<h4>Chapter 138: Chapter ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY EIGHT: Zain’s Madness</h4>


    Christy’s POV


    For a moment, I genuinely forgot how to breathe.


    My brain couldn’t even process the scene properly at first, it felt like my eyes were glitching, rejecting what I was seeing because it didn’t make any sense. Callie was on her knees, wearing my face, that disgusting skin mask... and Curtis stood over her like he was doing something holy instead of somethingpletely deranged.


    They both froze the moment the door swung open.


    Callie yanked the mask off so fast that part of her hair got stuck under it. She stumbled backward, scrambling away from him like a kicked dog, her breathing loud and panicked. She didn’t even look at me as shame had swallowed her whole.


    She ced the mask gently on top of the cab like she was handling fragile ss, then practically bolted out of the bathroom without meeting my eyes.


    Only Curtis remained and he didn’t look ashamed for being caught in such a disgusting act.


    Instead he looked proud and stared at me with a smile like a man who believed he hadn’t done anything wrong.


    "You’re... you’re an animal," I finally managed to spit out. My voice felt strange, shaky, as if my throat was still deciding if I wanted to scream or throw up.


    Curtis didn’t even flinch, instead, he continued smiling at me. That slow, creepy smile made my skin crawl.


    "My dear," he said softly, "you misunderstood, I have never been with another woman. I kept myself just for you."


    Iughed and it sounded cracked and hysterical, representing how I was feeling at the moment.


    "You think that makes any difference? You are sick, Curtis. You are beyond sick. You’re.... "


    He suddenly took a tiny step toward me, and I instantly stepped back.


    His eyes softened as if I was some upset toddler instead of the woman he kidnapped.


    "All of this," he said, sweeping his hand gently around the room, "is for you.. You don’t have to be scared. You don’t have to fight me, I will take care of you better than anyone else ever could."


    I shoved his hand away the moment he got close enough.


    "Don’t touch me."


    For the first time since I met him, I saw confusion flicker across his eyes. Not anger. Just confusion like he genuinely couldn’t understand why I wasn’t ttered.


    He blinked, then nodded to himself and let out a soft sigh.


    "You must be tired," he murmured. "Adjusting to a new home will take time. I’ll make dinner, something simple that you will definitely like."


    He turned with a kind of gentleness that made me even more ufortable, then walked out without waiting for a reply.


    The instant the door shut, I exhaled like I had been underwater for hours.


    I rubbed my arms, the scratches throbbing, my entire body felt grimy and wrong. Everything about this ce, the portraits, the forced gentleness and the twisted obsession in his eyes was designed to trap me emotionally as much as physically. He didn’t need chains.


    I paced the room several times before copsing back onto the bed.


    My brain felt overloaded. Nothing made sense anymore. Curtis had been arrested. He had been interrogated. There was no sign, no hint, no crack in his expression back then. So how? How did he n all of this? How long had he been pretending?


    It was too much.


    Eventually, my exhaustion overpowered my fear. My eyelids grew heavy, my body sinking into the mattress despite the anxiety squeezing my chest.


    I didn’t realize I had drifted off until a hand grabbed my ankle.


    Before I could scream, my body was yanked off the bed with brutal force. My back mmed onto the cold floor, knocking the air out of me.


    I gasped, trying to suck in some air, but another force lifted me again and this time, my body flew sideways.


    My shoulder collided with the wall so violently that bright stars burst behind my eyelids and an intense pain shot down my spine.


    "What.. " I choked out, but my words died when fingers closed tightly around my throat.


    I finally saw who was attacking me, it was Zain and he looked like he really wanted to kill me.


    His eyes were red, veins bulging across his forehead like he hadpletely transformed into something feral. His whole body trembled with rage as he pinned me against the wall with one hand, squeezing harder and harder.


    "You—" he rasped, spit flying out of his mouth andnding on my face . "I’ll kill you... I swear I’ll kill you!"


    My hands wed at his wrist, trying to pry him off, but he was too strong. I couldn’t breathe and my vision began to blur at the edges, pulsing ck dots dancing in front of me.


    "What... did I... do?" I forced out, barely audible.


    "This is for Kendrick!" he roared. "This is revenge! He ruined everything! He deserves to suffer! And I’ll make him suffer through you!"


    My lungs burned and my legs kicked weakly. The room tilted, warping into something surreal and distant. All I could hear was the pounding of my heartbeat slowing... slowing...


    I was right at the edge of consciousness.


    And then, Zain jerked violently.


    His hand suddenly loosened around my throat, and I fell to the floor, coughing aggressively as air wed its way back into my lungs.I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision.


    Zain was staggering and his knees buckled.Behind him stood Curtis with a syringe in his hand.He had stabbed Zain in the back with it.


    Zain tried to lunge at me again, but his arms gave out before he could even move half a step. His entire body copsed face down in front of me.


    "What.. what did you inject him with?" I whispered, my voice still hoarse.


    Curtis didn’t look at me. He crouched beside Zain, checking his pulse with the casual calmness of someone checking the weather.


    "Enough to stop him," he murmured. "Not enough to kill him. I don’t share what belongs to me."


    I flinched at thest sentence.


    Zain groaned, barely able to lift his head. Whatever was in that syringe drained himpletely, but it didn’t silence him.


    "You bastard..." he spat weakly. "Let me go... I need to kill her... Kendrick deserves to lose everything..."


    Curtis’ expression hardened instantly.


    "You need to shut up," he said quietly.


    But Zain kept talking, his voice strained but sharp.


    "Kendrick killed my parents!"


    My heart stopped as I observed his expression to see if he was lying but he seemed to be saying the truth as the pain, anger and hatred in his eyes couldn’t be faked.


    "What... what are you talking about?" I whispered, leaning back against the wall.


    Zain lifted his head slightly, just enough so he could re at me through his bloodshot eyes.


    "Kendrick... your precious hero.. " he choked out, coughing. "He killed them... both of them. My father and.. "


    He swallowed hard.


    "..Our mother, Lauretta."


    I felt the air leave my lungs again.


    Lauretta... Lauretta is dead?


    My heartbeat thudded painfully against my ribs. How was Kendrick doing now?


    "How?" I asked in shock. "When? Why would Kendrick... "


    "He did it!" Zain yelled, tears sliding down his face. "He killed them! He destroyed everything! He ruined my life!"


    Curtis grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head back.


    "Shut your mouth," he hissed. "You don’t get to question Christy’s reality. She is mine."


    I stared at Zain in disbelief, my mind spinning.


    Lauretta.


    Dead.


    Kendrick killed her?


    That couldn’t be true.


    Kendrick wouldn’t... he couldn’t... H..


    But how did Zain know?


    Why would he lie while he was this weak? Why would he lie at all?


    Zain let out a brokenugh.


    "You don’t believe me? Of course you don’t. You’re just like him, Blind,stupid and always trusting the wrong person."


    "Zain, you’re lying," I whispered, mostly to myself. "You have to be lying."


    "I saw her body, in the video I received ," he said, his tone dropping into something eerily calm.


    The world tilted.


    My breath hitched.


    Kendrick never told me anything about Lauretta. Not once. Not even a hint.


    "Why would he kill her?" I whispered.


    Zainughed again, hisugh was just a hollow, broken sound.


    "Ask him," he said. "When you get out of here... If you get out."


    Curtis finally mmed Zain’s face back into the floor, pinning him down with a single hand.


    "That’s enough," he snapped.


    But my mind kept reying Zain’s words over and over, like a torturous echo that wouldn’t stop.


    Lauretta is dead.


    Kendrick killed her.


    I shut my eyes tightly, willing my heartbeat to slow down, but it only grew louder, faster, more frantic. My throat still burned from Zain’s grip, and my body was shaking uncontrobly.


    Curtis turned toward me, his expression softening instantly when he saw the tears gathering in my eyes.


    "My dear," he said softly, "don’t listen to him. He’s unstable. He’s confused."


    I didn’t answer.


    I couldn’t.


    Because for the first time since this nightmare began...


    I felt something new.


    Not fear.


    Not anger.


    Not exhaustion.


    Just worried about Kendrick and how he is handling the loss.


    I know something must have happened, he would never harm his mother.


    Curtis knelt in front of me, gently brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear.


    "You must be in shock," he said softly. "Come. I’ll help you lie down."


    I pped his hand away and he smiled again.


    "As you wish," he replied. "Try to rest, Dinner will be ready soon."


    Then he dragged Zain out of the room like he was carrying a bag of trash, the door shut behind them.


    I slowly crawled back onto the bed, every movement painful. My throat throbbed, my shoulder felt like it was made of broken ss. But none of thatpared to the chaos in my mind.


    Lauretta is dead and Kendrick... A killer?


    No... No... He would never!


    That couldn’t be true, he will never do such a thing.