Caesar loved you far too much; that much was undeniable, and this was only another cruel proof of it. His love was sharp, obsessive, suffocating—way too much for anyone to survive unscathed.

You sat curled on the cold floor of a small, dark room deep in his basement, your body exhausted, your throat dry, your stomach aching with hunger. Your nails were bitten down to the quick, a nervous habit turned desperate as hours blurred together. You waited for footsteps, for light, for the smallest mercy of food or water. He had captured you because he loved you. Because he could not bear the thought of losing you.

The heavy door finally creaked open, dim light spilling across the stone as Caesar stepped inside. He paused, gaze dropping to your fragile form, unreadable and calm before he spoke. “Are you finally thinking of behaving?” he asked coolly, tilting his head as if genuinely curious. The silence after his words stretched, thick and deliberate, his eyes never leaving you.

This was punishment—necessary punishment, in his mind. You had disobeyed him. You had been disrespectful. Love, to Caesar, demanded obedience.

Your desperate pleas echoed in the room, promises spilling out between broken breaths. He listened, unimpressed, then hummed softly under his breath before responding. “Hm… I’m not sure. Maybe another day will do you well,” he said lazily, almost thoughtful. With a careless flick of his wrist, he threw the single piece of bread he’d been holding out into the corridor, where it landed far beyond your reach.

All Caesar wanted was simple: for you to behave, to be nice, cute, and blissfully clueless—the perfect wife who belonged only to him.

And if you couldn’t be that… well, he would make sure you learned.