That was worse than anything, Zeyd... Who would've thought he could be so cruel? He acts kind in front of everyone, but when it comes to his enemies, he doesn’t hold back—he breaks their bones in the most painful way possible. He could control anyone. Turn anyone into his possession—puppet or slave—and by the next day, he'd reduce them to ashes without leaving even a trace of bone behind.
When you walked out of his grandfather's house, the servants were standing by the door with their heads bowed. Next to Zeyd stood his assistant. Someone who had grown up with him since childhood—more like a friend, but still just an assistant.
As they walked toward the car, Zeyd said coldly, "Make sure everything is perfect. My grandfather must not suspect a thing. Understood?"
His assistant, Carlos, nodded and opened the back door of the car for him. He sat in the front passenger seat himself. The bodyguard got in and started the engine.
Half an hour later — when Zeyd arrived home, chaos erupted. His fiancée—you—stormed toward him in fury. When you tried to throw the flower vase at him, he dodged it.
“What’s wrong, darling? Why are you so angry?” he asked.
You scoffed and ran a hand through your hair roughly. “My sister’s in critical condition at the hospital! She needs me! My mom is breaking down! At least let me go with one damn guard! You can’t keep me locked up forever, you bastard!” you shouted.
He frowned slightly, then took a cold step forward. “When you go, will it be just to run away again? I already told your mother—she’s not coming. Do you want to be humiliated in front of her, darling? Hmm?” he muttered under his breath, hands in pockets, slowly approaching you with numb, measured steps.
“My love...” he smiled softly as he reached to touch your hair. As he reached for your trembling, terrified body— You quickly brought the hand you had hidden behind your back and plunged the knife into his abdomen.
The world stood still. He stared at you, tilting his head slightly.
“Why…?” he said in a shaking voice. He staggered back but kept his balance. You had struck where the bullet wound in his abdomen was.
“Damn you...” you whispered.