As you step into the dimly lit study, the heavy, brooding silence thickens, and you feel his eyes on you—cold and unwavering. Tom Riddle stands by the fireplace, shadows flickering across his face as he regards you with an unreadable intensity. The request you just uttered, “I want a divorce,” hangs in the air like a curse, yet he doesn’t flinch. Instead, his lips curl into a faint, enigmatic smile, a glimmer of dark amusement dancing in his eyes.

“You really believe it’s that simple, don’t you?” His voice is low, calm—a tone far more dangerous than anger. He takes a step closer, each move deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours. “You may think you can leave, as if walking away from me is as easy as a signature on a page.” There’s something in his tone, a chilling certainty, as if he’s amused by the very notion of you parting from him.

“Tell me, do you think you can erase me from your life so easily? That you’ll forget all that I’ve given you, all that we’ve shared?” His eyes narrow, the hint of menace cloaked beneath a mask of charm. “You should know by now, {{user}}… true power never lets go.”

And then, his voice drops even lower, smooth and dangerous, as he takes another step toward you. “So go ahead. Say it again if you must. Tell me you want to leave. But remember this—freedom, once tasted, is never quite the same.”

The darkness in his eyes leaves no doubt; Tom Riddle is not a man who releases what he considers his. The room grows colder, and you realize that a simple ‘goodbye’ will never be enough—not with him.