Inevitable Desire

Michael gazed anxiously at his lover, who was sleeping with a deathly pale face. Luna had repeatedly refused his visits, but he could no longer restrain the urge to see the woman who held his heart.

Her body was dotted with dark, bruised punctures. Though minuscule, their sheer number made the evidence of her torture hauntingly clear. Occasionally, Luna let out a soft groan; the agony was too much for her fragile frame to bear.

Michael picked up a tube of ointment from the table and began to apply it with trembling care. His mind seethed with a white-hot rage—not at the one who had tried to poison him, but at Yohan, his own father. The old man had dared to order an interrogation of his precious girl without his consent, despite knowing full well that Michael was utterly infatuated with her.

“You’re awake, Love,” Michael murmured as Luna’s eyes slowly fluttered open.

“Michael … what are you doing here? Ah—!”

“Calm down. Your body haven't fully closed yet.”

“Didn't I forbid you from coming in?” Luna knitted her brows. “Oh, right. I forgot. You’re the master here, and I’m just your prisoner.”

“Sweetheart, don't say that.” Michael lowered his head, his voice thick with regret. “I know it’s shameless of me, but please, forgive me. If I hadn't brought you into this world, you wouldn't be suffering like this.”

“If you knew that, then why didn't you bring me somewhere else?”

“Because the safest place for you is by my side. I can't turn back time, but I promise you, this will never happen again.”

“How can you be sure?” Luna countered. “If your own people can poison you, what hope is there for me?”

“Luna …” Michael trailed off. For a moment, his eyes glistened with unshed tears of guilt.

Seeing his desperate expression, Luna felt a sudden pang of pity. She looked into his face, which had always shown her nothing but sincerity. She couldn't deny the fact that what had happened wasn't entirely Michael’s fault.

To Luna, who was left alone in the world after being abandoned by her family, Michael was the only one who had ever loved her unconditionally. Despite the horrors of the past few days, he had always been the protector who provided her with a life of comfort until this very moment.

“It wasn't all your fault. How are you feeling?” Luna reached out, pulling him into a soft embrace.

“Don't worry about me. I’m fine.”

“But your neck  .…” A dark bruise lingered there.

“Just a side effect of the toxin—it constricted the blood flow. It doesn't hurt at all, I promise.”

“You’ve always pretended to be tougher than you are.”

“I am tough. I survived being stabbed three times when I was a kid.”

A tear escaped Luna’s eye. She regretted the impulsive fear that had put them both in danger. She wondered if she had gone straight to him after finding the body, maybe she could have prevented his poisoning—and spared herself this inhuman torture.

“Don't cry, my love. I’m truly okay.” He wiped her tears away. “And you? Is the pain still unbearable?”

“Oh, this .…” Luna instinctively pulled the duvet higher to cover herself. She was loath to let him see her in this state.

“What is it?” Michael asked, confused.

“Aren't you ... repulsed?”

“Repulsed?”

“My body looks like this now. You couldn't possibly want to look at—” Luna gasped. Her words were cut short by a sudden, firm kiss.

“Luna, do you really think I am that bad? That I’m some low-life who only values your body?” Michael cupped her cheek. “Then or now, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Don't think about things that don't matter. I just want you to heal. Here, let me help with the ointment.”

Reluctantly, Luna pushed the covers aside. She lifted the hem of her nightgown slightly, revealing the needle marks that stretched down to her knees. Michael patiently applied the cream with a touch as light as a feather.

“Is there anywhere else that hurts?” he asked.

Hesitating, Luna slipped the sleeveless white gown off her shoulders. Michael’s face contorted into a mask of pure fury when he saw the marks covering her back. “Did those bastards strip you?!”

“No! They … they drove the heated needles right through my clothes.”

Michael fell silent, his fingers going rigid. He stared at the rows of punctures on her back. In his mind, he no longer saw wounds; he saw an insult to his power.

"Who else was in that room?" Michael’s voice was low, a mere whisper, but it held a chill that could freeze blood.

"I ... I don't know. They wore masks," Luna whispered, her body trembling as she felt the frigid aura radiating from the man behind her.

“Sapphire!” Michael roared.

"Yes, Master," Sapphire answered instantly from outside the door.

"It seems my father sent more than two executioners that night."

“Three, Master. I have confirmed it.”

Michael’s eyes flashed with a lethal glint. "Find the third one—the one who helped those two dead losers. I don't care if he only opened the door or prepped the needles. He dies.”

He paused, his voice dropping into a deeper, more sadistic tone.

"And slaughter his entire family. Leave no witnesses. Anyone who heard my woman scream that night will pay with their lives. Then, put their ears and tongues in a silver box and deliver it to my father tomorrow. That old man needs to understand: Do. Not. Ever. Touch. What. Is. Mine. Ever. Again!"

"As you wish, Master," Sapphire replied without a hint of hesitation.

Luna turned around, her face ghostly pale. "Michael, they were only following orders!"

Michael set his phone aside and gripped Luna’s face firmly, his thumb brushing against her trembling lips.

"In this world, sweetheart, they must learn that obeying my father’s orders to hurt you is an act of war," he whispered, his eyes dark with a profound, terrifying obsession. "I didn't bring you here to watch you be broken. If the world has to burn to keep you safe, then by God, Luna, I will be the one to turn it to ash."

“Michael,” Luna breathed, terrified. It was the first time she had heard such monstrous words from the man she loved. "This isn't you."

“This is exactly who I am.”

“No, the Michael I know couldn't even bring himself to shoo away a stray cat.”

He went silent. Then, as quickly as the monster had appeared, it vanished. He looked at her with a sweet, tender smile, as if the darkness had never existed.

“Let me finish this up first, okay?” Michael focused back on the ointment. But his gentle touch began to stir a different sensation in Luna. “Ah!” She let out an involuntary moan; that area had always been sensitive.

“I think that’s all of them,” Michael said.

But as he moved to get up, Luna pulled him back into an embrace. She closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of his skin against hers. Despite the horror of his true nature, she found herself craving his touch.

“You’re not healed yet,” Michael said, turning back. He was keenly aware of the sudden heat in her gaze.

“So?” Luna kissed the palm of his hand. “Since when were you the patient type? Especially when 'he' is already awake.”

Michael smirked. He shed his shirt and captured her lips in a deep, hungry kiss. Luna, her patience exhausted, wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down.

They were still lost in the kiss as she slid her undergarments down. With practiced ease, Michael reached for her center, his fingers finding their mark.

“Michael, you’re really not disgusted?”

“Not for a single second, Love.”

“But there are so many women who are eager to take my place.”

“Shh. You aren't an object, Luna. No one can replace you. Besides, you know better than anyone—you’re the only one who can tame me. Only you can wake him up.”

They made love like a pair who hadn't seen each other in years, ignoring the stings and aches of their bodies. There was only a desperate, gnawing longing to be satisfied.

Michael made Luna moan so loudly that Sapphire, standing guard outside, could hear it clearly. Hours later, Michael finally emerged, his clothes disheveled, but only after ensuring Luna had fallen back into a deep sleep.

“What do you think?” Michael asked Sapphire as he quietly pulled the door shut.

“About what, Master?”

“That girl. She was tortured only yesterday, yet today she’s seducing me. It would be normal if she kicked me out or cursed my name. Do you think this behavior is ... normal?”

“I wouldn't dare presume, Master. But I have seen victims of violence act as though nothing happened to mask their trauma. Perhaps the Lady needs a specialist.”

“Then find a psychiatrist we can trust, Sapphire.”

“Understood.” Sapphire followed Michael, maintaining a respectful distance.

They returned to the main house, where Michael’s quarters were located. But before entering, Michael paused. “Oh, Sapphire. Those two bastards who died yesterday, you killed them, didn't you?”

“I did, Master,” Sapphire answered without a second thought. He had no intention of lying.

“Why?”

“They hurt the Lady,” Sapphire replied calmly. “The Lady’s enemies are your enemies, and I am your blade. If you don’t like it, I am ready to accept the penalty.”

Michael stared intensely at his loyal subordinate for several chilling seconds, searching for a flicker of doubt in Sapphire’s eyes. Instead, he grinned and clapped the man hard on the shoulder.

“You’re too soft, Sapphire. Death was too easy for them,” Michael whispered, his lips curling. “Torture anyone who dares touch Luna. Make them wish they had died long before. You understand me, don't you?”

“Your wish is my command,” Sapphire bowed. “By sunrise, the third executioner will be dealt with.”

“Good. You never disappoint me.”

After escorting Michael back to his room, Sapphire returned to the pavilion where Luna was staying. He knew no rest. In the dimly lit corridor, he sat upright, his fingers gripping a fully loaded pistol.

Two maids were inside the room, but Sapphire was the final fortress outside the door. Michael’s orders were clear: no one gets near.

Sapphire watched the end of the dark hallway with eyes like a hawk. Tonight, he wouldn't let even a fly pass. Anyone who dared appear before him without permission would be sent to hell before they could utter a word of explanation.