I was shaking with rage. My whole body trembled as I walked closer to her. “You’re a snake. A traitor. I trusted you. You’re nothing but a lying—”
Before I could stop myself, I lunged. I slammed her into the table, the force of it rattling the wood.
“You think you can take everything from me?” I growled, my fingers tightening around her shoulders. “You think you can just walk in here and ruin everything? You’re nothing but a backstabbing—”
Suddenly, the door slammed open.
Reagan stood there, his eyes blazing.
“Enough!” he roared, his face twisted in fury.
Before I could react, he was on me, his hands wrapping around my throat.
I gasped for breath, my vision blurring as he squeezed harder.
Dulcie stood behind him, pretending to cry, her hand pressed to her cheek. “He attacked me, Reagan! She’s crazy! She’s out of control!”
And just like that, Reagan let go of my throat and turned to her, as though nothing had happened.
He didn’t even hesitate.
He grabbed Dulcie, pulling her into a tight embrace, stroking her hair like she was the victim.
“Everything will be okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving me. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”
And in that moment, I realized. I was nothing. To him. To Dulcie. “Lock that bitch in the basement!” He ordered.
My heart dropped.
The door slammed behind me with a finality that shook the floor beneath my feet. The heavy clang of the lock echoed through the stone walls like a death sentence.
I was in the basement. No windows. One flickering lightbulb. A rusted metal cot in the corner. A chipped ceramic bowl of what looked like gray mush and a plastic cup of water sat on the floor like some sick offering.
I didn’t cry.
I didn’t scream.
But my hands trembled as I sat down, the cold concrete seeping into my skin like poison.
Then came his voice.
Low. Icy. Dripping with power.
"You fucking exist because I allow it. Don’t forget that."
He leaned close, lips brushing my ear.
And then he walked away.
I sat there, frozen. Not just from the cold, but from the realization.
He wasn’t bluffing. Titanis wasn’t just a company—it was the vault of confidential defense data, global blueprints for weapons and technologies countries would go to war over.
He wanted inside. Through me.
And he was willing to destroy my father—hell, the world—just to own it.
The next days blurred.
Gray food. Half-cups of water. Silence.