Trapped in His Velvet Cage

Episode 13:Chains of Trust

The office was finally empty, the hum of fluorescent lights replaced by the quiet of the evening. Fuggy’s legs ached, her hands still faintly damp from the spilled coffee, her papers shuffled and half-organized. She stepped out of the building, the chill of the night air hitting her face like a silent reminder of the day’s chaos.

She walked slowly along the roadside, the streetlights casting long shadows across the pavement. Her chest tightened as she thought about the whispers, the laughter, the mocking glances that seemed to follow her all day. Why am I always so clumsy? Why am I so slow?

A small tear threatened to fall, and she hastily blinked it away. I can’t cry here… I can’t…

But one solitary tear escaped, tracing a quiet line down her cheek. She pressed her hand to her lips, whispering to herself, “No… I can’t… I have to resist.”

Her thoughts shifted to the heavier truth: If I lose this job, how will I feed my mom? How will I survive? I have to keep going… even if it hurts.

She glanced up at the night sky, the silver glow of the moon catching her eyes. Its serene beauty felt impossibly distant, untouchable. I want to be like you… beautiful, unique, unafraid… but that’s not my life.

A memory flickered in her mind—a small, seemingly insignificant incident from her childhood that always made her heart swell. A tiny smile tugged at her lips despite herself, soft and fleeting. Maybe… maybe I can still be better. Maybe I can survive this…

The night air whispered around her as she continued along the empty street, each step slow, measured, filled with quiet determination.

And yet, just as she felt a moment of fragile hope, the soft sound of an engine echoed from the darkened road behind her. She froze, heart skipping a beat, her hands tightening around her bag.

Somewhere deep inside, a small voice whispered: Change is coming… whether I’m ready or not.

The glow of the moon reflected in her eyes, and her expression hardened with a mix of fear and resolve.

The city around her was silent, but the night was far from safe.

MEANWHILE, VINCENT DRIVE TO MANSION

The heavy silence of the car still clung to Elena’s skin as Vincent’s mansion loomed closer. When he stopped in front of the towering gates, her heart sank. She knew what this place meant—cages, endless walls, no escape.

Vincent stepped out and opened her door. She didn’t move. Her nails dug into the leather seat as she stared stubbornly at the glowing lights of the mansion.

“I’m not getting down,” she whispered.

Vincent’s jaw tightened, his voice sharp as steel.

“What?”

She froze. That one word was enough to silence her protest. In the next second, his strong arms scooped her up, ignoring her struggles.

“Let me go! Vincent—please—” she twisted, hitting his chest with weak fists. But his grip only tightened.

“You should’ve thought about that before you trusted him,” he growled, carrying her inside like she weighed nothing.

By the time they reached his room, Elena’s mind was a storm of confusion and dread. He pushed the door open, carried her in, and tossed her onto the bed. The loud click of the lock echoed like a death sentence.

Vincent’s tall frame moved toward her with unhurried steps, a devil’s smile curving his lips.

“So,” he said in a low, taunting voice. “You trusted Damien… over me.”

The words sent chills through her spine. Elena scrambled off the bed, backing away until her legs hit the edge of the table. Her throat was dry.

“I… I—”

“Don’t even try.” His eyes darkened. “You trusted that coward over me. You even went with him. Brave, Elena. Very brave.”

Her hands trembled, but anger forced her lips to move.

“Y-Yes, I did! At least he doesn’t torture me like you do. At least he said he would free me… take me home.”

Vincent let out a laugh—low at first, then louder, until it became manic.

“Free you? Take you home?” His laughter shook her to the bone. He leaned forward, his voice dripping mockery. “Oh, Elena… I thought you were clever. Turns out you’re just slow.”

Her breath hitched.

“You want to know why he promised freedom?” Vincent’s tone turned razor-sharp. “Because Damien wanted to hand you to my rival, Marco. To use you as bait. To watch me bleed.”

Elena blinked, her chest tightening.

“You think Damien cared?” Vincent’s words lashed out like whips. “He wanted to destroy me, and you were the perfect key. If I hadn’t tracked you, if I hadn’t reached before him, you’d already be in Marco’s hands. And Marco…” Vincent’s jaw clenched. “Marco doesn’t spare women. He breaks them.”

Elena’s lips parted in shock, Damien’s cunning smile flashing in her memory—the way he’d promised to wait outside the mansion with a car, telling her he’d take her home. Her stomach dropped, disbelief sinking in.

Still, her voice wavered.

“I… I don’t trust you. I don’t want to hear your lies. I don’t want this life.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Why is everyone making me miserable? Am I just… someone’s pawn? Someone’s toy?”

She cried harder, her voice cracking. “Why do you lock me here? Why do you keep ruining me?”

“Elena—” Vincent took a step forward.

“No!” she shouted, backing away. “This is all because of you. You’re not human, Vincent—you’re a psycho!”

His eyes narrowed, burning with rage, but she wasn’t finished. Her grief poured out like wildfire.

“What do you even want from me? I never hurt anyone, I never did anything wrong. I just wanted a normal life. But you—” her voice broke— “you came back and caged me again!”

Her breaths were ragged. Then a thought hit her, sharp and terrifying.

“My mom…” She suddenly grabbed his collar, tears blinding her. “Why? Why did you touch her? What did you do to my mom?!” Her voice cracked, desperation spilling. “She’s the only one I have left. The only reason I live. What did you do to her?!”

Vincent’s expression flickered, something unspoken tightening in his gaze.

“Elena. Listen. I didn’t do anything to her. Instead, I—” He stopped himself.

Her hands trembled against his shirt. “Instead… what? Tell me!”

Silence. His lips pressed into a line.

Elena’s sobs grew harsher, echoing in the locked room.

“You close every door for me to live… you take away everything I love. Why?!” Her face twisted with anguish. “Why me?!”

Before Vincent could react, Elena staggered back, her tear-filled eyes darting to the glass door of the washroom. She moved toward it, trembling hands gripping the handle of a broken shard lying nearby.

“Elena!” Vincent’s voice thundered, but too late.

“I don’t want this life!” she screamed, tears burning down her cheeks. And before his hand could reach hers, she thrust the glass into her stomach.

Time stopped.

“Elena!” Vincent’s roar shook the walls as crimson spread across her clothes. She gasped, her sight blurring, her body crumpling.

He caught her before she hit the ground, his arms trembling for the first time in years.

“No, no, no. Stay with me. Don’t you dare close your eyes!”

Her lips moved weakly, forming his name. Then her body went limp.

Vincent’s world shattered. He carried her out, his powerful legs running, his voice hoarse from shouting her name.

At the hospital, doctors rushed her into surgery. Vincent, drenched in her blood, stood frozen, his fists clenched, his heart hammering like never before. For the first time, the unshakable Vincent looked broken.

Behind the doors, Elena’s life hung by a thread.

And all he could do was wait.