CHAPTER 3

Aki’s eyes fluttered open, her mind heavy and foggy as she struggled to make sense of her surroundings. The room was dim, lit only by a small window high on the wall, its panes crisscrossed with iron grills. She blinked a few times, trying to remember how she got here, but her thoughts slipped away like water through her fingers.

She sat up slowly, her gaze drifting across the room, and despite the eerie silence that pressed in on her, she found herself mesmerized by the sheer elegance of the space. The walls were draped in rich, velvety fabrics—deep reds and purples that shimmered faintly in the soft light. Golden threads were intricately woven into the patterns, forming elegant shapes that wound their way up toward the ceiling, which was vaulted and adorned with delicate carvings.

Aki’s breath caught in her throat. The design was unlike anything she had ever seen before, a perfect blend of opulence and artistry. Even the furniture, though sparse, was made from the finest materials—dark, polished wood with luxurious upholstery. She ran her fingers absentmindedly along the edge of the bed she was sitting on, marveling at the silkiness of the sheets beneath her.

For a moment, she felt herself lost in the beauty of it all. The soft glow from the window, the way the shadows played on the fabrics, the quiet hum of stillness—it was almost like a dream. Her awe filled her senses, overwhelming her with the stunning features around her, so much so that she forgot—just for a moment—why she was here.

Then reality crashed down on her like cold water.

Her heart skipped a beat as she realized she wasn’t in this room by choice. She wasn’t admiring an elegant guest suite in some luxurious palace. She was trapped. The door across from her was locked. The window was too small, too high, and barred. She was a prisoner here.

Panic surged through her veins, erasing any trace of wonder she had felt just moments before. Aki leaped from the bed, rushing toward the door. Her hands fumbled for the handle, pulling, twisting, but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked tight. She pressed her ear against the wooden door, hoping to hear voices, footsteps—anything. But all that greeted her was an oppressive silence.

She felt a wave of fear rise in her chest. With a desperate burst of energy, she threw her body against the door, banging her fists against it as hard as she could.

“Help!” she screamed, her voice hoarse with terror. “Is anyone there? Let me out!”

The sound of her own voice echoed off the walls, but no one answered. Aki slammed her shoulder against the door again, wincing at the pain that shot through her. Still, she continued to pound on the door, shouting louder with each strike.

“Let me out! Please!”

Her heart raced, the once-beautiful room now a suffocating cage.

Aki’s throat was raw from shouting, her fists aching from pounding on the heavy door, but she couldn’t stop. Panic clawed at her chest, the oppressive silence of the room amplifying the sound of her desperate pleas. Her cries for help echoed off the walls, and her body trembled with fear. The room’s once-stunning beauty had morphed into something suffocating, the rich fabrics and opulent designs now feeling like the decor of a luxurious prison.

Suddenly, a shadow flickered in the gap beneath the door. Aki froze, her breath catching in her throat. Someone was there. Relief surged through her, and she staggered backward from the door, her heart racing.

The door creaked open slowly, revealing a tall figure standing in the dim light. As the figure stepped into the room, Aki's eyes widened in disbelief.

It was Dylan Forteros.

Aki’s heart skipped a beat. Dylan was the CEO of F Newspapers and Magazines, a man whose face was known throughout the city. He was powerful, influential, and always impeccably dressed, just like now. He wore a perfectly tailored suit, the dark fabric contrasting sharply with his fair skin and the sharp angles of his face. His presence filled the room with a commanding energy, yet there was something chilling about the way he stood there, silently regarding her with those piercing, cold eyes.

Aki’s relief instantly evaporated, replaced by a wave of confusion and unease. She stared at Dylan, her voice faltering as she tried to make sense of his sudden appearance.

“Dylan? What… what are you doing here?” she stammered, her voice shaky. “Please, help me. I don’t know where I am, I don’t know how I got here…”

But Dylan didn’t respond. He stepped into the room fully, his polished shoes making no sound as they crossed the elegant rug beneath them. With a slow, deliberate motion, he reached behind him and closed the door, locking it with a sharp click.

Aki’s blood ran cold. Why had he locked the door?

She instinctively backed away, her heart thudding in her chest. Something was very wrong. The atmosphere in the room shifted, becoming thick and tense, and Dylan’s gaze followed her every move. His eyes, normally full of charisma in the public eye, were now dark and unreadable, fixed on her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

“What’s this all about?” Aki asked, her voice small, barely a whisper. She tried to mask the growing terror rising inside her, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her.

Dylan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took another step toward her, his hands casually in his pockets. His gaze remained locked on hers, cold and predatory, as if he was studying her, waiting for something.

Aki felt her legs weaken, her back pressing against the wall as she instinctively recoiled from his looming presence.

“Aki…” Dylan’s voice finally broke the silence, low and measured. “Do you remember anything?”

His question hung in the air, chilling her to the bone. Remember anything? What was he talking about?

Aki blinked, her mind scrambling to piece together fragments of memory. But nothing made sense. The last thing she could recall was leaving her apartment that morning—everything after that was a blur. Her head pounded with the effort of trying to remember, but all that came to her were scattered images, flashes of darkness and pain.

“I… I don’t remember,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I don’t know what happened.”

Dylan’s lips twitched, forming the ghost of a smile, but it never reached his eyes. The intensity of his stare deepened, cutting into her like a knife.

“Is that so?” he murmured, stepping closer again.

Aki’s breath hitched as she pressed herself harder against the wall, the cold surface digging into her back. Her heart pounded in her ears, every instinct in her body screaming at her to run, but there was nowhere to go. She was trapped.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What happened? Why am I here?”

Dylan didn’t answer. He simply continued to watch her with that unnerving calm, his head tilting slightly as if he was trying to read something hidden deep within her.

Aki’s pulse raced. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something crucial, something she should know but couldn’t grasp. Her gaze darted around the room, desperate for some clue, some explanation, but there was nothing—just the same elegant prison, its beauty mocking her helplessness.

Her hands shook as she raised them to her face, hoping to steady herself. That’s when she noticed it—her skin.

Bruises. Cuts. Dark patches of skin marred with angry red welts. Her arms were covered in them, and when she looked down, she realized her legs were in too. Her clothes were torn in places, the fabric stained with dried blood she hadn’t noticed before.

She gasped, her stomach twisting in horror. How—?

“What… what happened to me?” she whispered, her eyes wide with shock as she looked up at Dylan.

But Dylan only gave her that same cold stare, his expression unreadable, his silence deafening.

Aki’s mind spun, trying to comprehend the bruises, the blood, the pain. She hadn’t even felt it until now, hadn’t realized the extent of her injuries. What had happened to her? Why couldn’t she remember?

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” she stammered, her voice shaking as she hugged her arms around herself, trying to hide the bruises. “Why are you doing this? Please, just tell me what’s going on…”

Dylan’s gaze never wavered. “Think, Aki,” he said softly, his voice calm but chilling. “Try to remember. You must know why you’re here.”

Aki’s throat tightened. She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “I don’t! I swear, I don’t remember anything!”

Dylan sighed, his expression softening ever so slightly, though his eyes remained cold. “That’s unfortunate,” he said, his tone almost regretful. “But it’s too late for that now.”

He turned away from her, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. Aki watched him in disbelief, her mind spinning with fear and confusion.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Too late for what?”

Dylan didn’t answer. He walked toward the door, unlocking it with the same calm, methodical precision, before glancing over his shoulder at her one last time.

“Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “Soon, you’ll remember everything.”

With that, he stepped out of the room, leaving Aki alone in the darkened space, her body trembling and her mind screaming for answers.