Chapter 4
Rose
That morning, I was calibrating equipment, preparing for the day's work.
The scene from last night—bandaging Raven's wound—kept replaying in my mind. That cold business emperor had actually trembled from pain.
He's not the monster I thought he was.
The thought made me restless. I couldn't develop sympathy for the man who kidnapped me!
"Rose."
I turned to see Raven standing in the doorway. His face was pale, like he hadn't slept all night.
"What do you want tattooed today?" I deliberately used a cold tone.
He didn't answer. Instead, he walked toward the tattoo chair and did something that shocked me—
He started taking off his shirt.
"What the hell are you doing?" I practically shouted.
When he turned around, my breath caught.
His back was covered in a web of scars—some old, some that looked like they were from childhood. The scars were twisted and ugly, like someone had deliberately carved a map of hell into his skin.
Yesterday I'd only felt them through touch, but seeing them now was truly horrifying.
"I want..." his voice was shaking, "I want you to help me cover these."
I was stunned. This man who controlled everything was showing me his most vulnerable part?
"Are you fucking insane?" I heard my own voice trembling. "You trust me? I just stabbed you yesterday."
He turned his head to look at me, his eyes holding a desperation I'd never seen before: "I'd endure any pain if it could make them disappear."
In that moment, I felt an unprecedented shock.
He trusts me. Completely, utterly trusts me.
This realization made my heart race.
"Why?" I asked. "Why trust me?"
"Because of your eyes," he said. "When you were bandaging my wound yesterday, I saw the kindness in them."
I took a deep breath and walked to the design table: "What design do you want?"
"You decide."
"I decide?" I couldn't believe it. "You won't even look at it first?"
"I trust your art," he said calmly. "Give me whatever you think is right."
I stared at his scarred back, and suddenly an image flashed in my mind—an angel spreading its wings.
An angel... everyone needs redemption.
"Even demons?" He seemed to read my thoughts.
I picked up my brush and began sketching on paper: "Especially demons. The deeper the wounds, the more they need light."
For the next few hours, I poured my heart into the design. This wasn't just a tattoo—this was art's redemption of pain, light covering darkness.
Every line, every stroke, I put my soul into it.
I'm creating a miracle... healing pain with art.
When I showed him the design, tears glinted in his eyes.
"This is... an angel?"
"The moment a fallen angel regains its wings," I said softly. "Pain doesn't disappear, but it can be covered by beauty."
He nodded and lay down on the tattoo chair.
The tattooing began.
It went smoothly at first, but when the needle touched the deepest scars, Raven started trembling violently.
"Does it hurt? Want to take a break?"
"No." He gritted his teeth, his voice still controlled. "Keep going."
But I could feel him fighting something—not just physical pain. His muscles were taut as steel wire, his breathing becoming rapid and irregular.
When the needle passed over a particularly deep scar, his hand suddenly clenched into a fist, knuckles white from the pressure.
"Stop." His voice was so low it seemed to come from hell itself. "Give me a minute."
I immediately stopped, watching him sit up stiffly. His face was paper-white, fine beads of sweat dotting his forehead, but his expression remained as cold as an iceberg.
"Raven..." I reached out to comfort him.
"You know how I got these scars?" His voice was completely flat, like he was telling someone else's story. "My father. Every time I did something wrong, he'd use his belt, cigarettes, whatever he could find to teach me a lesson."
My heart sank. He spoke so calmly, which somehow made it even more heartbreaking.
So... he was a victim too.
"He said I was never good enough... never deserving of love..." Raven's eyes were terrifyingly empty, like he'd returned to that dark childhood. "So I learned to control everything. Control is power, power is safety."
His voice remained calm, but I could hear the suppressed trembling underneath. This vulnerability under extreme control was more devastating than tears.
This man I thought was heartless actually had a wounded child buried deep inside.
"The person who hurt you was wrong," I said gently. "You deserve to be loved."
He turned to look at me, something flickering in his eyes before the coldness returned: "Even though I kidnapped you? Even though I used the same controlling methods on you?"
"Even so." My voice was gentle. "Pain isn't an excuse, but it's not the whole reason for evil either."
He looked at me quietly for a long time, then slowly took my hand. His hand was cold but gripped tightly, like grabbing onto a lifeline.
"Rose... I've never..." He paused for a long time, his voice so low it was barely audible. "Never been understood like this before."
In that moment, I felt some kind of miraculous connection. We were both wounded people, just expressing it differently.
"Lie down," I said. "Let's finish this redemption."
He lay back down, and this time he didn't tremble. It was as if that confession had released something, allowing him to bear the pain that followed.
When night fell, the tattoo was finally complete.
Looking at himself in the mirror, Raven's eyes held a light I'd never seen before. Those ugly scars were covered by beautiful angel wings, as if he'd truly been reborn.
"This is the power of art," I said proudly. "It can transform pain into beauty."
"Teach me." He turned to look at me, his voice still controlled but his eyes now warm. "Teach me to understand art."
"Why?"
"Because I want to learn to feel with my heart, not just control with my mind." His gaze was sincere. "Art is how you speak to the world... it's your soul."
My heart skipped a beat. He actually remembered what I'd said.
"Then you have to let go of control and learn to trust," I said.
"I'm willing." He didn't hesitate, though his tone remained calm and restrained. "For you."
Those words made my face burn instantly.
For me?
Just then, the door was roughly shoved open.
It was Raven's assistant: "Mr. Crimson, someone's broken in demanding to see Miss Thorn."