Chapter 13
1144words
The cup is violently knocked away.
It hits the wall and shatters.
Dark red liquid splashes everywhere, filling the air with a suffocating spiciness.
Theodore grips my wrist tightly.
He's trembling.
But the light in his eyes is pure rage.
The kind of rage that comes when a possession betrays you—the desire to destroy everything.
"You wanted to destroy it?"
He pushes me against the counter, his body pressing tightly against mine.
"You'd rather become mute, rather become disabled, than stay with me?"
I look at him.
Calmly pull my hand away.
Even though my throat is already sore from a cold, I still speak with a hoarse voice.
"Yes."
"Theodore, I don't want to be your medicine."
"I don't want to spend my whole life in your medicine cabinet."
"If the only way to leave is to destroy it..."
I glance at the mess on the floor and sneer.
"I don't mind."
Theodore freezes.
He stares at me, as if reassessing an opponent.
The tenderness of this week, the "obedience" of this week, turns out to be all illusions.
As soon as I had a chance.
I would kill "Siren" without hesitation, just to get away from him.
Suddenly.
He smiles and releases his hand.
He takes out a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolds it methodically.
It's a "Psychological Assessment Report."
In the conclusion section, there's a line that reads:
[All indicators have returned to normal. Symptoms of mania have essentially disappeared. Gradual discontinuation of medication is recommended.]
I'm stunned for a moment.
He's cured?
Then that madness of his just now...
"The doctor says it's a miracle."
Theodore looks at the paper, his eyes cold as ice.
"He said my illness is about to be cured."
"I just raced back all the way to tell you this good news. I wanted to say, Ivy, I'm normal now, I'm not crazy anymore, can we try to be like a normal couple..."
He stares at me, and finally bursts into a scornful laugh.
"But I was wrong."
"You don't care at all whether I'm better or not."
"You only care about how to escape."
I fall silent.
Indeed.
What does it matter to me whether he's well or not?
I only want freedom.
Soon, he repeats the question I'm most concerned about.
"By all rights, you're of no use to me anymore. You should be free now, right?"
His tone is bone-chilling.
I look at him without speaking.
My intuition tells me: danger.
Extreme danger!
Sure enough.
The next second.
Theodore, right in front of me, grips that report representing "freedom" with both hands.
Riiip—
Shredded.
He flings his hand, and the paper scraps fall like snowflakes into the chili oil puddles on the floor.
"But I don't want to get better."
He steps closer, the madness in his eyes not retreating at all, but becoming deeper, more suppressed.
"Ivy, you've misunderstood something."
"It's not that I'm sick and therefore need you."
"It's because I need you, so I must be sick."
He grabs my hand and forcefully presses it against his heart.
It's beating extremely fast and erratically.
Like it's about to explode.
"Look."
"As soon as you say you want to leave, it breaks down."
"Doctors can't cure me."
"Only you can."
The rain outside has stopped.
The kitchen is deathly silent.
Theodore looks at me, the ferocity in his eyes suddenly dissipated, replaced by a terrifying "docility."
Slowly, in front of me, he...
Kneels down.
The proud head of the Winterbourne family is kneeling amidst shattered glass and chili oil on the floor.
But there's nothing humble about his kneeling.
His back is straight as an arrow, head held high, his gaze like that of a wolf that has already locked onto its prey's throat.
"Isn't freedom what you want?"
"Here."
He pulls out a set of keys from his pocket, along with a black card, and shoves them into my hand.
"These are the house keys, garage keys, and my spare credit card."
"I won't keep you confined anymore."
"You can go out, spend money, do anything you want to do."
"That 50 million doesn't need to be repaid. That 100 million doesn't either."
My palms are ice-cold.
Looking at the man before me.
"What are the conditions?" I ask.
Theodore smiles.
"The condition is simple."
He points at his own neck.
"I belong to you now."
"The money is yours, the power is yours, freedom is yours."
"But this life is under your control."
"You can leave, but every time you go, you must take me with you."
"You can choose not to speak, but you must listen to me speak."
"You don't have to love me..."
He presses his face against my palm, taking a deep breath, as if inhaling a drug.
"But you cannot abandon your dog."
"Otherwise, this dog will go mad."
"He will not only bite himself to death but will also kill anyone who comes near you."
I hold that heavy bunch of keys.
Looking at this man kneeling on the ground, voluntarily handing the collar to me.
I am clear-headed.
Of course I am clear-headed.
He's gambling.
Betting on my greed, betting on my rationality, betting that I won't choose poverty for so-called "complete freedom."
He gives me everything.
It seems like I won.
In reality, he used this money and power to forge an even bigger cage.
The key to the cage is in his hands.
His leash is in my hands.
"Theodore."
I speak, my voice cold, "You're truly insane."
"Thank you for the compliment."
He smiles like a demon.
"Stand up."
I command.
Theodore stands up. He's much taller than me, that sense of intimidation looming over me.
He looks at me with that "I've got you exactly where I want you" gaze.
I put the heavy key ring into my pocket.
Then.
Reach out and pat his face.
The movement is slow and gentle.
Like calming a dangerous beast.
"Since you want to be a dog," I say coolly, "then be obedient."
"Go clean up the glass shards on the floor."
"Don't damage my slippers."
Theodore's eyes instantly light up.
But that radiance is not merely simple obedience.
It's the wild joy after a successful hunt.
He grabs my hand and firmly kisses the palm.
It's a vow.
And also a curse.
"As you command, master."
He turns to get the broom.
His figure is straight, his steps light.
Where is there any hint of submissiveness?
I touch the key in my pocket.
Looking at his back, a cold smile curls my lips.
Theodore thinks he has caged me.
And I think I have tamed him.
In fact.
From this moment on.
We will be tearing at each other for a lifetime in this golden cage.
This is truly a fight to the bitter end.
