---- Chapter 5 Emerson Keller POV: The darkness was a living thing. It pressed in on me, thick and suffocating, filling my lungs with the dust of old fears. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic bird trapped in a cage of bone. | stumbled through the void of my bedroom, my hands outstretched, searching for a wall, a light switch, anything to anchor me in the swirling blackness. My phobia wasn't just a fear of the dark; it was a fear of the absolute helplessness that came with it. Of being trapped, unseen, and utterly alone. | was eight years old again, locked in the dusty attic closet during a game of hide-and-seek gone wrong. | could still feel the phantom sensation of cobwebs on my skin, hear the scuttling of unseen things in the corners. My parents had found me hours later, hysterical and hyperventilating. And Barron knew. He had stored that piece of my vulnerability away like a weapon, waiting for the perfect moment to use it against me. The memory of his cruel, knowing smile before he plunged me into darkness fueled a new kind of fire within me. He wanted to break me? He wanted to reduce me to a terrified child? No. | wouldn't give him the satisfaction. The heiress he thought he ---- had crushed was gone, but she hadn' t been replaced by a victim. She' d been replaced by something harder, colder. Something forged in the crucible of his betrayal. Revenge. The word was a mantra in the dark. | would survive this. | would get out. And | would dismantle his world just as he had dismantled mine. Just as that resolve solidified in my heart, something brushed against my bare ankle. It was soft. And it was moving. A scream tore from my throat, raw and unrestrained. | kicked out wildly, scrambling backward until my back hit the wall. | slid down to the floor, pulling my knees to my chest, my whole body trembling. What was in here with me? What had he put in here? My skin crawled with the imagined sensation of a thousand tiny legs. Spiders. Snakes. Rats. My mind supplied a litany of horrors. | could feel them, everywhere. Slimy, scuttling things slithering over my skin, tangling in my hair. | clawed at my arms, my face, trying to brush away the phantom creatures. The darkness was no longer empty; it was teeming with his malice. | screamed until my throat was raw, until my voice was nothing but a hoarse rasp. | don't know how long | was in there. Hours? A lifetime? Finally, the lock clicked. The door swung open, flooding the ---- room with the soft light of the hallway. Barron stood there, his face a mask of concern. One of the maids was behind him, looking horrified. "My God, Emerson, what happened?" he asked, rushing to my side. | flinched away from his touch, my body still shaking uncontrollably. "Get away from me," | croaked. He ignored me, his hands running over my arms, my face. "You' re hysterical. What did you think was in here?" He looked around the empty, pristine room. "There' s nothing here, my love. It was just the dark." His gaslighting was so blatant, so audacious, it was almost brilliant. He acted as if my terror was a figment of my own unstable mind. "You' re a monster," | whispered, staring at him with all the hatred | possessed. He sighed, that weary, disappointed sound again. "You need to calm down. For your own good." He helped me to my feet, his grip inescapable. "| think it's time you apologized to Cydney. Perhaps seeing you be remorseful will help you regain some perspective." He led me, stumbling and disoriented, from the room. My skin still felt like it was crawling. Cydney was waiting in the living room, a triumphant smirk on ---- her face. She was now wearing one of my favorite cashmere dresses, the fabric stretching taut over her swollen belly. "Well, look what the cat dragged in," she sneered. "Finally ready to beg for forgiveness?" "Cydney," Barron said, his voice a gentle warning. She ignored him. "You know," she said, stepping closer to me, "| was the one who suggested the dark. Barron was hesitant, he's so soft on you. But | told him, sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. It' s for your own good, really. To teach you a lesson." So it was her idea. They were partners in my torture. A cold, calculated calm descended over me. | looked at her, at the smug satisfaction on her face, at the gentle swell of her stomach. And | smiled. "You' re right, Cydney," | said, my voice steady. "You' ve taught me a valuable lesson." | took a deliberate step forward. She tensed, expecting another attack. Instead, | simply extended my foot and hooked it behind her ankle. It was a subtle, almost imperceptible movement. She went down like a stone, crying out in genuine shock and pain as she landed hard on the polished floor. "Cydney!" Barron roared, lunging for her. ---- He shot me a look of pure fury over his shoulder. "You will pay for this, Emerson. | swear to God, you will pay for this." He scooped Cydney into his arms and rushed towards the door, shouting for his driver to take them to the hospital. He left me standing alone in the silent, opulent penthouse, the echo of his threat hanging in the air. | knew he meant it. | knew that whatever punishment he had in store for me would be far worse than darkness and imagined horrors. But as | stood there, a strange sense of peace settled over me. He had thrown down the gauntlet. And | was ready to play his twisted game. Because | knew something he didn't. He thought he was breaking me. He was actually setting me free. The fear was gone, burned away by the cold fire of my rage. All that was left was the plan. And Keenan, who was already on his way. Title: A Princess? No! I'm the Female General! In "A Princess? No! 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