I Belong To Him

“What is wrong with you?” Annalyn clutched Rose’s trembling hands, her eyes wide with concern and confusion. Her voice cracked slightly, a mixture of urgency and tenderness slipping through. “I— I just can’t be with him,” Rose finally uttered, voice barely a whisper, as if the words themselves pierced her heart. Tears trickled down her cheeks, one after the other, like an endless stream from a broken dam. Her body shook uncontrollably as the weight of her decision, her fear, and her heartbreak came crashing down all at once. Annalyn wrapped her arms around her best friend, pulling her close in a protective embrace. She could feel Rose’s pain in the way her body trembled, in the sound of her sobs, in the heaviness of her silence. “Okay, okay. That’s enough now. It’s fine,” Annalyn murmured, stroking Rose’s back with one hand while gently wiping her tears with the other. “Just tell me what happened and I’ll help you. Did he hit you? Did he cheat on you?” “No!” Rose’s voice was more desperate than defensive. Her response was quick, sharp, and absolute, as if even the thought of it hurt her more than she could bear. Annalyn clenched her jaw. Frustration simmered in her chest, but she held her tongue. She knew now was not the time to argue or pressure. She just kept holding her, letting Rose cry as much as she needed. The room fell into silence. A heavy, suffocating silence that echoed with unspoken pain and shattered dreams. Only the sound of Rose’s stifled sobs filled the air. Suddenly, a knock broke through the quiet. Both women froze. Rose pulled away slowly, quickly wiping her cheeks and forcing her breath to calm. She sat upright and tried to gather herself. “Come in,” she said softly, her voice strained but composed. The door creaked open and a man dressed in a sleek black suit stepped inside. His posture was rigid and dignified, his presence commanding—yet his youthful, almost innocent face slightly softened the intensity of his aura. It was Drake, Larkan’s assistant. “Madam,” he began with a respectful bow, “Sir wants you to attend the masquerade party tonight. Everything is already prepared downstairs. Please let me know when you are ready.” With a courteous nod, he stepped back and closed the door quietly behind him. Annalyn stood up, fists clenched. “That man has some nerve—” “Don’t,” Rose interrupted, grabbing Annalyn’s hand. Her eyes were no longer filled with tears, but something else—resolve, maybe. Or perhaps a last shred of strength. “Don’t say anything. If you talk too much, maybe I won’t get the chance to talk to you again.” “Gosh, Rose.” Annalyn sighed, exasperated. “I’m trying here. But you’re both making it so damn hard. Back in college, you two were inseparable. The perfect couple everyone admired. You used to say you could never love anyone else. What happened?” “I just can’t be with him anymore.” “But why?” Annalyn sat down again, eyes searching her friend’s face. “Larkan was the reason you found your light again after your parents died. You told me you could die for him, Rose. He was your anchor. So why are you letting go now?” Rose’s lips quivered. Her body curled slightly, as if trying to shield herself from memories that hurt more than any weapon. She didn’t answer. Her silence screamed. Seeing her like that, Annalyn let out a deep breath and leaned back. “Fine. If you’re not going to explain, I won’t force you. But are you sure you want this? Walking away means losing everything your parents left you. The estate, the name, the rights. Are you really ready to throw it all away?” Rose nodded—slowly, painfully. Each motion was a thousand knives digging into her heart. “I get it now,” Annalyn finally said. “Alright. You’re going to attend tonight’s celebration. I’ll help you escape. I’ll get everything ready. Clothes, documents, your passport, your bag. Just… think about it one last time, okay?” “But—” “No buts. I’ll take care of it.” Annalyn gave her a faint smile. “You don’t need to thank me. That’s what best friends are for.” Then, without another word, she stepped out and closed the door. Left alone, Rose collapsed on the bed and covered her face. Her sobs returned, quiet but raw. She promised herself—this would be the last time she’d cry. She had to be strong now. Even if it meant hurting others. She knew what her escape meant. Annalyn, being Larkan’s cousin, would bear the consequences. And knowing Larkan, those consequences would be harsh. But Annalyn had her parents to protect her. It wouldn’t lead to death—or at least Rose hoped not. She picked up the phone and called Drake. “I’m ready,” she said calmly. ... That evening, Rose descended the staircase like a vision from a dream. She wore a dazzling white gown that shimmered under the chandeliers, each thread glinting like stardust. Her long dark hair was pinned up elegantly, soft curls framing her delicate face. She looked ethereal. Untouchable. An angel dressed for a masquerade. “You’re beautiful,” Larkan said softly, taking her hand and leaning in to kiss her cheek. But Rose instinctively moved back. A flicker of shadow crossed Larkan’s expression, but he said nothing. Instead, he firmly clasped her hand and led her to the grand ballroom. Together, they looked like royalty. Regal and graceful. Guests couldn’t help but stare in admiration. To the outside world, they were the embodiment of a perfect couple—charming, powerful, and hopelessly in love. On stage, Larkan made a brief speech and welcomed the guests. Rose stood beside him, smiling faintly, her eyes scanning the crowd. Then she leaned close and whispered, “I need to use the restroom.” Larkan nodded, though his eyes followed her with suspicion. Something didn’t feel right. After she disappeared behind the corner, he tried to focus on a conversation with one of the investors, but his thoughts lingered on her. Her touch felt distant. Her eyes, hollow. Fifteen minutes passed. Too long. He stood up and headed toward the restroom. But before he reached it, the lights went out. A loud gunshot echoed through the hall. Screams erupted. Panic swept through the crowd as guests rushed toward the back exit—right near the restroom. Larkan’s voice boomed above the chaos. “Find her!” As the lights flickered back on, Larkan burst into the restroom. Empty. “Find her!” he roared. “Sir,” Drake reported breathlessly, “she escaped—she took Miss Annalyn’s car.” Larkan didn’t wait another second. He stormed outside and jumped into his own vehicle. “Track her,” he ordered. “Yes, sir.” ... Fifteen minutes earlier “I can’t go with you,” Annalyn told Rose, pressing the keys into her hands. “I’ll create a diversion. Everything you need is in the bag. Just drive. Don’t stop. Don’t look back.” Rose stared at her, overwhelmed with emotion. “Thank you,” she whispered. It wasn’t enough. But it was all she could say. They hugged one last time. Annalyn’s arms were warm, steady. “Be safe,” she whispered into Rose’s ear. ... Then Rose drove. Fast. Her heart pounded with every turn, every corner. Her hands gripped the wheel so tightly her knuckles tuned white. Tears threatened to fall again, but she blinked them away. She had no time for weakness. She had one chance. One shot at freedom. But when she reached the port and stepped out of the car— Larkan was there. He stormed toward her, rage in his eyes. He grabbed her arm and shoved her back inside the car. “Let me go!” she screamed, struggling. But he was stronger. Always had been. He kissed her, forcefully. Possessively. It was not love—it was power. Then, suddenly, he staggered. “What happened?” she gasped, seeing blood on his shirt. He smirked, breath ragged. “You think you can run from me?” She pushed him, tears falling once more. He stepped back, still smirking. “Bring her home,” he said to Damon. Then he turned to her one last time. “You can’t run away from me, Rose.” She looked away, jaw clenched. Damon drove in silence. The road stretched endlessly before them. Then she saw the blood. A deep red stain on her dress. “He was shot before you arrived,” Damon finally said, his voice hesitant. “But he insisted on waiting for you.” Damon is Larkan's best body guard and knows he cannot say those words but he can't help it anyways he can just accept his punishment. Rose said nothing. She stared out the window, heart in her throat, eyes burning. Inside her, a storm brewed—anger, sorrow, fear, guilt. But above all else… love. Twisted, broken, impossible love. And that was the beginning of her torment.