Sera stood in the corner of the room, her breathing shallow. Vince stared at her in silence. No words. No movements.
And that was what made the fear even sharper.
"Why didn't you come?" he finally asked. His voice was soft. Too soft.
Sera straightened her back. "I wasn't hungry."
Vince smiled—without humor. "I didn't ask about your appetite. I was talking about rules."
She remained silent.
Vince walked slowly toward her, his steps calm, like a predator in no rush. He stopped just inches from her face.
"You think this is a game, Sera?"
"I don't want to play," she replied quietly.
"Good," he said. "Because this game is never fair."
With a wave of his hand, Vince called two men from outside. They entered, carrying a wooden chair and rope.
Sera froze. "What are you doing?!"
"I won't hurt you," Vince said. "But I will make sure you learn what obedience means."
He gave instructions with no emotion. The men placed the chair in the center of the room. Sera tried to back away, but Vince gripped her arm—not harsh, but unbreakable.
She was forced into the chair. Her wrists tied to the armrests. Her ankles to the legs of the chair.
"Let me go!" she screamed. "You said you wouldn't hurt me!"
"I won't hurt you," Vince repeated. "I'll just help you… understand."
He stepped back and watched her struggle. His face unreadable.
"For the next two hours," he said, "you will sit here and think. No food. No water. No sound. Just you—and your fear."
Sera fell silent. Her eyes widened. "You're cruel."
Vince leaned down, brushing her cheek with his fingertip. "And you're stubborn."
Then he turned and left, locking the door behind him.
Sera was left alone—bound, trembling, and surrounded by silence. The lights dimmed. Time moved slowly.
And in that silence, Sera no longer felt just fear.
She felt… angry.
And somehow, more alive than ever.