The Heavenly Demon of Terror Chapter 14: The Cold Confrontation

I could hear the faint rumble of an engine approaching, growing louder as it neared the villa. A sharp, familiar sound. Abigail.

I stood still for a mont, waiting as the sound of tires against gravel slowly faded. "I wouldn't be surprised if she brought another man ho," I muttered to myself. "But she better prepare for the consequences."

I kept my focus on the driveway, watching as Abigail stepped out of the car. My eyes narrowed. She didn't bring anyone with her this ti. Interesting. But then again, I wasn't particularly concerned anymore. She was still the sa—her face alone was enough to fill with disgust.

I turned and started walking toward the guest room, trying to shake off the anger simring inside . That was when I heard her voice.

"Samuel! Let's talk!"

I paused but didn't turn to face her right away. My hand tightened around the door handle. "What could she possibly want now?"

I sighed and turned to look at her, my tone cold. "Ms. Bardot, is there anything you want to ask?"

She took a step closer, her eyes searching mine for sothing, maybe answers or so semblance of the man she once knew.

"What happened to you, Samuel?" she asked, her voice tinged with a mix of confusion and... fear?

I smirked, feeling the bitterness rise in my throat. "I died slowly," I said flatly.

Her face went pale as she stepped back slightly, her breath catching in her throat. "Died slowly?" she repeated, her hands trembling at her sides.

I took a slow step toward her, my voice low and unflinching. "Ms. Bardot, you brought countless n into our bed over the years, and I had to listen to you moan and laugh with them. You think it didn't kill every ti I heard it?"

I paused for a mont, watching her expression change—her eyes flickered with sothing. Regret? Or was it guilt? I wasn't sure anymore. "But you know why I didn't stop you?"

Her lips parted, but no words ca out.

I continued, "Because I loved you. If breaking could bring you the pleasure you craved, then I was okay with it."

I pulled up my sleeve slowly, revealing the cigarette burns on my forearms—marks that had been hidden from her for years. She looked at them, her expression faltering. "During my childhood," I said, my voice colder than ever, "I was the target of physical violence, and it didn't break . But you? You broke every day, piece by piece."

She was silent, her eyes fixated on my arms. Her face had drained of color. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words ca out.

I took another step closer, my tone ice-cold as I t her gaze. "You wanted to make suffer. Because I left you in the past when your family went bankrupt and your parents took their lives because of it. You couldn't let go of the anger, the bla. So, you made suffer, over and over, until I was a shadow of the man I once was."

Her breath hitched, her eyes now wide with shock and horror.

I watched her, waiting for a reaction, but she just stood there, frozen. "You wanted to make suffer more, didn't you?" I asked, my voice calm. "Well, I'm ready."

I let the words hang in the air, knowing they hit harder than anything physical. "I've already died a million tis in your hands, and this ti, I want to see my end. That's why I asked for a divorce."

I looked her in the eye, my voice low and firm. "I want to find a place where I can die in peace. Because all I've ever felt from you was tornt. And now, it's my turn to be free of it."

Abigail's face contorted in disbelief, her hands shaking as she opened her mouth to say sothing. But no words ca. Her lips trembled, and I could see her trying to process everything I had said.

"Samuel..." she whispered, almost pleading.

I cut her off, my voice sharp. "It's too late for apologies, Abigail. You've already taken everything from . There's nothing left but for to walk away from this."

I turned toward the guest room, not looking back, hearing her soft sobs echo through the hallway. I didn't care anymore. "This is my life now."

As I entered the guest room, the door closed softly behind , and for a mont, the silence swallowed whole.

The weight of the conversation with Abigail still hung heavy in the air, but I refused to let it consu .

I had finally spoken the truth, laid bare everything I had been holding inside. And now, it was ti to focus on what ca next.

I walked to the center of the room, my steps deliberate. The room felt suffocating, but in a strange way, it also felt like freedom—the kind of freedom that ca when you stopped pretending and just accepted the darkness of the situation.

Then, a familiar ping echoed in my mind.

I froze, my hand hovering over the chair as I heard the unmistakable sound of a system notification.

The blue screen flashed in front of my vision, and I instinctively opened it.

---

[Hidden Quest Completed: Break Abigail's Control Completely]

Objective: Force Abigail to realize she no longer holds power over you. Make her regret her actions.

Reward: Charisma 10, Hidden Skill Unlock: Resilience of the Broken.

---

I stared at the screen, the words sinking in. The Hidden Quest had been completed. The one thing I hadn't realized I was working toward—the thing I had unknowingly achieved.

"I did it..." I muttered, a bitter chuckle escaping my lips.

"She never saw it coming," I added, glancing at the door I had just closed behind . Abigail was probably still in her room, reeling from the weight of everything I had just thrown at her. The truth about her actions, about her manipulation—it had cut deeper than any of the other things I'd said, I was sure of it.

I couldn't bring myself to feel sorry for her, not after everything. The ga had changed, and I was no longer the man I once was.

"Resilience of the Broken," I repeated, the skill unlocking before my eyes. "Let's see what this can do."

I focused on it, letting the system guide . Instantly, a new wave of strength seed to surge through . Not physical strength, but sothing deeper. It felt like I was immune to emotional damage, like I could endure anything, no matter how much it hurt.

The realization hit like a jolt. "It's like I'm untouchable now."

---

Just then, I heard a knock at the door, followed by a familiar voice—Abigail's voice.

"Samuel, please... we need to talk."

I didn't move. I didn't even flinch.

"Not now, Abigail." My voice was cold, controlled, almost empty.

She knocked again, a little louder this ti, her voice trembling.

"Please, Samuel... don't shut out."

I turned away from the door, my back to her as I stood in the center of the room. The echoes of the conversation we'd just had filled my mind, but they were no longer important. The ga had shifted.

"You don't control anymore."

She remained silent outside the door. I didn't need to see her face to know the frustration, the confusion, the hurt. But I didn't care anymore.

I was no longer the man who begged. The man who was weak. I was stronger now, and every word I'd said, every piece of truth I'd thrown her way—it was just the beginning.

I turned toward the window and looked out at the city beyond. The view was familiar, yet for the first ti, I saw it differently. The weight that had been suffocating was gone.

And as I stared into the night, I couldn't help but smile. The past was over. The future was wide open.

I was free.

And now, it was ti for Abigail to face the consequences of what she had done.