Chapter 391: My Precious

I couldn’t shake the memory of what I’d seen in the basement. The bodies under those white sheets—completely exposed—had been coated with some strange substance. The thought churned my stomach. Even though he hadn’t done that to them, the idea of Yael manipulating lifeless forms was disturbing enough.

“Yael, I’m really tired today,” I said, my voice trembling. “Maybe we can do this another time.”

He stepped closer, cutting off my retreat with deliberate ease. “Chloe, there’s nothing to worry about. I won’t hurt you. I just need to see your body. Silas damaged your original one, and I’ve regretted it ever since. This new body—it’s flawless. I want to study it properly.”

“Yael,” I stammered, my mind racing, “It’s cold. Undressing isn’t a good idea right now.”

“Chloe,” he replied, his tone calm, “This island stays warm all year. You won’t get cold.”

His hand moved toward my collar, fingers grazing the buttons of the shirt Carter had dressed me in earlier.

“Yael, stop!” I cried, my heart pounding.

With a swift motion, he yanked at the fabric. Two buttons popped off, and my shoulder was left bare, the strap of my top slipping into view. Horror washed over me as I realized what he could see: the marks Carter had left on me—bruises, kisses—spoke volumes about the night we’d shared.

Yael’s expression darkened. His voice grew icy.

“Chloe, your body is ruined.”

Panic gripped me. “Yael, you know I’m married. It’s normal for a husband and wife to—” My words faltered.

“Marks like these destroy the beauty,” he interrupted, his tone detached, almost clinical. His focus wasn’t on me as a person. It was his relentless pursuit of perfection in his art. Yet, the tension in the room made it hard to breathe.

I scrambled to calm him. “They’ll fade in a few days. We can continue once they’re gone, okay?”

A small smile crept across his face, but it brought no comfort. “There’s no need to wait. If something’s dirty, you clean it.”

“Clean it?” I asked, dread creeping in. “How?”

Images flooded my mind—horrific scenes of being scrubbed raw with a stiff brush or held down in some cruel attempt at purity. Or perhaps something even worse, an assault so cruel that it only existed in stories.

Before I could react, he bent and lifted me into his arms. He held me tighter, his voice low. “Don’t move, Chloe. I can’t promise what I might do if you fight. You’re so beautiful, and I’m still a man.”

My body froze. Fear locked every muscle in place. I didn’t dare move, didn’t even dare to breathe. A quiet laugh drifted down from above me. “Chloe, you’re so sweet. I feel like kissing you.”

“You don’t,” I said sharply, meeting his gaze.

At least he wasn’t consumed by desire in the way he was obsessed with his art. His words might unsettle me, but he never crossed that line. Still, any sense of relief evaporated almost immediately. I found myself unable to smile or even cry. My body felt like it had been drained of any response.

He carried me effortlessly into another room. This one was nothing like the others. Instead of sculptures, it was filled with shelves of jars, strange devices, and stacks of vials. The sight made my stomach churn. Carter’s warnings about Bloodshade came flooding back—a group of so-called geniuses who thrived in secrecy, creating dangerous, illegal drugs that the world would never see.

Yael moved past the lab and into what looked like a washroom. Without a word, he placed me into a large bathtub. Panic surged in me as I instinctively tried to climb out.

His voice stopped me cold. “Chloe, if you run, I’ll have to cut off your legs. That way, you’ll behave.”

I froze, my fingers clutching the edge of the tub. I forced myself to stay calm, even as fear clawed at me. “The tub is dirty,” I stammered, grasping for something—anything—to slow him down. “It needs cleaning.”

He tilted his head and gave me a look that felt almost amused. Then he reached out, patting my head like I was some kind of pet. “You’re right. That’s your fault. Stay here, and I’ll clean it properly. Don’t move, Chloe.”

My legs refused to obey any urge to run. For all I knew, cameras were hidden in every corner of this place. Running without understanding the layout would be foolish.

“Fine,” I murmured, my voice tight. “I won’t move.”

Yael knelt by the tub and began scrubbing it with meticulous care. His dedication was unnerving. My anxiety rose with each passing second. Though he hadn’t laid a hand on me inappropriately, the idea of being so exposed around him made my skin crawl. For the first time, I felt an inkling of what Whitney must have endured. A single day with Yael was suffocating enough. She had survived years under Taylor’s rule. How had she managed to endure it?

When the tub gleamed, Yael filled it with warm water. Then he stood and motioned for me to get in. “It’s ready, Chloe.”

Grateful that he hadn’t asked me to remove my clothes, I climbed into the water fully dressed. It wasn’t ideal, but wet clothes were better than the alternative.

I thought the ordeal was over. That he’d simply wanted me to clean myself up. But I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Yael returned moments later, holding a small, dark bottle. Its label looked unfamiliar and untraceable, the kind of thing no legitimate pharmacy would carry.

“What’s in that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

He swirled the liquid inside the bottle as though it were precious. “It’s something to help you get clean, Chloe.”

“I can wash myself,” I said quickly. “There’s no need for anything.”

He smiled, a calmness in his voice that chilled me. “Don’t worry, Chloe. I’ll make sure you’re perfectly clean. Not a single blemish will remain.”

Yael opened the bottle and poured the liquid into the water. As the blue substance mixed in, a wave of panic surged within me. The liquid blended completely, disappearing without a trace. I couldn’t even tell where it had gone.

My pulse quickened. “What… what is this?”

Before I could finish, a sharp, searing pain shot up from my feet. “Ah!”

Though I was fully clothed, every part of my skin that touched the water felt like a thousand needles pricking my body. It was unbearable—like something out of a nightmare. The pain spread, overwhelming me. It felt like rolling in a bed of thorns or being poked with tiny, sharp needles. It was agony.

“Yael!” I screamed, drenched in sweat, my whole body trembling. I tried to pull away, desperate for any escape. But he held me down, pressing me deeper into the water.

“Does it hurt, Chloe?” His voice was soft but filled with something unsettling. “I’ll stay with you, okay?” His eyes gleamed, feverish. He stepped into the tub and held me tight, not allowing me to move.

“It hurts like hell! Yael, let me go! I can’t take this!” I cried, my voice strained.

“Just a little longer, Chloe. Soon, you’ll be clean. You’ll feel better,” he murmured.

The pain was more than I could stand. I gripped his wrist, digging my nails into his skin, drawing blood. He didn’t seem to notice, his face full of twisted affection.

“Chloe, forget about that man. Stay with me. Please.” He was out of his mind. This was madness.

“I won’t care about your past. After I clean you up, you’ll be mine. Only mine.” Wasn’t he feeling anything?

I couldn’t bear it any longer. My body shook from the pain. With all my strength, I fought to break free. “Yael, let me go!” I gasped.

But before I could say more, everything went black. I collapsed in his arms. As I slipped into unconsciousness, I heard his soft, possessive whisper, “Chloe, I love you…”