Ray POV
"Claudia Reed…"
That name escaped my mouth as the slim figure of the scum woman who once insulted me as a coldhearted bastard left my office.
More than a decade had passed since our breakup, but the rage welling inside me still existed—stubbornly clinging to my cold, dead heart even after she had completely moved on.
She hadn't changed at all. Still rash, emotional, and stubborn.
She had always been the perfect victim for the men she fell in love with—be it Miles, me, or any other man out there.
Why?
Because Claudia wore her heart on her sleeve. She was easy to read and always showed her affection as if she truly had nothing to hide.
When I first paid attention to her back in the university days, I realized she was the "affectionate and honest" type of woman who would be popular with men.
Normally, I wouldn't give a damn even if a woman was gorgeous.
But I was bored back then, and had never been romantically involved with anyone in my life, so I decided to give it a go in the name of an experiment about love endorphins.
However, the more time I spent with her, the more uncomfortable I became. I had always thought of myself as a man whose heart was dead and thus feared nothing.
Yet whenever she stared at me with eyes glimmering with love, I couldn't bear to meet her gaze.
I would avoid eye contact, and whenever she tried to hold my hand, I immediately yanked it away, because my skin was burning with an unbearable itch crawling beneath it whenever we had a skin-to-skin contact.
I didn't know if she had done something to me, or if her honesty was simply too much for a filthy bastard like me.
I couldn't bring myself to be intimate with her because I'd feel like I'm starting to lose myself, and I grew even more restless whenever she tried to talk to me.
But I still couldn't bring myself to break up with her.
So I kept her within arm's length, pushing her away from time to time.
But when she was the one who initiated the breakup…
Rage surged through me, fiercer than anything I had ever known—even stronger than the hatred I once held for my stepmother.
I felt betrayed, disappointed, angry… and most of all, loss.
For years I drifted away with those feelings like a boatman who had lost his sail, carried across an endless sea with nothing left but the slow wait for death.
At first, I expected relief. I wouldn't have to stay by her side anymore or endure the discomfort of losing control over my own body and heart.
But as time passed, the anger and sense of loss never faded. They simply lingered and rooted themselves deep inside my heart, like a parasite.
Eventually, I couldn't endure it anymore and began acting on my instinct, even if it was illogical.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
This woman—this witch—was the first and only woman who had ever made me feel this way.
And I hated her for it.
She had taken control of a part of my heart, forcing me to think of her every night before I slept, and every morning when I woke up.
Slowly, I slid open the drawer and took out a notebook I had kept for a long time.
Its title read:
"Rat Labs."
This contained all the data I had collected on my patients.
I studied psychiatry to better understand human nature, because ever since the torture inflicted on me by my stepmother—Miles' mother—I realized my sense of humanity had dulled.
Except when thinking about Claudia, I barely reacted to anything, be it joy, sadness, anger, or even despair.
Everything felt soulless, and nothing truly mattered to me.
But I had to keep up the masks I wore every day. I had to appear happy when something "good" happened, and "sad" when it was necessary to show it in front of my clients.
It eventually became a habit. I liked seeing how these people struggled with their lives. Of course, I still maintained my professionalism and gave them proper advice and instructions.
But humans weren't like robots who would strictly adhere to instructions. They would screw up, mess with their lives, or make terrible mistakes along the way.
And that was what made my lab rats interesting.
The way they made mistakes even when they were given clear guidelines.
"Just like you, Claudia," I muttered as I opened a new blank page in my Rat Labs journal. "You made a mistake by breaking up with me and marrying Miles instead. The moment you accepted his proposal, your fate was sealed."
As I was about to write her name with my gold pen, I paused for a moment, then closed the Lab Rats journal.
Then I took out another book from my drawer—thicker, with many pages torn in between.
The name on the cover was…
Claudia.
I skimmed through all the notes I had written from my observations of this scum woman over the past ten years, then opened page 251 out of 500, which showed another blank page.
Then I started writing about her.
About the woman who had become a parasite latched onto my brain, haunting me day and night.
—
Entry #251
About Claudia
She has finally returned to me.
She wasn't as willful as she was when we broke up.
But she also wasn't flourishing or happy.
She was like a withering lily of the valley—beautiful, frail, yet still stubbornly clinging to life just to see her daughter again.
I thought she would be full of rage toward Miles after what had happened. But she doesn't seem angry at him, nor does she seek revenge, at least not in the way I expected.
So I will make sure she has no way out except through me.
She escaped me once, and she will not escape me again.
Just as she plunged me into a hell filled with intense rage, I will drag her down with me as well.
So we can burn together.
For eternity.
—