master now is not like he used to be. Everything changed drastically after Miss Vallen's death."
I had been freed from the shackles of my own family, but now I had entered a new set of shackles, one far more brutal.
"I'll go get some medicine now," she said, roughly wiping away her own tears tears shed out of pity for my state.
I could only feel fresh blood still flowing from the corner of my lip. Brayen's slap had landed so hard on my cheek, leaving a physical wound that now felt far more real than the internal ones.
Bi Lin carefully applied ointment to my cracked lip.
"Thank you, Aunt," I whispered softly.
"Yes, Miss, it's alright," she replied, but her gaze was filled with deep sorrow. She scanned my entire body. "But… why are there so many bruises on your body, Miss?"
I flinched. My whole body was now covered in bruises and pain, physical evidence of last night's brutality. Brayen didn't just take my purity; his rough blows and grips hit my body repeatedly. Although I had tried to escape, writhed, and begged him to stop, Brayen hadn't flinched. He had only become rougher and more brutal.
I knew that in his heart, his world and his life contained only Vallen's name. I was merely an object forced to bear the weight of his anger.
As I tried to apply medication to my aching body, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from the marble staircase. Brayen descended.
The man was ready. Wearing his shirt and suit jacket, he looked cold, arrogant, and had reverted to the figure of a powerful magnate: Brayen Mallen. The swift change from drunken monster to manicured aristocrat was terrifying.
My body instantly tensed.
Bi Lin, who had been with me, immediately lowered her gaze. The warmth around us completely vanished, replaced by Brayen's deadly cold aura.
Brayen, from the last step of the stairs, was already looking at me with a sharp gaze that seemed intent on killing me. He approached, every step sounding like the echo of a threat
.
"Deliver my lunch to the office," he commanded, his voice piercing sharply into the depths of my heart. "And remember, you must cook it yourself."
The command was like the slash of a sword. The order forced me to stand, forced me to move, even though my body had just been shattered.
After dropping that cruel-sounding command, he turned and left. He left behind the scent of expensive cologne, destruction, and my body, which now had to shoulder a new task amidst the pain.