Their Secret Obsession by Pippa Moon

Chapter 0300

Chase POV

I whipped my head around, my heart racing, and there was Astaroth, lounging lazily on a lavish red velvet sofa. It was the kind of setup you'd expect in some grand, twisted palace-extravagant and disturbing at the same time. He was watching me like someone watches their favourite show, a delighted smirk playing on his lips.

Beside him knelt a man, gaunt and barely clothed, wearing nothing but filthy rags that barely clung to his bruised and battered frame. Chains rattled from the man's wrists, the metal digging into his raw, scabbed skin. His eyes were hollow, and the sound of his laboured breathing filled the eerie silence as he hand-fed grapes to Astaroth like a broken servant.

The contrast between them was stark-Astaroth, relaxed and gleaming with power, his eyes sharp and predatory, and the poor soul next to him, beaten down by what I could only imagine was endless torment. The sight sent a chill crawling up my spine, a sickening reminder of the hellish world Astaroth commanded. He took a grape lazily from the man's trembling fingers and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly as though savouring every bite. The man didn't even flinch, his gaze lowered in complete submission. "So how is big bro doing?" Astaroth asked, but he paused as he caught the disbelief on my face, his smirk widening.

"What? Surprised?" he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "You act like you've never seen someone enjoy the finer things in life." I couldn't tear my eyes away from the poor man beside him, the marks of torment clear across his too-thin body. Bruises, some old and yellowing, others fresh and purple, covered his skin, and the chains seemed to weigh more than he did. I couldn't fathom how anyone could survive that level of abuse. My stomach churned, and I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look away from the horrifying sight. "Disbelief suits you, Chase," Astaroth continued, his eyes never leaving mine as he took another grape. "You always did have a problem comprehending the real power at play here." He gestured lazily toward the man, who continued to serve him without so much as a twitch of emotion. "He's been down here for quite some time. A little broken, sure, but useful. A loyal subject."

"Loyal?" I spat, barely able to contain my revulsion. "You call that loyalty? He's broken, tortured. You've destroyed him."

Astaroth chuckled darkly. "Oh, Chase. You're still clinging to those old, tired notions of morality. Down here, there is no loyalty without suffering. It's through suffering that you learn true submission, true devotion."

his face burning in my chest. But my body stayed frozen, rooted to the spot as though the very air around me was

and mocking. "He doesn't even flinch anymore.

again, my heart pounding in my ears. I wanted to help him, to break him free of the chains that bound him, but I knew in my gut that this was far beyond anything I could fix. This wasn't just physical torment; this was Astaroth's twisted version of control, of breaking someone down until there

I saw something-desperation, a flicker of hope. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by the dead-eyed compliance

thick with

I'm a monster with power, Chase. And you? You're still fumbling around in the dark, trying to make sense of things you'll never truly understand." The words hung in

uttered, motioning behind me to where the door used to be, my voice shaking despite my attempt to sound firm. "Why? How?" Astaroth merely laughed, a low, chilling sound that sent another wave of dread through me. Astaroth leaned back against the plush red velvet, his fingers plucking another grape from the bowl, eyes gleaming with amusement. He popped it

the hellish scene in front of me. My voice shook despite my attempt

innocently, his tone dripping with mockery, though his eyes danced with that smug glint that told me he knew exactly what I was referring to. "Don't play dumb with me," I snapped. "You know exactly what I mean." I clenched my fists, trying to suppress the rising anger. He raised

softly, the words like

boiled, the words escaping my lips before I

"Connie."

grape into his mouth, as though

he