Caught

Chapter Four

"Tomorrow is the day I will be free from this place. It will be ten years that I have served him, and yet sometimes it feels I shouldn't go because of you. I just do not want to see you cry." Alex's voice was soft, full of compassion I hadn't expected from someone I barely knew. In the quiet sincerity, a voice that sounded as though it could break through the thick wall I had built. But his words cut through me in ways I wasn't prepared for.

His eyes softened, and I noticed the slight tension in his jaw. I could feel the weight of the moment, and I wasn't sure how to respond. "I'm not asking you to do anything," Alex continued, almost as though reading my thoughts. "I just want you to get a chance to leave this place, a chance to breathe again without him controlling every step of the way. Tomorrow, when I am free, I will look for the money. I'll find it and you can use it to pay him off. You'll be free. You won't owe him anything. You won't have to stay here anymore."

His words hit me like a whirlwind, and for a second, I didn't know how to process it all-he wanted to help me, a man I had barely known, one whose life was still bound by Damian's rules, a lifeline being extended to me, which all was so overwhelming.

"I don't know," I whispered, my voice shaking. "I. I have been here so long. It is all I have known. How can I just leave it all behind? What if he comes after me? What if it's too dangerous?"

Alex reached out and his hand hovered near mine before laying it gently on the table between us. His touch was warm, reassuring. "I am not asking you to make any decisions now," he said in soft tones. "I am just trying to make you aware that you are not obligated to stay here. There is a life beyond the horizon for you, Lena. And when I get out, I will make sure you are able to go. You deserve to be free. No more is he to control your life again."

His words filled the space between us, and for a moment, I dared to imagine it: a life beyond this mansion, a life without the grip of Damian upon me. Could I even trust in that? Could I trust Alex? I had no idea, but I couldn't dispel the flicker of hope in my chest.

"I don't deserve this," I whispered, and my eyes finally dropped, staring at my hands in my lap. "I don't deserve freedom."

"You do," Alex said, firm but soft. "Anyone does. It's everyone's right to live a life they want. Most of all-your right. And he has no right to take that away from you.

And before I could continue, the door flew open without any warning, the sharp sound causing my heart to jump. I froze.

Damian was framed by the doorway, his presence overwhelming as ever. He took in the scene before him; his eyes narrowed, and he noticed the tension around the room. My pulse quickened, my body rigid as I instinctively shrank back.

Alex didn't move at first. His gaze flicked to Damian and then back to me. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate-so small, so very small, a checking of the hard line set in his gut-but he got up, seeming to decide not to press his luck today with Damian.

 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come," Alex mumbled, his tone more penitent than I would have thought possible from one who had just, literally, been so sure.

Damian's eyes narrowed as he watched Alex walk toward the door. "What's going on here?" he asked smoothly, though underlying the tone was a thread of danger. "Lena, are you all right?"

Alex paused at the door, not daring to turn around, offering one last glance in my direction. There was a flicker of something in his eyes-regret, maybe?-but then it was gone. Without saying another word, he was gone, disappearing behind the door with an almost unnatural quietness.

I had sat paralyzed in my chair, not knowing what emotions to feel anymore. Damian slowly entered the room, his eyes never leaving mine as he softly closed the door.

"Are you okay?" Damian's voice was softer than I'd ever heard, and the unexpected concern there gave me chills. He took another step into the room and for the first time didn't seem to stare down at me, like. looking after me, and that unnerved me for reasons I couldn't explain.

I swallowed, trying to compose myself. I didn't know if I should feel relieved or terrified by the sudden shift in his attitude. He stared at me with those sharp, calculating eyes, and yet something in the way he stood made me feel exposed—vulnerable.

"I'm fine," I managed, my voice barely a whisper. I could not bring myself to meet his gaze fully anymore, not after everything that had been said.

Damian's gaze lingered on me a moment before flickering to the door. His jaw clenched. "What did he say to you?" His voice was carefully neutral, each word tinged with an undercurrent of something darker. The concern was there, yes, but it was laced with something else-a possessive, controlling edge that made my heart slam.

"I.... nothing. No, he was only telling me a..

. yes, a story." It even sounded flimsy to me.

Damian looked unconvinced. "I see." His voice was softer, yet somehow more unnerving, this time. He closed the space between us, his presence almost suffocating. "Lena, you're safe here. You have no reason to listen to him. No reason to trust someone like him."

I could feel his eyes on me, and he pierced through the walls I'd built around myself. For a moment, it seemed like I was seeing him in a new light. It wasn't just anger or control anymore-it was genuine care. Real concern.

He laid a hand on my shoulder and I twitched, but he didn't seem to notice. "And you sit here, believing any story from such a guy? under my control?" he whispered, but with that hard edge to his words it caught my breath. "You are not here to listen to anyone story but to serve me."

The way he said it sent a cold shiver down my spine. I wasn't sure whether it was because of some genuine protectiveness or something way darker, but one thing was certain: Damian's concern was anything but comforting. It was possessive, and in that instant, I wasn't really sure if I was relieved or terrified.

"I won't.... won't listen to him" I whispered, nearly lost in the heavy silence between us.

Damian's eyes flicked to mine, a flash of something unreadable passing across his face. A part of me wondered if he knew the truth-that I was already thinking about leaving. But I couldn't say it. Not yet.

Damian turned suddenly and strode toward the window, his back to me now. I couldn't shake the feeling things were going to change, ready or not.