In the Grip of Asmodeo (The Moretti Obsession #1)

Plan

He thinks he's got me—bound and broken, swallowed by fear. The cold metal biting into my skin, the heavy chains that dig into my wrists, the darkness pressing in on every side. His voice echoes through the silence—calm, cruel, like venom slowly dripping into my veins.

But he doesn't know.
Hindi niya alam na ako ang may hawak ng kontrol dito.
I'm the one with the grip.
Not him.

He wants to break me, to twist me into his perfect image of Stella. He wants me to wear her skin like a mask, to move like her, talk like her. He wants me to be the version of her that never left.

Sige, pag bibigyan kita, Asmodeo.

I'll give him what he wants—on the surface.

I'll wear the dress he picked out, stiff and cold like a costume.
I'll practice her voice, her smile, even her way of walking.

But deep down, I'm holding the grip.
I'm the one who's going to hold him tight—grip so hard, he won't even realize when the tables turn.

Because I'm not Stella.

I'm Charlotte.

And I'm not his puppet.
I'm playing his game for now, but I'm the one with the real power.
At the end of this—if I survive—he'll be the one being gripped.

I'm the one who's going to grip him so tight.

Two days have passed since Asmodeo started his lessons—his twisted way of shaping me into Stella. I was given Stella's own room, the place she once called home. It's a silent reminder, every corner whispering memories that aren't mine.
The moonlight sneaks through the heavy curtains, casting shadows on the polished floor. It's night, and the house feels colder than before. But I don't feel afraid. Not really.

He said I need to learn how to move like her, talk like her, even breathe like her.
I sat through the lessons, silent and watchful. Every order, every correction, is a challenge I plan to win. Because I'm not just pretending—I'm surviving.

Sana pala nag actress nalang ako nung bata pa ako kung ganto rin pala kahahantungan ko.

The door creaks open.

Asmodeo steps inside, his presence swallowing the room like a shadow.
His eyes scan me—measured, calculating.

"Ready for tonight's lesson?" His voice is smooth, a dangerous edge beneath the calm.

I meet his gaze, steady and unflinching.
"Always," I say, hiding the fire beneath.

He smirks, unaware that I'm the one with the grip.
"Good. You've come a long way, Charlie—or should I say, Stella?" His words drip with false warmth, like a snake coiling tighter.

I let a faint smile play on my lips. "If I'm Stella for you, then call me that."
He steps closer, the cold air between us thickening.

"Remember, it's not just the look. It's the voice, the walk, the attitude. You're becoming her—whether you like it or not."

I nod slowly, playing the part he wants. But inside, I'm ready to snap the chains.
"I'm listening," I say softly, pero minumura ko na siya sa utak ko.

Asmodeo's eyes gleam, thinking he's got me wrapped around his finger.
Little does he know—I'm the one who's going to grip him tight. So tight, he won't know what hit him.
For now, I play along.

The garden was quiet, bathed in soft moonlight. Asmodeo's voice broke the silence, gentle but laced with something sharp. "You know, Stella's favorite flower here was always the rose. She loved the way they looked—beautiful, strong."