"Do you feel any pain?" The old man's low voice, imbued with an unsettling possessiveness, coiled around me like an ice-cold snake's tongue. His gaze, sharp as a hawk's, seemed to pierce through all pretense. I stiffly shook my head, my throat too dry to utter a sound, managing only a muffled "No." He smiled, a chilling and sinister grin, like a predator's triumph before tearing into its prey. "Then there is none. Because if I truly possessed you, you would still feel me now." *** A few days earlier. It all began with that bizarre invitation to Carl's so-called "room." It wasn't a room; it was more like a meticulously arranged cage, where cold handcuffs and a silent whip silently declared an impending judgment. "You've been a little naughty today, little pet. Naughty ones must be punished," Ellis, Carl's father, stated with an unsettling certainty in his voice. In desperation, I screamed Carl's name, trying to awaken that false reality. Ellis's expression instantly froze, cracks appearing in his mask: "Carl? How do you know my son?" When I said, "He's my boyfriend," a flash of anger and resentment flickered in his eyes, finally dissolving into a frustrated, "Damn it!" *** My heart turned to ashes, and I fled, dragging my shattered soul behind me. However, fate's blade hadn't ceased its descent. When I found Carl, he was entangled with my stepsister Bethanie amidst rumpled sheets. Bethanie, the girl who usually feigned innocence, was now like a haughty female beast, tearing at my dignity with the most venomous words: "Carl is a man, he has needs. I was just... filling your void." In that moment, I felt utterly dismissed, like a forgotten item. No, it was worse; my heart was directly corroded into nothingness by cyanide. *** That afternoon, by the pool, Ellis reappeared. He approached me, like a predatory viper, speaking with a tone of almost pity: "Carl... isn't a good man." Bearing the scars of my trampled spirit, I retorted sarcastically, "Oh yes, with a father like you, I suppose it's genetic." A cold glint flashed in Ellis's eyes, then quickly melted into a suffocating tenderness. His hand gently cupped my chin, his voice a low, seductive whisper: "I am not like my son, Olivia. I will treat you the way you deserve to be treated." Betrayed, destroyed, my world instantly collapsed. Ellis's outstretched hand – was it salvation, or another deeper, more elaborate trap? Was I merely falling from one hidden death trap into another, even more insidious and fatal one? After catching her boyfriend cheating, Olivia finds herself drawn to his powerful, dominant father. What starts as revenge spirals into a dangerous game of desire, secrets, and control—where she might lose more than just her heart.