LGHTNOVELBOOK Chapter 536: I Want Your Daughter And Wife
Bella couldn't believe what she was seeing.
The man she once called her father, the man who had always boasted about his strength, his power, and his dominance over those weaker than him, was now crawling like an insect.
She felt disgusted.
She had already lost respect for him long ago, but this…this stripped away even the most basic remnants of human dignity.
She couldn't even bring herself to look at him.
She could only stare down with hollow eyes, watching her father writhe and degrade himself, feeling an overwhelming sense of disgust that made her stomach churn.
Kafka, on the other hand, merely sighed, as if he had seen this a thousand times before. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" He said casually. "A man should always keep his promises, after all."
Bella's father didn't answer. He was too busy swallowing the last scraps of his pride.
Then Kafka leaned forward slightly, his gaze sharpening. "That being said." He continued, tilting his head in thought. "I have been considering something else."
Bella's father stiffened, barely raising his head.
Kafka smiled. "I want your daughter, Bella." He said simply.
Bella froze. Her father's breath came out in short, uneven gasps.
"I think I'd like to make her mine." Kafka went on, his voice slow and lazy, as if he were discussing the weather. "But after everything you said earlier about how I wouldn't be good enough, I feel like I should hesitate a little, don't you think?"
Bella's father clenched his fists against the floor, his nails digging into his own skin.
He knew what Kafka was doing...He knew this was another test.
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And yet, he had no choice but to participate.
His mouth opened, his lips trembling, but before he could force the words out, Kafka did something that made his blood run cold.
He lifted his foot. And slowly, deliberately, he pressed it down on the back of his head.
Bella's father shuddered as Kafka let the full weight of his foot rest against his skull, pressing him further against the floor.
His entire body tensed, his pride screaming, his muscles locking up in absolute humiliation.
Bella gasped, her face twisting violently as she took a half step back.
She couldn't believe what she was seeing.
The sight of her father, once so proud, so cruel, so untouchable, now being stepped on like a discarded piece of trash—
It was too much.
She felt her stomach turn, her fingers curling into her palms as a deep, festering disgust welled up inside her.
"Go on." Kafka said, his voice dripping with amusement. "Continue."
Her father's mouth opened, but no sound came out.
Seeing this, Kafka shifted his foot slightly, his heel pressing just a little harder.
Bella's father sucked in a sharp breath.
And then—
He begged.
"Please." He whispered at first, his voice shaking. "Please, take care of my daughter. I—I would be honoured if you accepted her."
"Mm...Try again." Kafka said as he moved his feet around, trying to find his bald spot.
His father squeezed his eyes shut. His body trembled violently under the weight of the foot pressing him down. His fingers clawed at the carpet, his lips quivering, his entire being burning with shame and regret.
But he had no other choice.
He had already lost...So he did what he had to do.
"Please." He gasped, his voice cracking as his breath hitched. "I beg you, please take care of my daughter. Please, take her as yours."
Bella closed her eyes.
She had nothing left to say to this man.
Because to her, he wasn't a man anymore.
He was just an insect grovelling at the feet of something far, far greater.
The room was thick with tension, the silence stretching unbearably as Bella's father lay beneath Kafka's foot, his forehead pressed into the floor, his entire being soaked in humiliation.
He had given up. He had surrendered his daughter without a fight, sacrificing his pride, his dignity, everything, just to cling onto what little hope he had left of salvaging his own life.
For a moment, he thought it was over.
He thought he had suffered enough.
And then—
Kafka spoke again.
"You know." He said, his voice carrying that same casual tone as if he were merely tossing out an idle thought. "Bella isn't the only one I've taken an interest in."
Bella's father stiffened beneath him, already having a horrible premonition of the words that were going to be spoken next.
"I've also got my eye on your wife."
Everything in Bella's father's body locked up at once when he heard his words. His heart beat violently, his muscles going rigid as something white—hot and blindingly furious—ignited in his chest.
Kafka continued as if he hadn't just dropped a bomb on the room. "Camila's quite the woman, isn't she?" He said, tapping his fingers idly against the armrest. "Beautiful, graceful…devoted. A bit wasted on you, don't you think?"
Bella's father felt something snap inside him.
A deep, primal rage erupted from the pit of his stomach, an anger so raw and overwhelming that it nearly made him lunge up and tear Kafka's throat out with his bare hands.
This wasn't about love.
It wasn't about devotion.
It wasn't even about Camila herself.
It was about him.
It was about his pride, his ownership, the ultimate humiliation of having another man look him in the eye and say, I'll take what's yours.
His fingers curled into fists against the carpet, his nails digging in so hard they nearly drew blood. His teeth ground together, his entire being screaming for him to act, to fight back, to kill this smug little bastard where he sat.
But then, he felt it...The weight on his head.
Kafka's foot was still pressing him down, a constant, silent reminder of the power dynamic in the room.
A chilling realisation slithered down his spine.
If he acted now—
If he dared to fight back—
He wouldn't just lose his job.
He wouldn't just lose his money, his career, his reputation...He would lose everything.
His body trembled, the anger still boiling inside him, but it was met with something far stronger.
Fear.
The words tasted like poison in his mouth, but he forced them out anyway.
"If…If that's what you want." He whispered, his voice barely audible, his throat so tight he could barely breathe. "Then…I'll allow it."
"Too half-hearted." Kafka remarked smoothly. "I need something clearer than that."
Bella's father clenched his fists even tighter, his body shaking violently.
He wanted to vomit...He wanted to die.
But he had no other choice.
He squeezed his eyes shut, his breath coming out in ragged gasps before he finally forced the words out, loud and clear.
"You can have them!" He shouted, the last of his pride shattering into dust. "You can take them both! My wife and my daughter—both of them are yours! Do whatever you want with them!"
A deep silence followed.
Bella didn't react.
She didn't flinch.
She didn't even blink.
She just stood there, her gaze devoid of any emotion, watching him with the same detached, hollow look one might give to a cockroach crawling on the floor.
Kafka sighed, lifting his foot off his head at last and flicking his feet as if he were scared that he might have gotten lice from keeping his feet on his head before giving a satisfied nod.
"Now, that's more like it." He said, smirking.
Thud!~
Bella's father collapsed fully onto the floor, his body limp, drained, and broken.
He had nothing left...Not even his dignity.
And hearing the loud commotion and the sound of her husband shouting, Camila walked in hurriedly, her expression a mix of concern and suspicion as she took in the scene before her.
Her husband was sprawled on the floor, his breathing ragged, his entire posture that of a man who had been utterly crushed.
Bella stood off to the side, looking down at him like he was nothing, while Kafka sat comfortably on the couch, the remnants of an amused smirk still lingering on his lips.
Camila frowned, her eyes narrowing as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.
"Okay, what the hell is going on here?" She asked, her voice firm. Then, after a moment, her gaze flicked toward the phone lying on the table, then back to her husband, and her suspicion deepened. "And don't tell me you're looking for the remote again...I'm not buying that twice."
Bella let out a soft scoff before calmly stepping over her father, as if he were nothing more than an inconvenient obstacle in her path.
Camila's brows furrowed slightly at the action, but before she could say anything, Bella turned toward her, her expression eerily composed despite the storm that had been raging just moments before.
"Nothing happened, Mom." Bella said casually, her voice carrying a gentleness that was so obviously forced it made Camila narrow her eyes even further. "I'm just really hungry right now. Can we eat?"
Camila blinked, still clearly suspicious, but before she could press the issue, Bella gently took her by the shoulders and began pushing her toward the kitchen. "Come on, Mom, I don't want the food to get cold."
"Wait, but—"
Camila tried to glance back at the room, still utterly confused as to why her husband was lying on the floor like a corpse, but Bella was persistent, steering her forward with a determined grip.
Kafka chuckled softly as he watched them go before getting up from the couch, giving a little wiggle to let his blood flow as if he had just finished an easy workout.
"Well, a deal's a deal." He said, stepping over Bella's father just as easily as Bella had. "Now that you've given both of your women to me, I suppose I should hold up my end and change everything back."
Bella's father stiffened when he heard his words, biting his teeth like a dog as his entire body trembled with barely contained rage.
And just before stepping into the kitchen, Kafka paused, then glanced back, a teasing lilt in his voice. "Oh, and hurry up, old man." He called out, grinning. "It'd be a waste not to eat after all that grovelling, wouldn't it?"
Bella's father remained motionless, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged bursts, his entire frame coiled tight with fury.
He wanted nothing more than to tear Kafka apart and drink his blood, even though he doubted a monster like him had warm blood running through his body.
But he knew...
He knew that the moment he tried, his entire existence would be wiped out without a second thought.
So he stayed where he was, his entire body shaking with the weight of his own humiliation, as the sound of laughter and clinking dishes echoed from the kitchen...