The hours crawled by in a hazy blur. The sedative had done its job, leaving me in a state of dull lethargy, drifting in and out of a restless half-sleep. As dusk bled into a deep, starless night, a subtle shift occurred in the atmosphere of the penthouse. The hushed movements of the staff seemed to cease, replaced by an almost palpable tension. A quiet murmur of voices drifted from the hallway, too low to make out any words.

Then, the heavy door to my bedroom clicked open.

The figure silhouetted against the dim hallway light was unmistakable. Levi. He stood there for a moment, his posture unreadable, before stepping fully into the room. The soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminated his face, revealing a carefully neutral expression.

He was dressed impeccably, as always, in a dark suit that seemed to absorb the shadows. He moved with a quiet grace, closing the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the stillness of the room.

"Good evening, Pulla," he said, his voice low and even, but without the usual cool edge.

"You... bastard..." The words scraped my throat, still thick with the remnants of whatever he'd pumped into me. My thoughts felt sluggish, like trying to wade through thick mud. "...you locked me in here... then you..." I couldn't even fully articulate the betrayal, the violation of being drugged in my own room.

"I understand that my actions have caused you distress, Pulla. And for the lack of security that led to the attack, and for the manner in which I subsequently confined you, I offer my sincere apologies. I accept my shortcomings in failing to ensure your safety."

"Wha... you… apologize"

He took a step closer, his dark eyes holding mine with an intensity that felt almost… earnest. "Yes. My priority has always been your safety, however misguided my methods may have seemed. I see now that I have mishandled this situation. So, tell me, Pulla. What must I do to earn your trust?"

His words hung in the air, each one a carefully placed stone in a path I wasn't sure I wanted to walk. "What are... you saying?" I managed, my voice still rough.

He took another step, closing the distance between us, his gaze never wavering. "I am saying that since the moment we met, I have never betrayed you. Never disrespected you intentionally. Never done anything that could truly be called disloyal. And yet," his eyes flickered briefly towards my injured shoulder, a shadow crossing his face, "even after everything that has transpired – the attack, my… regrettable handling of the aftermath – you still hold some type of grudge. A deep one, it seems."

His words were unexpected, almost a plea. It was unsettling to see this usually impenetrable man seemingly seeking my understanding, my… forgiveness?

“You locked me in here and drugged me. If that's not a reason for a 'grudge,' I don't know what is."

“To be perfectly candid, I did not lock you here. Given the nature of our public relationship, every single property I own is being monitored by an army of press. Since the investigation has a slow nature, there is no guarantee a stroll outside might be safe. On the terms of ‘drugging’ incident. Yes, I synthesized the sedative myself. Since I knew you would have a reaction to the situation.”

"So, I'm not locked in," I repeated slowly, testing the weight of his words. "I'm just... conveniently contained within your heavily monitored properties for my own good?" The sarcasm dripped from my voice. "And the sedative? That was just a little personalized calming cocktail, brewed with my best interests at heart?"

He didn't rise to my bait. His expression remained serious, his gaze unwavering. "The distinction, while perhaps semantic to you, is important. My intention was never to imprison you, but to safeguard you in a secure environment while the threat remained unknown. As for the sedative," he continued, his voice matter-of-fact, "given your previous reaction to similar substances, I deemed it the most prudent course of action to ensure your well-being and prevent any further distress or impulsive actions that could have jeopardized your safety or the investigation."

His logic was infuriatingly circular, twisting his controlling actions into acts of concern. "So, in your world, drugging someone against their will is an act of protection?" I challenged, my anger starting to simmer again, pushing through the lingering haze of the sedative.

Levi’s gaze didn’t waver. “My definition is born out of necessity, Pulla. You are a unique individual, prone to… shall we say… passionate reactions. In a situation as volatile as this, with unknown enemies at play, ensuring a degree of calm was paramount. My methods may not align with conventional sensibilities, but they were, in my assessment, the most effective way to mitigate risk.”

He took another step closer, his voice softening slightly, though the underlying firmness remained. “Believe me when I say, Pulla, your safety is my utmost concern. The attack on you was… unacceptable. It was a failure on my part, a breach of the security I provide. And I assure you, I am taking it personally.” A muscle ticked in his jaw, a rare display of underlying tension. “My priority now is to ensure it never happens again. And I need your cooperation to do that.”

“My cooperation? Cooperation. Apparently, you can have it by sticking a needle in my arm, you asshole.”

Levi turned sharply towards the door, his hand already reaching for the handle. "Indeed," he said, his voice cool and dismissive. "It appears your… emotional state currently renders you incapable of rational discourse. Time, as always, is a precious commodity. While you compose yourself, I will dedicate my resources to locating the individual who dared to breach my security and threaten you."

He paused at the door, his gaze flicking back to me, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "Consider this, Pulla. My methods may be unorthodox, but they are ultimately aimed at ensuring your continued well-being. A well-being that is currently under threat. Choose wisely how you wish to proceed." With that, he opened the door and was gone.

Despite the lingering fog in my head and the heavy limbs that were still protesting, a surge of panic shot through me. He was just going to leave?

"Levi!" I called out, my voice hoarse and weak. "Levi, wait!" The words echoed in the silent room, unanswered. I tried to sit up, the effort sending a wave of dizziness crashing over me. The room swam for a moment before settling back into focus. "Levi!" I tried again, my voice louder this time, desperation lacing the edges. Silence. I tried to sit up again and succeeded. Although weakly, I followed Levi.

He was at the living room, which I trashed in the morning.

He was pacing in front of the panoramic window, his back to me, his voice low and intense as he spoke into his phone. Even from this distance, I could sense the coiled tension in his body, the focused energy that radiated off him when he was in command.

"...the security footage... every entry and exit point... I want names, faces, everything. And Annie?" He paused, listening intently. "Increase the perimeter surveillance. I don't want a single shadow moving without us knowing."

He ran a hand through his dark hair. "No, I don't care about protocols. This was a direct attack. Treat it as such. And keep Raphael secure. I don't want him out of your sight."

He ended the call abruptly, turning from the window. His eyes met mine across the wreckage of the room, and for a fleeting moment, I saw something in them, cold fury.

"I believe I instructed you to remain in your room, Raphael," he said, his voice dangerously low, each word clipped and precise. The earlier semblance of concern had vanished entirely, replaced by the iron control I knew all too well.

He took a step towards me, his movements deliberate and menacing. "My priority is dealing with the individual who dared to target you. Your insubordination is a distraction I do not have time for. Return to your room, Raphael. Now. And do not attempt to leave again."

My shoulders slumped slightly, the fight draining out of me. "Sorry for being a little… bitchy," I mumbled, not meeting his intense gaze. I finally turned to look at him, my voice softer now, tinged with a plea. "Please... just admit that you went a little overboard today, Levi."

Levi's expression softened infinitesimally, the hard edges around his eyes easing ever so slightly. It was a small concession, barely perceptible, but it was there. He let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing almost imperceptibly.

"Perhaps," he conceded, his voice still low but losing some of its earlier menace. "My methods, as I have stated, are often… direct. In my urgency to ensure your continued safety and apprehend the responsible party, I may have acted precipitously. The situation is volatile, Raphael. My priority remains your well-being. But I acknowledge that the manner in which I ensured it today could have been handled… differently."

He didn't offer a full apology, not in the traditional sense. But, it was a silent truce.

A slow smile was placed on my face. “Yeah. Just don’t drug me next time.”

A ghost of a smile touched Levi's lips in return, a fleeting expression that softened his features. "A fair request," he murmured, his gaze holding mine for a moment longer. "I will endeavor to find less intrusive methods in the future, should the need arise. However," his eyes flickered towards the shattered remnants of the morning's chaos, "a degree of cooperation would significantly reduce the likelihood of such measures being necessary."

“Come on. What’s a broken vase between a married couple?”

"Indeed, Pulla," he replied, his voice regaining a touch of its usual dry wit. "A broken vase is, in the grand scheme of things, a minor inconvenience. However, the manner in which it was broken… that speaks volumes about the level of… frustration we were experiencing."

He paused, his gaze softening slightly again, a hint of something warmer entering his eyes. "Perhaps, in the future, we can find more... constructive ways to express such feelings. Less destructive to both property and trust."

“You know my method. Just curse. Swear it out.”

"Oh, my vulgar Pulla," he murmured, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Even if you exhausted every colorful expletive in your impressive repertoire, I assure you, my anger regarding this incident would not subside so easily."

He flickered his pointer finger to call me next to him. I obediently walked to him.

He waited until I was standing close, the space between us now minimal. His gaze, though still intense, held a warmth I rarely saw directed solely at me. He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against my arm, a fleeting touch that sent a surprising shiver through me.

“My dear Pulla, this is the highest room in the entire capital. Human eyes do not have a limit of sight, which means, it can see everything. Allow me to demonstrate what it means to raid my domicile with weaponry, and openly harm my husband.”

Levi’s grip on my jaw was firm, possessive, his thumb stroking my cheek with a disturbing tenderness as he forced my gaze towards a distant mansion nestled amongst the city lights. It looked peaceful from this distance, oblivious to the storm brewing in this penthouse high above.

"That mansion, my Pulla," he said, his voice a low, dangerous purr, "is currently infested with… vermin. According to the rather thorough intel I have acquired, they are enjoying a delightful dinner, no doubt congratulating themselves on their cleverness." His grip tightened slightly. "They are under the distinct impression that by 'easily getting rid' of my husband – you – they have rendered our marriage null and void."

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A cold fury flashed in his eyes. "They believe that I, Levi Blake, will simply remarry some suitably noble woman and and continue as the unimpeded heir to the Blake house. They think they have orchestrated a convenient tragedy." He chuckled, a sound devoid of humor. "They have severely underestimated my capacity for retribution."

His gaze flickered back to mine, the warmth replaced by a chilling resolve. "Tonight, my dear Pulla, they will learn the true meaning of disrupting my life. They will learn that harming you is akin to signing their own death warrant. Consider this a demonstration of my unwavering devotion."

"Wait... Levi, what..." The question died on my lips as a sudden, horrifying spectacle unfolded in the distance. A flicker of orange, then another, erupted from the seemingly peaceful mansion. Tendrils of smoke began to curl upwards, quickly growing into angry plumes that billowed against the night sky.

Levi's smile widened, a terrifyingly bright and genuine expression that sent a shiver of pure dread down my spine. He snapped his fingers, the sound sharp and decisive in the silent penthouse, a conductor leading a deadly orchestra.

"There," he said, his voice almost gentle as we watched the inferno begin to consume the distant building. "Consider that their acknowledgment of my displeasure. A small taste of what happens when someone attempts to erase you from my life, Pulla." The heat from the imagined flames seemed to reach us even from this distance. His grip on my jaw loosened, but his eyes, reflecting the growing firelight, held me captive. "They wanted to nullify our marriage? Perhaps now they'll have more pressing concerns than my marital status."

“What the fuck? So being a genocidal is not enough; you are also an arsonist now?”

Levi chuckled softly, a low, dangerous sound that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Arsonist? My dear Pulla, such crude terminology. Think of it as... aggressive landscaping. A necessary pruning of undesirable elements."

He gestured vaguely towards the inferno with his free hand. "You see, Pulla, there are those who understand the delicate balance of power, the respect that is due. And then there are those… less enlightened souls who require a more… tangible form of persuasion. A language spoken not in words, but in the eloquent roar of destruction. It clarifies matters rather efficiently, would you not agree?" His eyes flickered to mine, a strange curiosity in their depths, as if gauging my understanding of his twisted logic.

The sight of the inferno, coupled with Levi’s chillingly detached explanation, sent a wave of nausea and terror crashing over me. My legs felt suddenly weak, unsteady. This wasn't just about protecting me; this was about a terrifying display of power, a brutal and public execution of anyone who dared to cross him.

I stumbled backwards, away from the window and the horrifying spectacle it framed. My breath hitched in my throat, and a desperate urge to put as much distance as possible between myself and this man – this monster – overwhelmed me.

“Oh, Pulla? Are you quite alright?”

I could feel his presence behind me, the air around him radiating a cold, dangerous calm that was far more terrifying than any raised voice.

"What is it that's bothering you now, dear?" he continued, the endearment sending a fresh wave of nausea churning in my stomach. "The rather… dramatic display of my affection? Surely you do not think I would let anyone harm you without a proportionate response?"

“You… You are a monster. This isn’t about me. It’s about your fragile control, your pathetic need to crush anyone who dares to breathe the same air of authority. You didn’t do this for me; you did it to them, to remind the world – and me – that you are the only one who holds any real power.”

A sigh, soft and laced with a hint of weary amusement, escaped Levi's lips. "Ah, Pulla, always so eager to dissect the motives of a devoted heart. Such… suspicion. It almost suggests you believe I am not entirely… transparent in my affections." He took another step, the warmth radiating from his body feeling less like comfort and more like the heat emanating from a furnace.

“How many people are going to burn to their deaths tonight? That’s just the price of bruised pride, isn’t it? A few lives extinguished to soothe your wounded ego because they dared to… underestimate the great Levi Blake?”

“Ah, that again? Your… misplaced empathy for those who sought your demise. Their lives, Pulla, were forfeit the moment they made that choice. Their suffering now is merely the… untidy epilogue to their fatal error. Strive not to dwell on the fleeting discomfort of the insignificant.” His gaze flicked back to the fire with a detached air, as if observing an interesting but ultimately unimportant phenomenon.

“You… have no fucking salvation, no absolution. Just… let me leave… Let me try to find some semblance of peace before you consume everything.”

"And once again, my efforts are met with such… profound misunderstanding. To be seen as a 'malevolent shadow' when all I seek is to shield you from the true darkness. It seems my devotion is consistently twisted into something monstrous in your eyes, Pulla. A truly… disheartening reflection on the depth of our connection."

Levi’s smile didn’t falter, but the warmth in his eyes had long since been extinguished, replaced by a glacial intensity. “My dear Pulla,” he murmured, his voice smooth as polished steel, “salvation and absolution are irrelevant concepts.”

He took another step, his presence looming. “Leave? Return to the vulnerability you so readily embrace? I think not. You are under my protection now. A protection they so foolishly sought to circumvent.” His gaze flickered back to the inferno, a flicker of something akin to satisfaction in their depths. “Their underestimation was fatal. A lesson others will learn. And your distress, while… noted, will not alter the fundamental truth: you are safer with me, under my control, than anywhere else in this city.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek, a touch that felt like ice. “Consider this not an act of malice, but a demonstration of my… loyalty. A loyalty to ensuring nothing ever threatens you again. Even if that requires a little… aggressive pruning.”

“No…” I whispered, the single word heavy with despair and the horrifying understanding of what he had done. “I didn’t want this, I didn’t want you go out your way and burn a mansion full of people…”