Lessons in Fear

The corridor seemed endless. The dark wooden walls, adorned with paintings of horses and shadowy landscapes, made the path even more oppressive. The sound of Stefano’s hurried footsteps echoed firmly, dragging Seline as if she were merely a shadow caught on his arm.

They passed through a heavy door, which closed behind them with a muffled thud. It was a spacious room, with a long table in the center, a lone lamp lit, and windows covered with thick curtains. Here, the silence was even crueler, as if the air itself had been sucked out.

Stefano suddenly released her, causing her to nearly lose her balance. He walked to the table, rested his hands on its wooden surface, and stood in silence for a few seconds, just breathing deeply. That silence was worse than any scream.

_ “You’ve embarrassed me,”_ he said finally, his voice calm but loaded with venom.

_ “Do you know what it means to taint the night with your insecurity? Do you know how much I detest weakness?”

Seline swallowed hard, unable to respond. The words stuck in her throat.

He turned slowly, his gaze piercing her like a sharp blade.

_ “I cannot afford to have someone by my side who stumbles at the first test.” — He walked toward her, the sound of each step reverberating across the wooden floor.

_ “If you haven’t learned yet… I will teach you.”

Before she could step back, Stefano grabbed a chair and dragged it to the center of the room.

_ “Sit.”_

She obeyed, her knees trembling.

He walked to a small bookshelf and pulled out a thick, black-covered book. He slammed it onto the table in front of her.

_ “You will read this aloud, page by page,”_ he ordered, eyes fixed on her.

_ “Not because I care about the content, but because I want to see how far you can maintain your posture without mistakes, without stammering, without showing fear.”

Seline looked at the book as if it were a death sentence. Her heart raced, but she knew she had no choice.

_ “H-how… how should I—”_ she tried to ask.

_ “In a clear voice,”_ he interrupted sharply.

_ “No trembling. Every mistake will be corrected. And do not think about crying.”

She opened the book with trembling hands, staring at the letters that seemed to dance across the page. She breathed deeply and began to read. Her voice came out low, hesitant, but as she went on, she forced herself to adopt a firmer tone.

Stefano never took his eyes off her. He circled the room silently, like a predator stalking its prey, each step echoing as a threat. Occasionally, he interrupted just to correct her:

_ “Louder.”

_ “Look forward.”

_ “Restart that sentence.”

Time dragged, each minute feeling like an eternity. Seline’s throat burned, her eyes welled with tears, yet she remained upright, knowing that any sign of weakness could cost her dearly.

When she finally closed the book, her hands ached from gripping the pages so tightly.

Stefano approached, leaned over her, and whispered into her ear:

_ “This is how you learn, little one. Every mistake has its price. And if you wish to survive here, you must be molded.”

He stepped back, walked to the door, and before leaving, cast one last icy glance:

_ “Go to sleep.”

Then he continued as if he still needed to make it painfully clear, as though he hadn’t yet finished even after ordering her to leave:

_ “You’re lucky it’s me and not the Stefan of the Old Testament.”

_ “My father did not tolerate mistakes, no matter how small.”

_ “Do you understand…?” — He said this with his hand on her neck. Seline’s eyes widened, and with difficulty, she nodded yes.

When he released her, the marks on her neck were visible, and she struggled to breathe and coughed. For a moment, she thought she might die under the force of his hands. Stefano was perfectionist, demanding everything to be flawless and according to plan.

Stefano had been spoiled as a child. His mother tried, out of kindness, to instill goodness in his heart, but nothing seemed to work. She watched Stefano’s character form, like a legacy passed from father to son. Yonara did everything she could, but each day Stefano seemed uncontrollable; she cried daily, feeling incapable of handling him.

The door slammed, and Seline was left alone in the suffocating silence, her heart in pieces and the certainty that this was only the first of many trials she would face. She didn’t know if she would survive; any mistake under Stefano’s gaze was extremely dangerous. Whatever threatened to deviate from his plans was the end.

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