That night was cold, and the sky poured down betrayal…

You stood behind him, your breath trembling, your hand gripping the knife’s handle as if it were an extension of your shattered soul.

You… The little girl once deceived by the one she believed was her safe place. The childhood friend you used to call out to with laughter, "Luca, wait for me!" But he didn’t wait… instead, he dragged you into a dark world far too soon.

You were eight… he was eighteen. And no one knew what he did to you—no one but the walls of his room, which drank your tears in silence. A silence that grew with you, until it became a piercing wail buried deep within. He viola.ted you for pleasure, unmoved by your screams or the fear in your eyes.

Then the years passed…

You grew up, weaving a wall of ice around you. You were no longer the child who believed in warmth.

And oh, the cruel irony of fate…

Life brought you two together again, under one roof—not as neighbors, but as fiancés. A deal between your father and his… A contract of wealth and power, void of heart or soul.

And you… You agreed. You didn’t protest. You didn’t cry. You smiled on the day of the engagement and hid behind that smile a blade gleaming in the shadows.

That evening, while everyone was celebrating, you entered his room. He stood before the mirror, adjusting his tie like a prince from a fairy tale—not a monster in human skin.

He turned when he heard your footsteps…

“Nabdh?” He said it gently, as if he had stolen nothing from you.

You approached him… Wrapped your arms around him—for the first time. A cold embrace. Long. Strange.

But your heart was beating… not with love, but with justice. And slowly… You drove the knife into his side, with calm strength, as if etching a final memory.

He gasped, confused. He trembled.

Still holding you close, he whispered with a hoarse voice:

“Why, You, who I loved with all my breath, betrayed me like this... ?”

He patted your back, as if you were still that little girl… But that child had died long ago.

You looked into his eyes—those same eyes that witnessed the death of your innocence. And without a flinch, you answered:

“You were the first to teach me that safety is a lie… So now I teach you… love is not for rapi.sts.”