Couldn't update yesterday so there'll be two more back-to-back updates tomorrow and day after.

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"Mommy, when will Uncle Chase marry Inessa?" Kryslian murmurs sleepily while being wrapped around me like a koala bear.

I laugh. "I don't know, munchkin. Who told you he'll marry her?" 

"Grandma Jen."

I roll my eyes. "Grandma Jen is deluded and talks too much."

"I want to become a popstar and sing in concerts like Inessa Langford, mommy." 

"Yeah? You don't want to become like mommy? Go to work in Chanel suits and big heels?"

"Can I do both?"

"Of course, you can, munchkin." I whisper in her ear, brushing her hair back with my free hand.

"I also want to fly to space in the spaceship Uncle Res will build for me and Kenzo."

I smile, kissing her head. "It's alright. We'll become a popstar like Inessa, go to work like mommy, and then fly to space. We can do all we want."

"With Kenzo."

"With Kenzo."

"No Kenzo," my husband asserts in almost a growl as he follows us up from behind. "She's heavy for you. Let me hold her. Come here, princess."

Before I can protest, he transfers the child from my arms to his. Kryslian is more than happy to be there.

"Are you hungry, princess?" He asks her.

For the entire world, he's this figure, unyielding and untouchable, but for me and her, he melts. This side of him that is reserved just for us two causes something to tug deep in my heart.

He'll be a hands-on father.

No children, Juliette. Too early for that. My mind snaps. Don't want him to freak out. School your features before he reads your thoughts.

"Wait for me. I just need to say a quick goodbye to Ines and congratulate her on the show. I'll be back in five minutes," I brush my mouth against Areston's.

The backstage is buzzing with the typical post-show energy. Not that I have been to many because I am not exactly a concert-goer type. I head to the extreme end of the corridor with the most privacy where Inessa's dressing room is located. 

The entry to the corridor is guarded by two bulky men and I have a feeling I have seen them somewhere before. They look like my brother's bodyguards but I could be mistaken as I have never paid close attention before. 

I am about to open the door that's already ajar when I see through it my brother all bulging muscles in a brown T-shirt and black jeans leaning menacingly over Inessa who's trapped against a dresser.

"Are you fucking that Hollywood trash? Do you really have the soul of a typical music industry slut?"

What the hell?

"We're not in a relationship, Chase. Never were. So, I have the soul of slut? What's it to you? What I do in my life is none of your goddamn business." She pushes his body, but he remains unbudged.

"That's where you're wrong, hummingbird," he leans further close, causing her to visibly gasp. "You see, I have made it my business. Quite directly, even. I'm buying your label."

"What? No!"

"Yes. All your unreleased and upcoming tracks and the documentaries you plan to release will now be under my control, sweetheart. The acquisition is under way and once I control it, I'll be the one who'll get to decide whether I release all that stuff or bury it. I would release it, but then I am against promoting an artist regardless of their popularity who are walking sluts. And just so you don't accuse me of keeping you in the dark, I have also initiated the process to buy your entire catalog and secure exclusive distribution rights for every single thing that comes out of your beautiful mouth in the future, baby. I will control where your music goes, where it releases, who hears it. I will control your brand and you. Your lawyers should update you on it tonight."

I slap my hand to my mouth. What the hell is the matter with him?

"How dare you..." Inessa lifts her hand to slap him but he catches it and thrusts it back, pinning it against the wall.

"Keep the violence reserved when you're in my bed and these hands scratch my back out of pleasure."

"I won't let you buy it, Chase! My team will block it. I will offer to buy it first," she retorts angrily, her frame vibrating from rage.

"Had you not been busy whoring around then you could've done it. Unfortunate for you, my team acted first and the offer has been accepted. It's happening, hummingbird. Nothing you can do to stop it."

"Why are you doing this?" She yells, her voice defeated.

"We continue our arrangement. You do not ask for any labels. You want exclusive, I will give you exclusive, but that's all I am going to offer. No relationship. No commitment."

I have known how ruthless my brother is... they say he's the clone of my husband for a reason. But he also possesses this degree of nauseatingly manipulative behavior just to make certain she remains his property without conditions? That I didn't know.

"Till you get bored?"

"Till I get bored."

"Fuck you. Don't forget my dad is one of your biggest business partners. My family has been your family's closest friend since generations. Think about how they'll take it when they find out how hellbent you are on ruining their only child."

"You think I give a fuck?"

"Chase—"

"If you do not consider my proposal, I will never let your content see the light of the day. I am certain you can imagine how I can make your unreleased tracks become the cornerstone of an extremely profitable vault collection after a couple of years without letting you earn a single penny out of it."

I want to barge inside and punch his face but I restrain myself. I feel nauseous. I want to leave, but my feet stay firmly rooted to the spot.

Tears start falling down Inessa's eyes and mine too. I can feel myself in her position. I see a glimpse of myself from Areston and my time in Greece. "You are... you are going to use my own hard work against me?"

"It's just business, hummingbird. This is who I am. You knew you were not supposed to catch my eye but you did so deliberately so now you face the consequences. You give me what I want, and I'll give you something you cannot afford to lose. Either you're in this with me or I destroy you. Not even your entire global fandom or legal battalion can save you from me. You know it. The shiver in your body affirms it."

"Chase... you can't!"

"I can. And to make sure I'm completely clear, I will not just stop at it. I will ruin you until you'd give up on your career and go live a hermit life in some damned village, Inessa. So, think of my deal as a motivation to consider my proposal. All you'll be losing by accepting is your free pass to being a slut because I won't tolerate it..."

"Stop it!" I barge in and try to wrench his mountain-like frame away from her. He doesn't budge until he takes a few steps back, his brows drawn together in a scowl as I hug Inessa.

She doesn't say it but she shows me how thankful she is for the intervention by wrapping her arms around me just like a younger sister would have. I pity her. 4 hours of tiresome performance and then this shitshow. It must be so psychologically exhausting.

"What the fuck is the matter with you? I heard everything. Who are you and where's the brother I know?" I yell at my brother.

"Leave, pumpkin," he simply says in a deceptively soft voice with his arms crossed over his chest.

On these occasions it makes me realize just how he shares my husband's personality more so than August. Kings of ruthlessness. If there's anyone who can remain poker-faced even in the most alarming situations, it's these two animals in human skin. He's not even accusing me of having eavesdropped simply because he doesn't care what I heard and has no guilt over the way he was caught bullying.

"No, I wouldn't. Who gave you the right to play with someone's career? Is that how you were brought up? To decimate anything and everything that doesn't go your way?"

"That's exactly how both you and I were brought up to operate so don't give me shit about it and stop meddling. This doesn't concern you."

"You are my brother. Everything you do concerns me just like everything I do concerns you whether I like it or not." I glare at him and turn to Inessa. "How are you feeling? Do you need water? Something strong perhaps?"

She shakes her head, wiping her tears. "I need to leave. I am sorry," she hugs me before she runs out.

"Are you a fucking robot? Can't you see what you have reduced such a powerful woman like her to with your bullying? What's wrong with you?"

"I have my reasons."

"Fuck those reasons. You wouldn't tolerate anyone bullying me. Quoting your own words, you'd rip them apart into millions of pieces and let vultures feed on them. Why would you bully Inessa then?"

He remains silent, no expression. Just a twitch in his right eye. That's his tell for when he's super frustrated or pissed but is restraining himself.

"Was I wrong to trust your word when you assured me that you'd never leave my sister alone to wander off in public places after what happened at Ari's gala night?" He says with utter calm, his eyes trained over my shoulder.

I turn around to find my husband. I throw myself at him and start crying. "Chase... he's an asshole, Ares. I feel so bad for Inessa," I sob in his arms, telling him what I saw and heard. He relaxes when he's assured it's not a bad trigger. "I saw myself in her. I felt like I was back in that time."

"Shush, tesoro," he consoles me, stroking my hair. "Stop crying. Inessa is an adult. She'll deal with it just fine."

What? I pull myself back from him. "That's not the point, Ares. Who gave him the right to treat her like trash just because he can? He was practically bullying her and I couldn't do anything. I should have offered to fight him. She cannot fight him, but I can."

"You are not going to meddle, Belle," he notes sternly, pulling me back so we're face-to-face, his eyes hard. "They're both consenting adults. Whatever game they're playing is their deal. Just because you feel a sense of righteousness doesn't mean you're going to rebel and make it your business."

"But—"

He shushes me by placing a forefinger on my mouth. "He's just a man trying to make sure the woman he likes remains his."

"That's how? You're advocating it? Would you have done the same if we were in this situation?"

"I would have done worse, Belle. He's barely scratching the surface," he says coldly without a hint of remorse and cradles my head once again against his chest. "He knows what he's doing and she knows what's best for her. They'll be fine, tesoro."

I step back and then some more. "Bet you're enjoying this encouragement?" I hiss at my brother who's still standing in the same position since our argument wearing the same stoic expression on his face. "Do you really want Inessa so bad that you'd resort to such low means?"

"Yes."

His one word response frustrates me. "And she's supposed to keep wondering when would be the day or night when you'll have gotten enough of her and kick her out of your life."

"No one should overthink trivial matters like that and enjoy the present."

"You," I whip my head to my husband. "Do you support this bullshit? Despite experiencing what that fucked up mindset led us to before we parted in Sardinia?"

"He knows what he's doing, tesoro."

"Just like you did? Do you even remember the way it broke me... broke you in the end?"

"We're together now. Whether we liked it or not, it played a role." The arctic chill in his voice is the stuff of my nightmares.

"You two are impossible. So closed off that no one can get into your fucked up head and know what the fuck it is that you want. Today you want something. Tomorrow you don't. Do you expect a person to spend their entire life at your whim worrying when you'd be done or it'd be enough? I am so tired and disgusted. What's worse for me is the fact that my husband is defending him."

"I need to find Inessa. You deal with your wife." My brother announces and comes to kiss my forehead as usual but I pull myself away.

"Don't. Just... just leave. Right now, I see you and I see this cold monster I don't know."

"A cold monster that shares your blood and is your brother," he steps forward and kisses my head anyway and I let him. "I am sorry you had to witness all that." He shares a silent look exchange with my husband before he exits.

Areston is looking at me with an expression I can't decipher. His sapphire gaze, soulless and dark and cold. Is he mad at me? What for? That I said the truth?

I walk to him nevertheless and hug him tightly, inhaling his signature perfume, and letting it soothe me. "Take me home. I feel like I'm good in our own isolated bubble so I don't have to see these fucked up emotions where women are bullied by the men they're in love with. I am happy remaining in our own isolated bubble. That's actually better than seeing these things and being forced to reminisce about what happened between us. I do not like reliving the past."

"That's the third time you have mentioned an isolated bubble." His nostrils flare slightly. It's not noticeable, but I notice everything about him. "Come, let's go home." His jaw tightens and his hand roughly comes around mine, nudging me forward.

What's with him now?

Areston has kept menacingly quiet throughout our journey back home. Something's going on in his mind. I can't tell what. His fingers have been entwined with mine all the time but that has been the only point of contact we have had between us. I tried asking him, but he didn't respond. It didn't help that someone from his work requested an urgent Zoom call to discuss some production issues that might cause a launch delay of his new spaceship. He busied himself on it on his spare Mac that he always carries in his car. Somehow I felt like he was deliberately avoiding talking to me and got the best excuse. As if I was a ticking time bomb and I'd explode if he did. However, the vibe he gave me said otherwise. It was more like he was the ticking time bomb that would explode if he had any conversation with me.

"Is there anything you wish to tell me, wife?" He finally speaks, his tone dangerously low once we're on the third floor of the fourplex in the larger-than-life Gothic-style, reminiscent of a Victorian era room that I have started calling Devil's Lair.

We have been here only once. The night he drove the fear of blindfolds out of me. We haven't been here since and that was a month ago.

"What do you mean?"

"You're keeping something from me and I'm giving you a chance to speak now."

"I am not keeping anything from you."

"Are you certain?"

"Of course."

"Not even the reason why we were at the concert tonight?" He asks in a deceptively soft tone that doesn't match his cold, soulless eyes.

That's the second time you have mentioned an isolated bubble.

Hell no! He can't know? Can he? He's a great mind reader, but there's definitely no way he could have figured out.

"We were there to unwind. What else?" I don't want him to get ideas after finding out how insecure I felt even when I was not supposed to.

I am an idiot. I made a mistake. I won't repeat it again, but I won't tell him and risk fucking up his mind by telling him about it.

"Unwind," he says, as if measuring the word with disgust.

I swallow as I watch him unbuckle his belt and remove it. Sheer panic grips me. The masochist demon in me wakes up from a deep slumber and stretches at the prospect in front of me.

"Try again, Belle." My husband is going to get the truth out of me anyway, but he's giving me a choice on how he should.

I shake my head, suddenly tongue-tied. Something is seriously wrong with me. Why do I crave such a degree of depravity? This matter can be wrapped up within minutes if I just run in his arms and allow myself to cry in his hold for what a pathetic little shit I can be by letting my paranoia and illogical thoughts get the best out of me. But that won't sate the masochist demon in me that perhaps deep in subconscious knew something like this would happen if he finds out. Did I really want to be disciplined so he could wash away my stupid ideas lingering in the corner of my heart?

You know the answer, Juliette. An inner voice snorts.

"If you want to hit me, just go ahead." I end up saying.

He hasn't rage-fucked me for a long time and I find myself craving it. Something is seriously wrong with me.

A muscle in his taut jaw ticks as if he can read my mind which shouldn't surprise me anymore. "Craving pain is one thing, Belle. I'm always delighted to indulge you. Keeping your fucked up thoughts that can seriously bother you a secret from me pisses me off gloriously. It's my hard limit and you know it. Do you remember what happened the last time you started doing it? You felt fucking suffocated to a point you broke down and broke us up. All I am seeing right now is fucking red."

I stay silent. I don't know what to say. I know I fucked up and I did wrong.

"I knew there was something cooking in your overthinking head but I deliberately chose to ignore it and trust you. What a fucking fool I was. Strip." He commands.

With shivering arms, I remove my clothes in record time. The crop top. The skirt. The jacket. I deserve his wrath. I deserve the punishment. A sick, dark, and twisted part of me needs it.

"Keep the boots on," he stops me before I can remove them. "Kneel. On your fours and crawl to that cross over there," he points at a cross style thing standing in the corner. It has tufted leather padding of red color and cufflinks attached to all four corners.

I mentally grimace at realizing what he's trying to do. I'd told him after that one time when he had made me crawl on my fours to get a squishmallow that I do not like it. Not even one bit. I had felt kind of humiliated of sort when I was thinking about it that night because when it happened, I was too aroused and horny for him to process my feelings about it. It's not a hard limit for me, but it makes me feel queasy. Yet here he is, wanting me to do it just so that he can teach me a lesson. Instead of arguing with him, I drop on my knees and palms and crawl, my jaw clenching with rage from the feeling of humiliation.

Silently, coming behind me like a predator stalking its prey, he instructs me to stand up and lean against it, facing away from him.

He cuffs my wrinkles and ankles to each side of the X and then bends it so that my ass is jutting in his direction.

Drawing a small bottle out of a drawer nearby, he pours the cool, sticky liquid all over my ass and massages the area in slow circles.

"Safe word?"

I gulp. "Siren."

"I won't stop even if I tear the fuck out of your skin so fucking use it this time," he threatens in a dangerously low, domineering voice through his greeted teeth while gently running the belt over the length of my spine.

The cold leather has a certain sensual feel to it or probably it's just me. I recall how aroused I used to be when Ronald would use his belt on me. I would come heavily. Maybe tonight can erase those gruesome memories.

"Yes." I take a deep breath and exhale.

"Count."

The sharp crack of the leather belt on my butt pulls a pained shriek out of me, making my entire body jump. Only that I cannot move. My arms are spread wide, tightly restrained to the cuffs and so are my legs. It hurts more than his hand or the flogger or the paddle or the riding crop did. This is so... intense.

"One." My voice cracks and tears flood my eyes.

The belt swishes into the air once again and lands on the same area, wrenching another cry out of me. He isn't even experimenting with lighter smacks and transitioning to medium before going full hard like he usually does. On a scale of 10 he has probably started with an 8. The sound of it is somehow deeply arousing for some fucked up reason I can't configure. It sends me immediately into a deep subspace.

"Two." I squeeze my eyes shut from the sharp pain that erupts in my body, I wiggle my toes as if it's going to subside the pain.

Three.

Crack.

Four.

Crack.

Five.

Crack.

Six.

The area between my thighs is soaking wet. I am super aroused. My entire skin feels like it is on fire. The stinging pain has grown to a very throbbing, thudding pain. More than physical pain, emotional pain is gripping my throat and choking me. The idea that I am being beaten even if I asked for it and I need it draws more tears, heavy and cathartic out of me.

My limbs are shaking.

Usually, Areston is always teasing me in between, running whatever the object he's using around my body, arousing me more, but right now that's not the case. This is punishment. A real punishment and he wants me to feel every second of it. I know I am barely going to be able to sit down after this at least for one or two days.

I don't care. I need this. With every strike, I feel like the deep-seated effect of the ones they leashed upon me in the rehab is crawling out of my skin in the form of my tears and the cold sweat.

"Tell me why, Belle," he hisses, not even a hint of softness.

His voice makes it clear that he's not enjoying this even though he loves inflicting pain. Every strike that is leaving just as much psychological and emotional pain on him as it is doing on me.

"Seven," I sob, bending my head as the leather lands harder than all the ones before on my left buttcheek. "I was scared."

"Scared because?"

I stay silent and earn another, mind-numbingly painful strike, my nails digging painfully in my palm as I keep them clenched harder into fists.

"Scared because?"

"Scared because... what if spending most of your time with me would wear you out? I know it's idiotic but I couldn't help thinking about it," I speak between sobs. "I had this crazy idea that terrified me. I thought... I thought what if one day I'm not enough to capture your attention? So I wanted you to socialize more so you'll never grow bored of me because your attention won't remain constantly on me. Siren."

Until now, I have never used my safeword. Never. I have never needed to. No pain has ever been enough to make me want to stop him. The physical pain of his belt is not the issue. It's the psychological aspect that wrenches that word out of me and he realizes it.

"Fuck," he whispers, immediately dropping the belt and rushes to free me.

"No. Don't free me. Just fuck me... I need you. Now," I plead, tears unceasing streaming down my face, blurring my vision.

"Belle..."

"Please, Ares."

"Christ," I hear him breathe as he pulls his zip down and grabs the sides of my waist, careful not to touch the burning area of my butt.

I don't know if it's my hazy state of mind or the fact that I'm deep into extreme sub-space. I hear him apologize as he leans down to shower gentle kisses on my buttcheeks, running his wet finger over the stinging and aching area. I can't help but arch my back and moan.

He soothes me with open mouth kisses before getting back on his feet and positioning himself between my wet folds.

He lowers himself on me as he sinks into me to the hilt. This time he doesn't even have to push himself in two thrusts to fully pierce me. I am so lubed up and stretched, he just slides in. His body brushing against my sore area makes me wince.

"Does that fucked up thought still linger on your mind?"

"No... it went away long back."

"Understand this, Belle. You think a crowd can help me divert my mind from you so I wouldn't have a singular focus on you and one day get bored? How is it possible when even in the crowd of millions, the only face I see is yours and the only voice I hear is yours?" His voice is a low wounded growl like an animal's as he pulls out slowly and then slams back into me, the force of it rattling my bones.

Thrust.

Thrust.

"You consume me. Possess me. Obsess me. Quite literally. You're the only person who sees the real me—the darkness, the insanity, the deviance. You're my reason for existing. My world bends and shatters at your feet. I am bound to you. I'd sooner tear my heart out than get bored of you. You are not just enough for me, Belle. You are everything–full stop," his ragged breath is a caress against my ear. "There has never been or will be anyone else who would be worth looking for me. It's just you. Will always be you."

Thrust.

Thrust.

Thrust.

The rough, unrelenting grip of his hands on me feels almost violent as it's sent to shatter me. "You are the maelstrom that feeds my soul. The woman who challenges me, mirrors my darkness, and ignites a fire within me that can never be combusted. If I wanted to find someone he sees me the way you do, I'd have found it already. I have never wanted that or never will. You satisfy the insatiable void that has permanently resided in me. You are mine. I will drag you into the depths of the abyss before I ever let go of you. If you still have doubts, we can talk about it, but don't ever think that you'll wear me out. I do not exist without you, Belle."

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