Page 175 of The Professor's Wife

“You’ll kill me next—”

“Daisy, calm down.”

“I’m done listening to you! There is nothing else you can take from me!”

And it was the truth.

I thought beyond my fear his only power over me was my boy, but he was gone. He had nothing he could take from me anymore.

I didn’t plan to run at that moment. But the moment my hand brushed the doorknob of the front door, and I felt the cold metal under my skin, it felt like something in me snapped free.

He saw it. I know he did. That flicker of hope.

And he was on me before I could even turn the knob.

His hand struck the door beside my head with a violent thud, making me flinch. His other hand gripped my wrist hard enough to bruise.

“You don’t get to leave,” he said, low and tight. “Not after everything I’ve done for you. You belong here.”

“I have nothing left,” I choked. “There’s nothing here for me anymore. Just you. And I’d rather be dead than trapped in this house with you!”

His eyes narrowed—just for a second—but I saw the part of him that hated when I told the truth.

“You want to run?” he said, his voice lowering. “Then maybe you need a reminder of what happens when you forget your place.”

My stomach dropped.

The cabin.

I kicked and thrashed as he dragged me back into the house. I screamed for him to let go. He didn’t listen. He overpowered me like I weighed nothing.

“You need structure,” he grunted through my thrashes. “You need order. That is the only way you will get through this, Daisy. Life is about suffering. Who said that?”

“Fuck you!” I sobbed, exhaustion slowing me down in his grip. “Fuck you, Oliver.”

“Nietzsche strongly believed in this, sweetheart. It’s time for you to get acquainted with him.”

When I didn’t stop fighting, he effortlessly threw me down on the kitchen floor. My hip crashed against the hard tiles. I letout a cry of pain as he then grabbed my hair and tugged sharply, pulling me by the hair to the other side of the kitchen.

“Hold still,” he demanded.

When I didn’t, he dropped down over me and wrapped a hand around my throat. I screamed, but it died short when he squeezed harder. His face darkened as he gnashed his teeth and leaned closer, growling, “I’ll do it, you know. Don’t make me do it, Daisy. It’ll be your fault. Stop.”

When I couldn’t breathe, I froze, paralyzed with fear. With him being the last face in my vision before I passed out or died.

He let go of my throat and gave me a gentle slap on the cheek. “Good girl.”

He stood up as I continued to lie there, barely breathing. He removed a set of keys and opened up the locked cupboard in the cabinet. I trembled, my eyes spotting as I wondered how the hell I got here. How did any of this happen?

Tears slid down my cheeks as a pill bottle shook from above me. He turned the faucet on and moments later he was crouched before me, holding a cup of water in one hand and two pills in the other.

“Drink it,” he said.

“Oliver, please,” I whispered, shaking.“Pleeeeease.”

“Drink it, or I’ll force it down your throat.”

I shook my head. “You can’t do this to me, Oliver.”