“But you don’t love him either,” Max countered, his gaze unwavering.

Amara looked at him, puzzled. “Sir, you’ve had too much to drink. You should rest,” she said, turning to walk away. But Max wouldn’t let her go; he grasped her hand firmly.

“I’m not drunk, Amara,” he insisted, his tone serious.

“Let me go, sir,” she replied, anger bubbling beneath her calm exterior.

“Why do you accept something like this? Don’t do this,” he urged, frustration mingling with desperation.

Amara still didn’t understand what he wanted from her. “What do you want me to do?” she asked, seeking clarity.

“Marry me,” Max said, his words hanging in the air like a dare.

She stepped back, her eyes wide with shock. It felt like a dream come true, yet everything about it felt wrong. “You don’t love me,” she repeated.

“You don’t love him,” he shot back.

“you love her” she shot back.

" No I don't love her" he said.

“But you love me, Amara,” he insisted, stepping closer.

“So? It would be painful for me to marry you,” she said, their eyes locked in an intense gaze.

“Marry me,” Max urged again.

“Enough with this! I need to go,” she said, trying to pull away.

But Max held her tight. “Marry me,” he repeated, his voice low and urgent.

“You only want to use me. Why would I want to marry you?” Amara snapped, her anger finally breaking through.

Max knew this was a selfish move, but he couldn’t bear the thought of her with anyone else. “I will use you, Amara, and you will use me,” he said.

“What does that even mean?” Amara asked with confusion.

Max’s gaze dropped to her lips, and Amara felt a rush of awareness. “Do not think about doing this,” she warned, but Max didn’t seem to care. He leaned in, closing the distance between them, and pressed his lips against hers. 

It wasn’t a passionate kiss; it was gentle and sweet, a tender exploration that sent shivers down her spine. As he pulled back slightly, he leaned closer to her ear and whispered, “Use me.”

Amara looked at him, her heart racing. “Use me,” he repeated, a playful smile spreading across his face. 

Amara felt her mind go blank, a white haze clouding her thoughts as she stared at him, caught in the moment. She knew she would accept, but the words wouldn’t come.

Max released her and knelt before her, his eyes searching hers. “Will you marry me?” he asked, sincerity etched across his face.

Amara struggled to understand his motives; perhaps he wanted to escape from his lover or seek revenge, just as she longed to break free from her family’s abuse. She could use him, too, but would it be worth the pain that might follow?

“Yes,” she said, the word slipping from her lips before she could fully comprehend it. It felt surreal, as if she were stepping into a dream or nightmare.

Max extended his hand to Amara. As soon as she took it, everything went white.

“What?” she gasped, watching as the world around her vanished. “Max?” she yelled, her voice echoing in the emptiness.

But she found herself in a void. "Where am I?" she whispered, dread creeping in.

Then it dawned on her—she was seeing the past, those moments when he had promised her everything. This was a magic spell Max had cast to ensnare her mind. 

"I can’t believe I was under his spell," she murmured, realizing the gravity of her situation. The spell conjured sweet memories, but were they truly sweet for her?

"I will wake up, won’t I? I can’t believe this. I can’t believe he found me. I’ve run for years—why now? Is he that angry? But why? I left him for his lover. They ruined me, took everything from me. I lost two lives because of them. They should be happy together, right? Why are you doing this to me?" 

Her tears flowed freely as she spoke, her heart heavy with sorrow and confusion. *Why are you here?* she thought, losing her grip on reality, consumed by the whirlwind of her emotions.