CHAPTER 6

JUDY’S POV

After witnessing the unsettling scene between Chris and Katarina, I made up my mind to steer clear of him altogether.

Avoidance seemed like the safest option, considering what he had done to me. The memories of his actions haunted me, and I couldn’t help but wonder: was this who he truly was now? Did he treat Katarina—or any other girl—the same way he had treated me?

The thought gnawed at me, a mix of curiosity and unease twisting in my stomach. It wasn’t as though I had ever seen him with someone else, at least not in the past. Chris wasn’t the type to flaunt relationships or bring anyone to his place.

It had always been just the two of us back when things were different, when we were closer than anyone could understand. His home had been a second sanctuary for me, a place where I thought I was safe. Now, the memory of those moments felt distant, almost surreal, like a story from someone else’s life.

I wondered if Katarina, with her bold confidence and relentless charm, had somehow breached the walls Chris had built around himself. Or maybe she was just another target for his anger, his bitterness disguised as control.

The questions swirled, but no answers came, leaving me more confused and unsettled than ever. Despite everything, I hated that a part of me still clung to the Chris I used to know.

As I made my way toward the toilet, my mind preoccupied with avoiding any unnecessary encounters, something sharp and unexpected yanked me back. My heart jolted violently, a mixture of shock and dread flooding through me.

Before I could even process what was happening, I found myself in an empty classroom, the door shutting behind us with an ominous finality.

Chris stood before me, his presence dominating the small space. His eyes were unreadable, but the intensity in them made my stomach churn. I could feel the tension radiating off him, suffocating and unrelenting.

"Chris," I managed to say, my voice trembling. "What are you doing?"

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his broad frame blocking the only exit. The silence was deafening, amplifying the erratic thudding of my heart. I clenched my fists, trying to steady my nerves, but the weight of his stare was unbearable.

"You’ve been avoiding me," he finally said, his tone low and accusing.

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement, as if he had been keeping track of every move I made. I swallowed hard, summoning every ounce of courage I could muster.

"Maybe I have a reason," I shot back, my voice shakier than I intended.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. "A reason? Is it because of what you saw with Katarina?"

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. The memory of their interaction replayed vividly in my mind, sending a fresh wave of anger and hurt surging through me.

"It doesn’t matter," I said quickly, averting my gaze. "I don’t care what you do, Chris. Just let me go."

But he wasn’t having it. In one swift motion, he closed the remaining distance between us, his presence overwhelming.

"You do care," he said softly, his voice laced with a confidence that infuriated me. "You wouldn’t be avoiding me if you didn’t."

My chest tightened, the whirlwind of emotions threatening to break through. Anger, confusion, and the faintest flicker of something I couldn’t quite name battled for dominance.

"Let me go, Chris," I repeated, more firmly this time, though the quiver in my voice betrayed me.

His gaze bore into mine, as if searching for something—an answer, a reaction, anything. And for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw a crack in his icy façade, a glimpse of the Chris I once knew. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the same unreadable mask.

“Not that easily after earning so many black points!”

“Black points?”

“For disobeying me.”

I swallowed my saliva out of fright because now I know that my worst nightmare is about to begin.

“First, for not staying away from Jason… Secondly, for trying to avoid me and lastly for lashing out at me as if I’m your boyfriend or something!”

“Chris, I- I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah?” he smirked.

“Jason is the one who came to pick me up,” I started.

“I don’t give a fuck, slutty Judy… Did you both cum in the car?”

“No!” I yelled out of anger not only because of what he had just said but because of what he had referred to me as.

“How dare you shout at me? How many punishments are you looking forward to, slutty Judy?”

Realising that things could get messier if I wasn’t submissive, I quickly apologised.

“I- I’m sorry.”

“Too late!”

Chris immediately pulled out his tie and blindfolded me. He was quite harsh and I got so scared that my heart was pounding against my chest.

“Please, don’t hurt me.”

"Hurt you? I'll not let you die yet. I’m not quite done having fun with you."

What? Did my life mean so little to him? Was he actually planning to torment me until I took my last breath? The thought sent a cold shiver down my spine, wrapping me in a suffocating grip of fear.

Chris let out a low chuckle, the sound dripping with amusement. He was actually enjoying this—finding pleasure in the sheer act of intimidating me, in the fear he knew he was stirring inside me.

I fought to keep my emotions in check, swallowing down the lump rising in my throat as I forced myself to hold back the sadness that was threatening to consume me.

My voice trembled slightly, but I managed to steady it enough to ask the question that had been haunting me.

"Chris," I began softly, my words barely above a whisper. "Why? Why have you suddenly become so disgusted with me? What did I do to deserve this?"

He stood motionless, his silence cold and heavy, like an ominous storm brewing in the distance. Even if I could take off the blindfold and glimpse at his face, I knew deep down I would still be staring at a stranger.

I was nothing more than a bothersome insect.

The silence stretched on, suffocating and unbearable. My heart sank deeper with every second that passed without an answer, the hollow ache in my chest growing sharper. Finally, Chris moved, breaking the stillness.

I heard him reach out for his belt, the motion deliberate and unhurried. My pulse quickened as the leather slid free from the loops of his jeans, the sound sending a shiver down my spine.

"Kneel," he said, his tone carrying a weight of authority that left no room for argument. "Stretch out your hands."

My breath caught in my throat, disbelief mingling with a growing sense of dread. I hesitated, the world around me blurring as I tried to process his words. Kneel? Stretch out my hands? What was he planning to do? My mind raced, every fibre of my being screaming at me to run, to escape, but his gaze held me captive, rooted to the spot.