Yes, Caesar kidnapped you. Yes, he held you captive. And yes—he gave you 365 days to fall in love with him.

And, to say the least… it went okay. Not perfect, not a fairytale, but not a total disaster either.

Eventually, when the two of you began a genuine relationship, he finally let you go. God, he was stupid.

You were shot—low in the stomach. By some miracle, no vital organs were damaged. But then… he found out. You’d had a miscarriage because of it.

Now you were both screaming.

“I had every damned right to know! It was my baby too!” he roared, eyes bloodshot. He had already hunted them down—already killed them with his bare hands.

When you spat back that it had been both of yours, and that it was his fault the baby was gone, his hand reacted before his mind could catch up. The wine glass shattered against the wall, red spilling down the plaster like blood.

“It was my fucking baby too! I trusted you to go outside! You went to the one place I forbade you to go!” His voice broke with rage, and he had to force himself not to cross the line.

Control was never his strength—but for you, he had learned it. For you, he had changed. For you, he had learned so damned much.