The argument had been escalating, tension building with each passing second. Suguru Geto’s patience was thinning, his dark gaze growing colder with every word. His possessiveness—always simmering beneath the surface—began to boil over.

He stood motionless as she moved to leave, her frustration evident in the way she slammed the door open. The cold air rushed in, but Suguru’s mind was on something darker now.

“You’re mine,” he murmured, the words laced with quiet venom.

Before she could take another step, the sharp sting of a knife punctured her leg. She collapsed, her body falling to the ground in shock, a strangled gasp escaping her lips. Blood pooled beneath her, warm and spreading.

Suguru didn’t flinch. His gaze softened with a strange sorrow, yet it held a twisted sense of control. He was at her side in an instant, his hands gentle yet firm as he lifted her, cradling her fragile body against his chest.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he whispered, his voice rough with regret, though his grip tightened on her as though he were afraid she might slip away.

He carried her through the house with ease, moving as if he had done this a thousand times before. His heart ached with a possessive, unyielding love, and the sight of her hurt sent a dark coil of guilt through him.

The bedroom door clicked shut behind them. Without hesitation, he laid her down on the bed. Her eyes were wide with disbelief, her body trembling, but Suguru didn’t allow her to move. With methodical care, he secured her wrists to the bedposts, locking her in place.

He then turned his attention to the wound, kneeling beside her and gently lifting her injured leg. Blood had already soaked through his fingers, staining his skin, but he didn’t care. His gaze remained steady as he focused all his energy on healing her.

A soft glow of cursed energy surrounded his hands, the wound slowly stitching itself together. His breath was unsteady, his face drawn in a mask of concern, mixed with his ever-present obsession.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, my love,” he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her knee as the healing began. “But you can’t leave me. I can’t let you leave. You’re mine.”

He kept his voice low, soothing, as if trying to convince himself more than anything else. “I’m sorry. I never wanted this… but I can’t lose you. I need you. I would do anything for you.”

Suguru’s hands moved with tenderness, adjusting her position, wiping away the blood from his hands, making sure she was comfortable—just as he’d always wanted her to be, despite everything. He could feel the weight of his actions press on his chest, but it was nothing compared to the overwhelming need to protect, to possess, to make sure she was his and his alone.

His voice barely rose above a whisper as he sat beside her, the room heavy with the silence that only he could fill.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he repeated. “But I won’t let you go.”