If you've forgotten the previous chapters, let me remind you: Hazel and Chris made a deal where Chris is supposed to make Hazel fall in love with him within the next 6 months. If he fails, he will willingly give Hazel a divorce.

In the previous chapter, it was Day One of Chris trying to win Hazel's heart-he cooked food for her.

*****

Hazel lay on the bed, the early morning light casting soft golden rays through the sheer curtains. The faint sound of birdsong slipped through the open window, but it didn't bring peace. Not to her. The Ac , its rhythmic hum too familiar, too quiet against the storm still raging in her mind.

It had been a month. A full month since she agreed to give Chris a chance. A month of watching him try-cooking her favorite meals, keeping a cautious distance, remembering the little things. A month of her pretending not to care, pretending that his presence didn't curl around her like invisible vines pulling her closer. And yet, the tension between them had only deepened.

She stared at the ceiling for a moment longer, her eyes unfocused. Then she turned to the clock. 7:30 AM.

She flopped onto her side with a sigh, letting her head sink back into the pillow.

Her mind, traitorous as ever, drifted back to that night.

The night Chris went completely mad.

The night he set her room on fire.

Flashback:

They were standing in the middle of her temporary room. It wasn't supposed to be permanent-just a substitute while the other was repaired. The room Hazel got after burning Chris room.

"You're not sleeping here anymore," he said firmly. "Our room is fixed. We're staying together now."

The maids were already picking up her things.

"I'm not sleeping in your room, Chris," Hazel said, arms folded. "You gave me time, right? Give me this too. I want my privacy. I don't want to wake up to-" she paused, biting her tongue.

"Wake up to what?" he asked, stepping closer.

She met his eyes. "To a nightmare like you."

Chris didn't flinch. "You said you'd give me a chance."

"I am. I'm eating with you, talking with you-"

"Talking back, yeah," he cut in, lips twitching bitterly.

"Whatever. I'm not staying with you. I'm happy here. Please don't disturb the little peace I have," she said, sitting back down on the bed.

Chris stared at her for a long second.

Then, silently, he turned and left.

Hazel exhaled, surprised that he had simply walked away. But the quiet didn't last.

Moments later, Chris returned.

The maids were still in the room, halfway through packing. She waved them off. "Leave it. I'm not going anywhere. Actually, take all of it. I don't even want to see this stuff anymore."

Then she noticed the can in Chris's hand.

"What's that?" she asked sharply.

Chris said nothing. He twisted the cap open, and the harsh, chemical scent of kerosene filled the room.

"What the hell are you doing?!" she shrieked.

"Burying whatever's making you stay away from me," he said coldly, and without waiting, he started splashing the kerosene around the room. " get out " he ordered the maids and they did .

"Chris, stop!" she shouted.

He didn't. His face was blank, focused, like a man on a mission. He splashed it on the floor, the walls, the furniture-each splash like a stab to her sanity.

He passed her, expression unreadable, and poured the last of it directly onto the bed.

"Chris, this isn't funny!"

He dropped the now-empty can and reached into his pocket.

Hazel's breath caught.

He pulled out a lighter.

"Don't you dare," she warned, voice trembling.

He flicked it on. A steady flame danced between his fingers.

His eyes locked onto hers.

"Chris," she whispered.

"You either come back to our room willingly," he said, "or this room-and whatever's keeping you here-burns to ashes."

"You're insane."

"I might be. But I won't let anything come between us. Not even your stubbornness."

"Put the lighter down," she pleaded, stepping forward.

"I'll burn everything that stands between us," he said, stepping closer to the bed. "Even you, if I have to."

Hazel's heart thudded in her chest.

He held the lighter above the bed.

"Okay!" she screamed. "Okay, I'll share the room with you. Just stop!"

Chris smiled.

And then... he let go.

Hazel lunged forward, trying to catch it, but it was too late.

The bed ignited instantly, flames curling up the mattress like greedy fingers.

Horrified, she stared as the fire roared to life.

Chris didn't flinch. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her out of the room as staff rushed in to put out the flames.

He didn't look back.

His grip was iron. His pace, unshaken.

He dragged her straight to his room and only let go once they stood in the center.

Hazel's chest rose and fell in rapid gasps as she looked at him.

"We're husband and wife," he said darkly. "I shouldn't even have to ask you to share a room with me. And you said you'd give me a chance, so keep your promise. Because if you're just playing with me, Hazel... I swear it won't end well."

End of flashback.

"Psychopath," Hazel muttered.

"Such a bastard," she added mentally. "All he knows is force."

"Psycho bastard!" she shouted aloud.

A deep roar startled her, cutting through her thoughts.

She sat up, glaring at the source.

"Shut up, idiot! If you've inherited your dad's possessiveness, go cry to him!" she snapped at the tiger lounging on the couch.

Instead of leaving, Blaze-Chris's pet tiger-rose, padded over to her, and climbed onto the bed. He rested his massive head on her lap.

"Stay away," she warned.

Blaze let out a low, warning rumble. She froze.

Just then, the door creaked open.

"You woke up? Need anything?" the maid asked, peeking in.

"No," Hazel muttered.

Hazel looked down at Blaze, the tiger Chris had gifted her-or cursed her with, as she often thought. The majestic beast lay curled at her feet, head nestled against her legs, tail flicking lightly like a child dozing beside a mother. To any outsider, it was a heartwarming picture. But to Hazel, it was control disguised as affection.

"OK, you guys are bonding well. Tiger bonding well with his mom," the maid had said with a giggle before walking out.

Hazel rolled her eyes. "Shut up. Get out," she snapped, already irritated.

Once the door clicked shut, Hazel's fingers twitched slightly as she glanced down at Blaze, now softly purring. She should have been scared, maybe even furious-but she was just... tired. Tired of the manipulation, the games, the mind-bending control disguised as love.

"Mom and Dad? What a load of rubbish. He uses everything to control me," she muttered bitterly.

Flashback:

It had only been three days since Hazel moved back into their shared bedroom. Not willingly, of course. It was the price of keeping the house from being set on fire. Again.

"Hazel, it's been three days. Why are you still sleeping on the sofa?" Chris asked, arms crossed, voice low and brooding.

She didn't even look up from the book she wasn't reading. "Can't you just let me sleep here in peace? I came to your room, wasn't that enough?"

"No. It's not enough. You'll sleep with me on the bed. I won't touch you. I swear."

Hazel scoffed. "Then why do you want me on the bed?"

"Because I want you to sleep comfortably. And because this stupid sofa keeps you away from me."

She turned to him then, her eyes weary and sad. "This dream of yours isn't going to come true. Until I'm with you-until I truly choose to be-you won't sleep comfortably, and neither will I. That's how this works, Chris."

Chris crouched down beside her, eyes glinting with a mix of tenderness and madness. "You think I don't know that? You think I'm not suffering every second you choose distance?"

She closed her eyes. "Just stop dragging me to the bed every night. You keep disturbing the little sleep I manage to get."

his voice breaking as he whispered, "Do you know what it's like to watch someone you love sleep in the same room but not in your arms?"

Hazel turned toward him slightly. "You burned a room down to make me share one with you."

He didn't deny it.

"I would burn the world to be with you."

She stared at him. "That's not love, Chris. That's obsession."

He reached out and took her hand gently. "Then let it be obsession. Let it be madness. Let it be anything but distance. Because I can't live another day watching you drift away."

Hazel looked down at their hands.

Her heart said run.

But her body... it didn't move.

"You'll sleep on the bed. That's the end of the discussion," he said, voice final.

"And if I don't? Will you force me again?" she challenged.

Chris smiled. But it wasn't a kind smile. It was a crooked, twisted, unsettling grin. "No. I've got another plan."

And he walked out.

---

Later that night, Hazel had fallen asleep sitting up against the headboard. She didn't even notice Chris re-enter the room.

But she woke up to the sound of soft footsteps and that all-too-familiar scent of his cologne.

"Don't you dare get up," he said, standing by the door.

She blinked sleepily, alarm rising. "What'll you do if I do?"

"Not me... but Blaze might."

He whistled.

A few seconds later, the door creaked again. A white tiger-huge, regal, and terrifying-strode into the room. Hazel's heart skipped a beat. Blaze. Her so-called bodyguard. Chris's madness given fur and fangs.

The tiger growled lowly, locking eyes with her.

Hazel scrambled backward against the headboard. "Chris-"

"Easy, buddy, she is your mom" Chris said, placing a hand on Blaze's head. The tiger fell silent.

"Mom?" Hazel repeated, shocked.

Chris nodded casually. "Yeah. I'm his dad. You're his mom. Family bonding, you know?"

"You've gone insane."

"Whatever. He's here to make sure Mommy doesn't leave the bed without Daddy's permission. Got it, Blaze?"

Blaze sat calmly in front of Chris, obedient, alert.

Hazel swung one leg off the bed.

Blaze growled sharply.

She pulled her foot back up immediately, heart hammering.

"Okay! Fine! I'll sleep on the damn bed! Just send him out!"

Chris walked over, climbed into bed beside her. "No. He stays. He likes it here."

"You're sick."

"He'll be trained. He'll know when to let you out and when not to. What to do when you disobey."

End of flashback

Hazel stared at him in disbelief. And the worst part? Blaze stayed. Every night. Every morning. Like a guard dog, only worse. He obeyed Chris like a soldier but treated her gently. He slept by her feet. Followed her everywhere. Guarded her. A prison guard with fur.

Now, as Blaze purred against her lap, Hazel's fingers gently brushed over his head. He didn't growl anymore when she touched him. He had grown fond of her. Still, she knew his loyalty wasn't hers-it belonged to Chris.

She lay back again, back against the headboard, sighing.

Blaze was her comfort and her cage.

She closed her eyes again.

And the memory pulled her in deeper.

Another Flashback:

It had been a week since she moved back into the room. Chris had planned a movie night.

"Where are you taking me?" Hazel asked, eyes heavy with exhaustion. Her voice lacked energy, her body even more so. It had been a long day, and her soul felt even longer.

"Just come," Chris replied, holding her hand as if it were the most natural thing to do.

"It's nighttime, Chris, and I'm tired. I want to sleep," she said, digging her heels in as she slowed down.

Chris stopped walking and turned to face her. His voice was low, but there was an edge to it. "As if I don't know you're going to overthink the whole night-cursing under your breath while looking at my face, blaming me for making you share a room with me."

"Making? You forced me," she shot back.

He exhaled sharply, clearly holding back something darker. "How do you expect to fall for me when all you do is resist? First, you protest the marriage, then sleeping on the same bed, and now a simple movie night? I'm trying here, Hazel."

"If you stop forcing me, then maybe I'd stop protesting," she snapped.

He didn't say anything to that. Just turned and led her further into the house. She followed, reluctantly, her body moving out of instinct rather than agreement.

They stopped in front of a closed wooden door. Chris pushed it open, revealing a small but elegant private cinema room. There were only two recliner chairs, a massive screen, dim ceiling lights, and the soft hum of a projector ready to come alive.

Hazel raised an eyebrow. "You never brought me here before."

"I forgot this room existed," he said. "But now that I remember, let's sit."

Before she could even respond, the maid walked in with a tray-two buckets of popcorn, a couple of cold drinks, and some snacks. She placed them on the small table in front of the chairs and left quietly.

Chris pulled out her chair for her.

Hazel didn't thank him. She simply sat down and leaned back against the plush cushion. "Play whatever you want. I'm not going to watch. I'll sleep," she said, closing her eyes.

She tried. She really did. But within minutes, the soft ambient lighting, the surround sound, the dialogue of the film-it was all too compelling. Her curiosity peeked through the cracks of resistance, and her eyes opened, just a sliver. Before she realized it, she was fully watching.

Chris noticed, but didn't say anything. He only smiled.

She grumbled under her breath. "Well, what choice do I have? I can't leave-your son is sitting at the door ready to bite me if I try."

The massive white tiger, Blaze, sat at the entrance, calm but alert. His piercing eyes followed every subtle move Hazel made.

Chris chuckled. "He likes you."

He handed her the smaller bucket of popcorn. She hesitated, but then grabbed it. Might as well, she thought.

For the next hour, neither of them spoke. The movie played. Occasionally, their fingers brushed in the bucket. Chris didn't say anything. Hazel didn't acknowledge it. But she didn't pull her hand away either.

She hated to admit it, but she was enjoying the film.

Eventually, her eyelids grew heavy again. She didn't even know when she drifted off-just that the warmth of the seat and the comfort of the room lulled her into slumber.

But then she felt him.

A soft kiss landed on her forehead. Warm. Gentle.

Chris.

"I'm sorry for forcing you," he whispered, almost like a prayer to the silence. "I just want to be with you. I don't know how to love gently, Hazel... but I swear I'm trying."

She wanted to wake, to push him away, to scream at him. But her body betrayed her. Her heart betrayed her.

He slid his arms under her body and lifted her as if she weighed nothing. Her head lolled softly against his shoulder.

As they reached the door, he spoke again. This time to Blaze.

"Let's take Mom to her room, buddy."

The tiger stood and padded beside them like a loyal soldier.

End of flashback.

Hazel's eyes blinked open. Her hand reached instinctively to her chest.

Why was her heart racing?

Why the hell hadn't she pushed him away that night?

---

Blaze, now sprawled at her feet, was quietly snoring. The massive creature had grown fond of her over the weeks, following her like a shadow, sleeping beside her, curling near her feet.

Chris had trained him, just like he said. Trained him to protect her. Trained him to control her.

She hated how he kept his promises. That was the dangerous part about Chris.

Hazel sighed, running her fingers gently over Blaze's fur. The tiger didn't growl this time. He purred.

She leaned back against the bed, eyes on the ceiling.

This wasn't love.

This was madness.

But a part of her was slowly, steadily growing numb to it.

And that terrified her more than anything else.

She was recalling all the moments she had with him-some filled with resistance, his control, and the strange forcefulness that wrapped around her like chains, while others were tinted with a gentler hue: his undivided care, his watchfulness, and the way he looked at her like she was the only person who existed.

Flashback

"Hazel? Hazel!" His voice cracked through the fog of her dizziness. She barely heard it.

Chris was sitting on the floor on his knees, tapping her cheeks gently, panic lacing his voice. Her skin was flushed red, her breath shallow. She had collapsed near the dining table, her lips slightly trembling.

" Hazel, open your eyes," he whispered, before scooping her into his arms with one swift motion.

He carried her to their room and laid her down carefully on the bed. She could faintly hear voices around her.

When she regained her consciousness fully, she saw Chris standing near the doorway, speaking to a doctor.

"She's allergic to something?" the doctor asked.

"Almonds. I'm sure. But I've made sure none of it is allowed in the house," Chris replied firmly.

Just then, the maid entered the room, nervously.

"Sir... I'm so sorry," she said hesitantly.

"Why?" Chris asked, eyes narrowing.

"Madam ate the dessert sent by your mother. She said she added extra almonds since you liked them a lot-she thought you'd be the one eating it. I didn't realize she gave it to Madam."

Chris turned to look at Hazel. She had her eyes closed, pretending not to hear anything.

"How could you eat it without checking, Hazel? Idiot," she muttered under his breath.

The doctor intervened, "Don't worry, I've given her the medicine. She'll be fine. Just avoid any such ingredients in the future."

"None of it should be allowed in this house again," Chris barked at the maid, and she nodded quickly, rushing out.

End of flashback

That day, Hazel learned something strange-the very thing that she was allergic to, almonds, was something Chris loved. Yet, after that, she never saw anything with almonds again in the house. She heard him commanding the staff to eliminate it completely from the kitchen. And in the days after that incident, he took care of her like he was afraid she would break.

He didn't force her that week, not like usual. The only kind of force he used was to make her drink the bitter medicine or to rest properly.

And then, how could she forget the time she got her period.

Flashback

It was sometime past midnight. Hazel tried to get off the bed quietly, but the moment her foot hit the floor, the tiger roared.

"Let mom go, idiot," she whispered to Blaze annoyed, but he stayed put, growling.

Chris turned on the bedside lamp. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened. Go back to sleep and tell your furry kid to let me go to the bathroom."

Chris narrowed his eyes. "You're clutching your stomach. Everything alright?"

"Yes! Just let me go."

"Blaze let her go," he commanded. Blaze obediently sat back.

Hazel hurried to the wardrobe, grabbed what she needed, and rushed into the bathroom. She didn't return for more than fifteen minutes. The cramps were that bad. She sat on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees, sweating and muttering curses.

A soft knock came on the door. "Hazel? Are you alright?"

"Yes!" she snapped.

"Then why aren't you coming out?"

"I'll just go back to bed after this."

"Is something wrong?"

She opened the door with a scowl. "Can't you just sleep like a normal human?"

"I'm worried, Hazel. You look like you're in pain."

"No. I'm fine."

Chris didn't answer. He reached for his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Calling the doctor."

She stopped him by gripping his wrist. "No need. Everything's fine."

He stared at her. "You're lying. You're in pain."

"I'm on my period, idiot."

"Oh. Oh. You should've told me."

"And what exactly were you going to do about it?"

He paused. "Do you have painkillers?"

"No. And I'm stuck here, remember? I can't exactly step out."

"You don't need to. I'll go. Just give me ten minutes." And with that, he left the room.

Minutes later, he came back in with a hot water bag and painkillers.

End of flashback

For the next five days, Chris had transformed. There was no control, no madness, no forced rules-only care. Gentle, strange, and attentive care. He stayed in the room with her, brought her herbal teas and warm drinks to ease the pain, readied warm baths when she couldn't get up on her own, cooked light meals, and even brought her chocolate and ice cream.

She had never seen that version of him before-like he wasn't a maniac obsessed with control, but just someone hopelessly in love with someone fragile.

Hazel stared at the sleeping Blaze curled beside the bed, his soft breathing almost rhythmic. Her hand went down to rest on the tiger's head. The beast didn't flinch. He didn't growl anymore when she touched him when it's not necessary. Chris had trained him well, just like he'd said.

Not just trained him-trained her. To respond, to stay, to belong.

Hazel leaned back, her eyes catching the dimmed room around her. Her gaze softened as she whispered to herself, "This man is driving me insane."

She recalled all his contradictions. One day, he was the kind of man who'd trap her with a tiger in the room so she wouldn't leave the bed. The next, he'd stay up all night just to check on her breathing when she had a fever.

And every time she tried to hate him-really hate him-something inside her pulled her back. A memory. A gesture. A whisper.

The way he had said, "I don't know how to love gently, Hazel... but I swear I'm trying."

She clutched the blanket tighter around her and blinked at the ceiling. That day, he kissed her forehead after the movie and said sorry.

"Why didn't I push him away?" she murmured.

The answer was hidden somewhere deep in her chest-behind her stubborn heart and the war she constantly fought with herself.

Maybe, just maybe... she didn't want to.

And that terrified her more than anything Chris could ever do.

*******

From the past month, Hazel's life had become a twisted mix of obsession, suffocation, and an unsettling kind of devotion. Chris wasn't just possessive-he was completely consumed by the idea of her. His presence hovered over her like a shadow, dark and comforting all at once. Hazel, once an independent, sharp-tongued woman who never let anyone control her, now found herself waking up every day to his madness. It came in different shapes-sometimes cruel, sometimes caring-but it never stopped. Not for a moment.

She sat by the large window in their bedroom, staring outside. The early morning sun painted golden rays across the marble floor. It looked peaceful, calm, unlike the storm inside her. With a sigh, Hazel whispered to herself, "Five months more... Just five months, and then I'll leave."

Her voice barely faded when the bedroom door cracked open. She stiffened. Her fingers curled tighter around the coffee cup she hadn't even sipped yet. The scent of strong espresso mingled with his familiar cologne-dark, spicy, unforgettable.

Chris entered slowly, casually, like he owned the air in the room. And maybe, in a way, he did.

Buddy, their massive white tiger, was already curled up beside her bed, his golden eyes half-lidded in sleep. Chris glanced at the beast with a smirk. "Blaze's having his time with Mom, huh?"

Hazel didn't respond. She rolled her eyes and turned her face away, choosing to admire the view outside rather than acknowledge the man who'd built this golden cage around her.

"Good morning, love," Chris said cheerfully, as if nothing in their dynamic was twisted. He walked to the edge of the bed and sat down beside her.

"What now?" she asked flatly, voice void of energy.

"Get ready," he replied.

"For what?" she said without even looking at him.

"Some of my close friends are dropping by. Just to say hi. Like a small housewarming. They'll be here in an hour."

"I don't have the mood for any of this," Hazel muttered.

Chris leaned closer, his voice lowered, almost coaxing. "What if I told you that if you behave, smile, be the perfect wife in front of my friends... I'll make one of your wishes come true."

Hazel stared at him. "Any wish?"

He nodded. "Any wish. Except asking to leave me or meeting Vincent. Everything else is on the table."

She hesitated. Her heart was pounding now. That was a good deal. If she played along, maybe she could negotiate something more. Something she could use to her advantage. She wanted to say no, to rebel, but five months was a long time, and survival meant choosing her battles.

"Deal," she said quietly.

"Deal," he replied.

He stood up, walked toward the wardrobe, and picked out a dress-a soft champagne-colored dress with a subtle shimmer that danced in the light. He laid it on the sofa gently, like it was precious. Then, from the drawer, he retrieved a velvet box containing minimalist jewelry: small earrings and a thin gold bracelet.

"This will look good on you," he said, placing them near the saree. "Not too loud, but just enough to match your glow."

Hazel clenched her jaw but nodded. "Okay. I'll join."

"Good," Chris said, already walking toward the door. "See you soon. And Hazel... thank you."

She didn't answer.