Possesive || FAYEYOKO ENGLISH VER.

Chapter 2 (Faye)

I spent my whole life searching for my father's killer—hiring the best detectives, spending a fortune—and it was worth it. When I finally found the person responsible for the scene I could never erase from my mind, I felt a strange mix of relief and anguish. Some memories remain etched in the soul, no matter how much time passes.

My father was always wealthy and a prominent loan shark. He spent his life lending money and investing in the stock market. As I was an only child, he did everything for me. My mother often said I was the son he had always dreamed of having. He used to tell me I would be his sole successor and that I should honor the family business—but avoid the loan sharking aspect.

We were a perfect family, except for that one small detail.

Then, everything changed when he began speaking about a man who was causing problems for his business—a man he said he would have to "deal with." At the time, I was already twenty years old and involved in the business, but I had no idea who this man was or why he was such a threat to my father.

One night, my father received a call from this man, saying that he was going to pay his debt. I wanted to go with him, but he refused, insisting that it was no need and that it was already late. So, he went alone. We had such a strong connection that, in the middle of the night, I couldn't shake the bad feeling I had. Unable to sleep, I went to his room and saw that he hadn't returned yet. I ran to the warehouse where we held our meetings, and when I arrived, I saw a scene I would never forget.

He was lying on the floor with a bullet in the middle of his head. From that day on, I swore that I would find the man responsible and make his life a living hell.

Finally, after eight long years, I found him. Killing him would have been too easy, but watching him suffer would be far more satisfying. I would take from him the person he loved most, just as he took from me the person I loved most in this world. He took my father from me by killing him. I would take his daughter and turn her life into a living hell—or better yet, I would make their lives a nightmare.

"Miss Malisorn, we've arrived!" the driver announced, parking the car slowly and discreetly.

"Well, now's the time. I've waited 8 years for this moment," I smiled victoriously as I got out of the car, accompanied by my loyal bodyguards. At that moment, nothing could stop me. I was driven by nothing but revenge.

I rang the doorbell and waited until a woman came to answer. I walked in confidently and sat on the couch, telling her to call her husband. She did so, clearly intimidated by my presence and the bodyguards at my side.

"Excuse me, I don't know you," he said, clearly confused.

In that moment, I wanted to kill that bastard with my own hands, but I had to remain calm and stick to my plan. That miserable man disgusted me. Knowing what he did to the person I loved most in the world awakened all the hatred within me.

"Of course you don't," I said coolly, my gaze sweeping over the cheap, common furniture in his house. He was still living in poverty. "But you knew my father."

"What is it?" he asked, paying close attention to my every movement.

"Dhanin Malisorn," I said, locking eyes with him. I watched as he turned completely pale, his mouth forming a perfect "O." "Remember me? Or do you need me to refresh your memory?"

"It can't be..." he murmured, more to himself than to me.

"You know, I spent 8 years searching for you, but you kept changing addresses, which made my job harder. Killing someone like that—it's a nasty business, don't you think?"

I noticed his wife's eyes widen in shock as she clutched his hand. It was pathetic—the perfect family, the typical image of a good American citizen, full of secrets.

"What do you want? Are you going to kill us?" his wife asked, her voice trembling, while the husband was still processing everything, probably thinking that they were safe now.

"That would be easy," I said, taking a gun from one of the guards and aiming it at their heads. I pulled the trigger, but of course, the gun was unloaded; it was just to scare them. "Bang bang," I said, smiling.

"You can do whatever you want to me, but please leave my family out of this," he said with tears in his eyes, and that only made me angrier.

"I'm holding back from shooting you in the head," I said, clenching my fists and taking a deep breath. I never thought I would have so much self-control in a moment like this. "But I won't kill you yet."

I saw both of them frown in confusion, and I smiled inwardly. Causing uncertainty in people was the best thing that existed—having someone's destiny in your hands and letting that person know that nothing depends on them anymore, not even their own life. Humans are so stupid; I don't admire them anymore.

"I want your daughter."

Here is the grammatically corrected version of the text:

"NO, NOT HER!" The woman in front of me was desperate, crying, and kneeling at my feet. "PLEASE, DEAR, DON'T TAKE OUR LITTLE YOKO."

"You can't do this," he said, hugging his wife and pulling her off my feet. "I'll give you whatever you want, take me, but not our girl."

I smiled without meaning to; it was going better than I had imagined.

"Do you really think I want you? Listen, I'll take your daughter by fair means or foul. If I don't take her, do you know what I'm going to do?"

He shook his head, looking at me with anger, while his wife continued to cry in his arms. I might have felt sorry for that scene if I didn't know the whole story.

"I'm going to tie the three of you up, one facing the other. I'm going to rape her in front of you, then torture her and your wife until you die from the pain. After that, I'll torture you until you die too," I said, staring into their eyes with all the rage inside me. "So, which option will it be? Do you want me to take your daughter and marry her, or would you rather watch the people you love most go through all of this?"

At that moment, the door opened, and a short, very pretty girl walked in. She looked a bit confused by the scene in her living room and politely greeted us with a "good afternoon." I knew I was going to have fun with that little thing. My games would be much more interesting with her, I was certain. I gave the unfortunate man the final details and left the room.

Tomorrow, I would pick up the girl and make her mine. Only mine.