When The Puppet Falls For The Puppeteer

"Not Until I Am Alive."

The idea made my stomach churn, the idea of sharing him. The crown on her head, his hand in hers, and me—always there but never enough.

I needed to know. To understand her, not as a rival in the hallway or the smug cheerleader at assemblies—but as a person. What she liked, what she hated, what I could use to make her say no.

I drew a breath, my voice heavier than I meant it to be.
"Ash... tell me about Jessica. What is she really like? What does she even want? What are her... likes and dislikes?"

Ash blinked, startled, turning her head toward me. I could see the hesitation in her eyes—her mind working through whether this was safe ground to step on. Her mouth opened, a small "Well— just—

When Marcus's hand clamped harder at the back of my neck.

The grip was sudden, unyielding. His voice sliced through the room before Ash could breathe another word. "How Dare You!?"

The air in the room shifted. The lighthearted movie became background noise, hollow and mocking.

Dan was the first to speak, his voice firm, low.
"Marcus. Calm down."

Marcus didn't look at him. His fingers dug harder into me. "You dare," he repeated, his voice slicing through the quiet, "to ignore me in front of them? In front of my brother!"

Ash froze. Dan's jaw flexed, his body taut, but he stayed seated, his eyes locked on his brother.

I tried to steady my breath, but my chest felt crushed under the weight of his grip. I reached blindly for strength that wasn't there, forcing the words past my throat.
"I wasn't—"

"Don't lie to me," Marcus snapped, yanking me back a fraction, his thumb grazing dangerously at my throat

I stiffened. Every nerve screamed to fight, to shout, to push him away—but the fear was stronger. Fear of what he'd do if I defied him here. Fear of what Ash and Dan would see.

Dan's voice cut through again, more insistent this time.
"Marcus. Enough."

That only fueled him. He jerked me a little closer, his voice dropping into that dangerous low register.
"You think you can embarrass me like this? Stand up."

My body moved on instinct, trembling as I rose. His hand stayed locked on the back of my neck, dragging me up like a disobedient child.

"Look at me."

I did. And I refused to speak.

The anger in his eyes sharpened, flickering almost into disbelief. As though he couldn't comprehend that I wouldn't just fold. He wanted the words. He needed them.

"Say it." His voice was lethal. "Say you're sorry."

I swallowed hard, but the word stuck like glass in my throat. I could feel Ash's gaze, Dan's tension, the whole room bracing for me to yield. But I held still.

"I won't," I whispered, barely audible, my nails biting into my palms.

The temperature seemed to drop.

Marcus's hand tightened, hard enough to make me gasp. His face was inches from mine, his fury raw.
"You think you can defy me here? In front of them?"

Dan surged forward then, his voice sharp.
"Marcus! Enough. You're going to hurt her."

Marcus didn't release me. His knuckles whitened against my skin. His fury wasn't just about Jessica anymore—it was about me, about my refusal to bend. His need to crush it was palpable, a storm barely held in check.

I held his gaze, even through the sting of tears rising. My chest screamed for air, but my pride screamed louder: I won't beg.

His jaw twitched. And then, his voice like a final blow—
"Say it, Myra."

I broke.

"I—" the word shattered in my throat. "I'm sorry."

Not for what he thought. Never for that. But the word fell anyway, humiliating, because his hand wouldn't let me breathe until it did.

His grip eased, just slightly, but the victory in his eyes cut deeper than the pressure on my skin.

"Don't ever do that again. Don't ever fucking defy me again" he said with so much dominance that I almost cried I nodded and left.
My knees wobbled, but I walked away, my face burning with the taste of defeat.

And I hated myself more for the tears I didn't want him to see.

"Myra" I heard Ash coming after me.

"Seriously." I heard Dan's frustrated voice

"Stop," Marcus said, and I froze. Every instinct screamed at me to move, but I couldn't. He stepped closer, deliberately, and captured my hands. His eyes softened—just enough to make my resolve tremble.

"I know you're tense," he whispered, his thumb brushing my knuckles. "I know what's brewing in your mind. But don't lose yourself in this. Don't get pulled in. I'll take care of it... hmmm."

A strand of hair fell across my face, and he tucked it behind my ear. His touch was gentle—too gentle—and it made my stomach twist in confusion and fear.

"You will be the Mayor, Marcus," I said, shoving his hands away. My voice shook, low and determined. "And you will not marry Jessica Hales. Not until I am alive."

Every step I took away from him felt like walking on fire, every breath a struggle. My defiance burned alongside my fear, and yet, somewhere deep, I knew this wasn't over.