Her body was pressed even tighter against him. She bit down on her lips until they burned and a sharp sting spread through them. Suffocation and the pain of oxygen deprivation flooded her mind, while tears kept spilling uncontrollably from her eyes.
For a fleeting moment, she thought she might die right there.
Die... from that kiss.
A metallic taste of blood lingered between her lips and teeth.
Blood, love, and hatred intertwined, forming a turbulent abyss beneath them—emotions of affection and resentment spiraling into one another.
Fear and pain seeped into every bone, every corner of her soul, as if they had fused with her very being.
The two of them were bound together far too tightly now—a curse that could not be broken, a dark fate that tied their bodies and souls together, one they would never escape in this life... or in any life after.
Yet they remained trapped in their separate worlds.
Vivienne’s breathing grew weaker by the second, until suddenly a loud, forceful knock shattered the heavy silence at the wooden door. Camila Hall’s urgent voice followed immediately, filled with concern:
"Vivian, are you done talking with Mr. Voss? Dinner is ready—come eat something. Then we should head to the clinic to check your condition."
At the sound of her voice, Adrian Voss snapped out of his frenzy. His gaze fell onto the fragile girl beneath him in disbelief.
And finally, reality struck him.
What had he done?
He abruptly released his grip and stumbled backward, tearing himself away from Vivienne.
Vivienne Blackwood collapsed onto the bed, utterly exhausted, gasping for air. Her lashes were soaked with tears, her lips bitten open until blood had spilled, and a deep purple-red mark on her neck looked terrifying—brutal enough to make anyone’s blood run cold.
Anyone who saw her like this would assume she had been beaten to the point of breaking.
For several seconds, Adrian Voss froze.
Then, in disbelief, he touched his own lips. His hands trembled violently as he stared down at them, a flicker of fear surfacing in his eyes.
What had he done?
He had almost killed her.
He had... assaulted her. Forced a kiss on her.
How was he any different from the monsters who had once hurt her?
He was worse. A wretch. A demon who shouldn’t be allowed to live.
His mental state shattered completely in that moment.
His eyes turned red, and he dropped to his knees, still staring at his shaking hands in horror, his pupils trembling violently.
"I... what have I done?" Adrian Voss whispered to himself. "What... I’m a monster... a monster... I deserve to die... I should have died instead of my brother... I should be the one who died..."
Vivienne coughed violently, streaks of blood spilling from her lips, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t care about anything except the man clutching his head in despair—hurting himself, striking himself as if trying to punish his own existence.
"Adrian... Ady..."
She forced herself off the bed, dragging her weak body down to the floor.
She reached him, grabbed his hand, and pulled him into a tight embrace, pressing his trembling body against her.
"Adrian, wake up. It’s okay... It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. Everything is fine. Look at me—I’m fine."
"Adrian, look at me. Please... look at me."
Adrian was struggling to breathe, his breathing ragged and uneven.
This wasn’t the first time he had suffered a panic attack.
Ever since the accident that took his twin brother’s life, he had been drowning in severe depression and recurring panic episodes of varying intensity.
He even relied on medication just to keep his mind from collapsing completely.
Calling him "mad" wasn’t accurate—but calling him "sane" wasn’t either.
With trembling hands, Adrian reached into his jacket, pulled out a small pill bottle, twisted it open with practiced urgency, and swallowed a pill.
"Vivienne? Are you okay?" a voice called from outside. "Mr. Voss? What’s happening? Are you both in there?"
"Camila, why are you shouting?" Arthur Williams interrupted, stepping forward to assess the situation.
"Arthur, there are strange noises inside, but no one is answering. Could they be fighting? I heard their relationship isn’t very good, but Vivian is sick—I’m worried..."
Before she could finish, hurried footsteps approached from behind.
"That bastard Voss... I’ve disliked him since the moment I saw him. Move aside."
Leo Thompson had no patience left. Without hesitation, he kicked the wooden door open with force.
"Ah!" Camila Hall gasped at his brutality.
Arthur and Oscar said nothing—they simply followed him inside.
Camila and the cameraman were about to enter as well, but in the next moment, Oscar, the last one in, turned and slammed the door shut in their faces.
Camila Hall: "...?"
The cameramen: "..."
The live audience watching the broadcast early in the morning: "..."
What kind of broken show was this?
Inside the room.
Arthur and Oscar stood at a distance, watching the chaotic scene unfold.
Vivienne lay unconscious in Oscar’s arms, completely limp. She had already lost consciousness before anyone entered—the illness and suffocation from earlier had drained her of every last bit of strength.
And the moment they walked in, they saw it with their own eyes:
Adrian Voss holding the unconscious Vivienne Blackwood.
He stared at her in a daze.
Her face was deathly pale, as if she were already lifeless.
Bite marks stained with blood marred her soft pink lips.
But the most horrifying sight—the one that made their blood boil—was the deep purple bruises on her neck.
Anyone with a functioning mind could guess what had happened.
She had been choked.
And the culprit stood right there.
Leo, unable to control himself any longer, threw a punch straight at Adrian Voss.
Adrian wasn’t a passive man either—he had his own rage, his own grief, and his own chaos.
And so, the two men erupted into a violent, heated fistfight right there in the room.
"How dare you, you bastard... how dare you lay your hands on her?"
A powerful punch landed squarely on Adrian’s face, sending him stumbling several steps backward.