Lahat ng Kabanata ng His Terms, My Surrender: Kabanata 11 - Kabanata 20

My heart dropped at his words, and I froze in place, unable to process what he had just said. My voice trembled as I stammered, “You can’t be serious…”Theo’s eyes narrowed, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Do I look like I’m joking, Sofia?” His voice was low, dangerous, and full of authority. “I don’t repeat myself. Either you do it, or I’ll have someone else do it for you.”I shook my head, my breath coming in short, panicked gasps. “No… I won’t do it.” My voice was weak, but I managed to stand my ground, even though I knew how powerless I was.Theo stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, his face inches from mine. “You still don’t understand your position, do you? I give orders. You follow them. That’s how this works.” His voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper. “The more you resist, the worse it will be for you.”Tears burned in my eyes, and I turned my head away from him, refusing to meet his gaze. My whole body shook, a mix of fear and humiliation washing over me. “Ple

The next day, I woke up feeling worse than I had the night before. My body still ached all over, and every small movement sent a sharp pain shooting through me. I was lying on the bed where Bell had left me, but something felt off. It was too quiet.I glanced toward the door. Usually, by now—around 12:00 PM—Bell would have knocked, bringing me food or fresh clothes. She might not have spoken much, but her presence was the only comfort I had in this place. At the very least, Theo always sent her to check on me once or twice. But today, there was nothing. No knock. No sound. Just silence.My stomach growled, the emptiness making my pain feel worse. I sat up slowly, biting my lip to stop myself from crying out as my sore muscles protested. I limped toward the door and pressed my ear against it, hoping to hear something—anything—but all I could hear was my own shallow breathing.I pressed my back against the cold wall, the rough surface scraping against my bare skin where the torn fabric

The next day was no different from the last. The pain in my body hadn’t subsided, and the ache in my chest grew heavier with every passing hour. I hadn’t slept. Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel Theo’s suffocating presence and hear his mocking laughter. My tears had soaked the pillow beneath me, but even crying brought no relief.When the door finally opened, I didn’t even flinch. My body was too drained to react. But when I saw Bell step inside, her worried eyes scanning the room until they landed on me, something inside me broke all over again.“Sofia,” she said softly, her voice trembling as she rushed to my side. “Oh, dear, dear, don’t cry.” She knelt by the bed, her hands gently brushing the hair away from my tear-streaked face. Her eyes filled with concern as she took in the bruises, the hollow look in my eyes, and my trembling frame.I shook my head weakly, unable to stop the tears that kept falling. “He… he forced himself on me yesterday,” I whispered, my voice barely

I gasped, my body going cold with fear.Bell, still trembling, looked at me with wide, terrified eyes, her mouth barely moving as she whispered, “Sofia…”Theo didn’t respond to her. He simply raised the gun and aimed it at her.I screamed, rushing forward, but one of his men quickly grabbed my arm, holding me back. I couldn’t move, couldn’t stop him. My heart pounded in my chest, and all I could do was watch in horror.“Please, no!” I cried out, struggling in the man’s grip.Theo’s smirk never wavered as he looked at Bell, and with a quick, almost casual motion, he pulled the trigger.The gunshot echoed in the room, sharp and final.Bell’s body jerked, and she fell to the floor, lifeless, her eyes wide open in a look of pure terror. Blood spread across the floor, staining the cold tile beneath her.I couldn't breathe. My chest felt like it was caving in as I stared at Bell's lifeless body, the blood pooling around her.A gut-wrenching scream tore from my throat, raw and full of agony.

It had been a week since Theo’s cruel punishment. A week without food, and the toll it had taken on my body was unimaginable. My face felt pale, my skin stretched tight over my bones, and my stomach constantly twisted with hunger. I had grown so lean, I hardly recognized myself when I looked in the small mirror above the dresser.The bruise were slowly fading, but they were still there. Yet, the hunger was worse. My entire being ached for food, for something—anything—to fill the empty pit inside me. But there was nothing.The weakness in my legs had only gotten worse over the days. I felt light-headed often, like I might collapse any moment. Every movement was sluggish, every breath shallow. The thirst was unbearable, too, but I had learned that asking for water only brought more trouble. So, I lay in the cold room, trying to distract myself from the gnawing pain in my stomach.I couldn’t stop wondering how a person could be so wicked, so merciless. How could anyone do this to another