"Ellaya, are you ready?" Iden grabbed her arms and looked at her, concerned.Ellaya nodded her head and pressed her lips firmly. Two women assisting her in handling her gown, and the other two helping her with her microphone.Her naturally purple hair, worn loose, complemented her purple long gown perfectly, bringing out the brilliant purple in her eyes. Iden told her that she looked like the most beautiful woman in the world and forbade her from using any artificial lenses or makeup to cover up her natural skin tone and hair colors. Her pink skin was glowing with a hint of shiny makeup. And there she stood looking like a goddess."Ellaya" Iden said, gazing into her purple eyes, "You do not have to be nervous okay.""All I am worried about is that they might think I am endorsing a cartoon character at this charity event, or that they might throw tomatoes and rotten eggs at me for looking like a purple princess". Ellaya repeated her statement nth time while biting her inner cheek.Iden
She turned to look around; she could only hear screams and loud footsteps in the empty hallway. She slowly walked while holding her gown and trying to make sense of what was going on. The farther she walked, the more distinct the creams and heavy footsteps were. She looked around for people but was unable to locate even one. She picked up her pace quickly but was startled by a burning smell that she could not identify. She was terrified and wanted to enter the party hall, but a thick cloud of smoke obscured her vision, making it feel burning. She wondered where the cloud of smoke was coming from as she turned to look at her left and saw a huge flame shoot out of one of the guest rooms. She felt the flames roar angrily towards her face and fell down with a scream, avoiding a near-death experience. She realized the hotel was on fire, she broke out into a cold sweat "The hotel is on fire, shit, shit, oh god, please save us". She muttered. She knew she had to flee, but her body w
His phone had rung multiple times previously, but he had decided to ignore it and watch her perform. After she finished, he left and went outside to the garden, where he lit a cigarette and dialed the number. Kaito had been explaining to him how the Russian mafia had invaded their territory; during the attack, over ten soldiers were killed, but they were able to capture three of their men alive, who were now in his custody. "How much time will it take, man?" Frustrated, Kaito asked"Do not kill them in your fret already, Kai, keep them alive until I return".Moments passed in silence before Kaito answered, "Yes."He was aware of Kaito's prolonged silence, which was likely an attempt to maintain composure. He loved his people the most, and his weakness was that he could not keep his cool; he lost it easily. Kaito was a short-tempered and ignorant individual. He needed to finish his business here and return as soon as possible if he did not want Kaito to kill them and rush to the Rus
"Ellaya Wake up, you lazy head. How long are you going to sleep?" A gentle voice kept repeating in her head. She tried hard to open her eyes, but everything was blurry. She closed them, forcing hard, and then opened them again, only to find everything white.'Is this place heaven? No, I cannot be in heaven because I have not done anything good to deserve it. It might be hell, but how would I find out if I asked someone?' She tilted her head and saw nothing but white walls and darkness. She blinked several times to clear her vision, and now she could see a table and a sofa—everything earthly. With confused gaze.Her face was filled with pain. A voice spoke again in her head "I died without telling him that I started to fall in love with him. Did he also die in a fire? "The fire" was so painful. "Iden.." with a scream, she abruptly sat up on the bed. "Iden..." She looked around, her eyes watering, and began to cry. She felt as though someone was holding her heart in tight grip, she bit
There was an eerie silence in the ward, not a single sound could be heard, and Ellaya was restless because she was alone. It had been hours since Iden left to finish his important work. She was incredibly bored as she fiddled with her fingers. She was starving and could not leave the hospital room. When she closed her eyes, all she saw was his stunning face as it rose from the fire, embracing her and addressing her by name. She snapped open her eyes as the door opened and she heard the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. When a pair of black shiny shoes appeared in front of her, her gaze shifted from the shoes to the well-built body to the breathtaking handsome face. Iden hurled a paper bag onto the table next to her and collapsed onto the couch, drained "Hmm! what is this?" Ellaya closed her eyes and hummed as she lifted the paper bag to her nose and inhaled the mouthwatering aroma of the food. She repeatedly inhaled the delicious aroma of the meal, then opened her eye
Ellaya was fiddling with her phone while seated. She knew no one knew what happened, so she dialed a number, and Eva's extremely angry voice answered. "Where are you lost Ella? I have been trying to reach you for the past three days, but your phone is constantly off. You have no idea how concerned I am for you. If you were going to jump ship to New York and spend eternity there, at least you could have given me a massage." Ellaya was forced to disclose everything that transpired during the charity event after hearing her irate voice. "Oh my goodness! Ella, how did that happen? Are you okay?" On the other end of the phone, Eva cried out in concern. "Do not worry, I am fine. Tell me how everything's going." "Listen, do not worry about anything right now; instead, focus on your health." Eva has a worried tone. "Eva, what is wrong?" Eva sounded tired, and Ellaya sensed that her voice was not as enthusiastic as before. "Ahem..."Eva remained silent for a brief while. Ellaya se
Iden strode into the gym, took off his t-shirt and watch, and threw them carelessly onto the bench. He then stepped forward, bent over, and pulled the ring over his head to enter the cage. A voice rang in his head as he made contact with the punching bag. " Come on, Iden, you can never defeat me." " Come on, punch me, yes punch me. You are still mama's little boy, Iden." " Just one moment of distraction and you will lose it, dude." "Yes, come on, strike it hard." With a rush of adrenaline coursing through him, he punched the puncing bag, sending it flying into the air. "Man, I am in love, finally, Leo the beast is in love," "KAPO" (punched the bag again.) "Yes, Idi boy. I am sure she also loves me." "KAPO" (he struck it once more) "I would die than be without her. She called me a stinking dog,slapped me, and insulted me, but I still love her too much to let her go. She does not love me, and you know why? Because I am poor and poor people do not have the right to fal
She steered her neck and asked again, looking him in the eyes, "Why do you need to control yourself?" His intense gaze danced across her face. "You are not the kind of woman I spend time with, Laaya." The sentence pierced through her heart, and her face visibly fell, she lowered her eyes, 'what exactly does he mean by "not the type of woman he spends time with?' staring at his chest, and asked again,"what kind of woman do you think I am, then?" Iden took a few steps backwards and said, "You are the kind of woman a man would want to bring home, introduce to his parents, closest friends, and family members; you are the kind of woman he would want to flaunt at parties, hold hands with, and declare to the world, "I am married to this woman, she is mine; do not even dare to look at her." You are the kind of woman, princess, that a man like me could forget about all the attractive women out there and return home early every single night just to fuck his wife." Once more turning aro
She smirked as she shoved a stray book off her lap. “You know… you don’t have to be the Don. You can just be who you are.” Iden tilted his head slightly, lips twitching into a faint smile—small, but real. “You’re the only one who gets to say that.” And in that moment—grief shadowing his eyes, the scent of blood still faint on his shirt—he smiled. He rubbed her hair playfully, gently mussing the strands like he used to when they were kids. “Really?” she grinned, sitting cross-legged on her bed. “Okay… if you say so. But I can tell you mine.” She beamed, reaching for a thick leather diary. “I used to keep memos, you know? I’d write down everything I enjoyed. The places I loved, food I liked, people I met. Kinda old school.” Iden sat down beside her, intrigued despite himself. Her glittering eyes—so full of life—reminded him of someone else. Someone who once laughed shyly and smiled like an idiot. Ellaya. His gaze drifted from his sister to the window, where night pressed it
Days passed like smoke—slipping through fingers, vanishing before they could be held. Time didn’t move forward; it bled. Minutes dragged like hours, and weeks collapsed in on themselves. Iden didn’t sleep. He didn’t eat. He sat in silence, trapped in his own mind, spiraling deeper into a storm of memories and questions. The moon became his only witness. Some nights, he watched the stars, others, the rain. Most nights, he simply stared into the void, heart thundering beneath skin that no longer felt like his own. A storm churned in his chest—loud, endless, and hungry. He saw her face in every shadow. Heard her voice in every silence. Her scent still clung to his lungs like smoke from a fire he could never put out. It had been a week since the blast. A week of searching. A week without answers. She wasn’t listed among the dead. But she wasn’t among the living either. She was missing. And Iden knew—deep in the part of his soul that still burned for her—she was alive. Hidi
The room was breathtaking—paneled in dark mahogany, steeped in the scent of old paper and aged wood. Floor-to-ceiling shelves held leather-bound books, their spines gilded and cracked with time. But it was the massive oil painting that stole Ellaya’s breath. A woman with wild purple hair and luminous skin smiled down at them. Her eyes—familiar, haunting—seemed to follow Ellaya across the room. She froze. The resemblance was undeniable. Same striking bone structure. Same purple irises. But the woman in the painting looked lighter—freer. Her smile held none of the weight Ellaya carried. None of the pain. Photos cluttered every surface. In one, the woman stood beside a tall, devastatingly handsome man—mid-laugh, hand wrapped around her waist. Their wedding photo. They looked hopelessly in love. Another showed them cradling a baby. The man's eyes brimmed with pride. The woman’s arms curled around the infant like a shield. The baby… was her. There was no mistaking it. Ellaya stagge
Ellaya didn’t remember when they moved her. One moment, she was in her cell—cracked walls, the stench of sweat and rusted iron, a tray of untouched food rotting in the corner. The next, she woke in hell. Not the metaphorical kind. The real one. The kind where screaming and silence existed in the same breath. Where punishment wasn’t given for madness—it was fed to it. You weren’t treated. You were drowned. The asylum was never quiet. Men laughed at the ceiling. Women whispered to the walls. Eyes followed her—hungry, hollow. Human only in name. She didn’t scream. Didn’t fight. She just watched. Watched them drag limp bodies behind rusted doors marked “TREATMENT.” Watched them come back quieter. Emptier. Sometimes not at all. They said she was dangerous. Deranged. A monster in a pretty shell. She didn’t correct them. Let them think she was mad. Let them forget she existed. At least then, no one expected her to survive. She’d already buried herself inside. What was left to
The room hummed with tension. Blue light from dozens of monitors painted ghostly shapes across Angelo’s office. Cables tangled like veins across the floor, machines blinked like they were breathing. The sharp scent of hot metal, sweat, and cigarette smoke hung thick in the air. “Everything’s set,” Kai reported, voice clipped. “Cameras, medics, chopper in the air. Our men are spread across the asylum. She's walking into the lion’s mouth.” Iden stepped into the room, slow and silent. This was the war room. It looked like one. A place where lives were traded, decisions signed in blood. He moved to the center of the chaos, eyes drawn to the wall of screens. Every angle of the massive asylum flickered in shaky grain. Corridors lined with flickering lights. Rooms filled with twitching shadows—patients, doctors, ghosts. The asylum was a tomb disguised as a hospital. Built on illegal records and rotting experiments. A hellhole. A cover for human trafficking, organ harvesting, un
It had been a week. And their plan—cold, calculated, inhumane—was working.The medication laced into her system had done more than sedate her. It blurred the edges of time, pulling her into hallucinations stitched from trauma and shadows. She saw things that never happened. Heard voices that whispered lies in familiar tones. Faces from the past flickered before her eyes, only to vanish like smoke. And when she spoke, it was to people long gone.Kai gave the daily reports, short and clinical. “She’s deteriorating. Fast. The hallucinations are getting worse.”But Iden, arms folded and gaze fixed on the monitor, wasn’t convinced the drugs were fully to blame. “Or maybe it’s not the meds,” he said quietly. “Maybe it’s just her past… clawing its way out.”“Does it matter?” Kai muttered. “She’s breaking. That’s the goal.”It didn’t sit right with Iden. Nothing about this did. But the truth was, it was working.His eyes locked on the screen in front of him. There she was—sitting on the cold
*If she chooses never to return to your life… you’ll let her go.* The words dug into Iden’s chest like nails, each syllable burrowing beneath skin and bone until all that remained was a hollow ache. His mother's voice echoed long after she was gone, like a ghost haunting the edges of his sanity. He collapsed backward onto the bed, limbs flung carelessly like a marionette with severed strings. His arm dangled limply off the edge. The bedsheet twisted under him, bunching like the knots in his chest. His eyes didn’t move. Not even to blink. "Princess..." The word escaped his lips in a breathless rasp—more of a ghost than a name. *You are my knight in shining armor, my hero.* "I'm not," he choked, barely above a whisper. "I never was." His throat tightened. He swallowed hard, but it didn’t help—the guilt still rose like bile. "I’m the fucking monster, Laaya," he muttered, fist tightening in the bedsheet. "You should’ve avoided me. Hid from me. Run as far as you could."
“No. She’s not willing to meet anyone. We tried.”Arthur’s raspy voice hit Iden like another bolt to the ribs—sharp and cold.“If we want this plan to work,” Arthur continued, “we have to pull her to our side. She’s not just sitting in that cell. She’s slipping further every day.”Kai took a long sip from his glass and slammed a stack of photos onto the table. The room dimly buzzed with the hum of old lights, one flickering above the table like it couldn't make up its mind.Iden didn’t speak. His thumb rubbed anxiously over the back of his folded hand, a small movement that betrayed the storm inside him. His eyes locked on the photos.Ellaya.Clad in dull prisoner grays. Knees to her chest. Eyes not looking—just staring.At the wall.At the floor.At food she never touched.Empty. Hollowed out.Always alone.Always in the corner.Always sad.Always broken.A tremor slid through Iden’s spine. He had pulled monsters from holes and made them bleed in ways they didn’t think possible.But
The room was drowned in shadows, lit only by the moonlight filtering through half-parted drapes, dancing like ghosts across the cold wooden floor. The air was still, but heavy—cotton curtains swaying gently in the midnight draft spilling from the cracked window. It should have been a peaceful night. The moon looked soft, radiant—throwing its silver blessings onto the room like scattered pearls. But inside, a storm raged. Iden sat on the floor, back hunched against the edge of the bed, legs sprawled as if the strength had left his body entirely. His elbows rested on his knees, fingers tangled in his hair, tugging—desperate for any sensation that wasn't this gnawing emptiness. His head hung low, shoulders shaking with each labored breath. His eyes—once sharp, unshakable—were now dull and lifeless, buried beneath the weight of sleepless nights and unshed truths. He looked like a man hollowed out from the inside. Like something vital had been scooped from his chest and he hadn’t even