Chapter 5: Trapped in His World
1150 Words
The car ride stretched on in tense silence. Amelia sat rigidly in her seat, arms folded tightly over her chest as she glared out the window. The city lights blurred past, but her mind was focused on one thing—getting away. She had to get away.
Ethan, as always, was too calm, too controlled, one hand resting lazily on the wheel while the other tapped a slow rhythm on his thigh. He was enjoying this—her frustration, her helplessness. She could feel his eyes flicking toward her every now and then, amused.
“You’ll give yourself a headache if you keep frowning like that,” he murmured.
Amelia’s grip on her arm tightened, nails digging into her skin. She refused to answer. The ghost of his kiss still lingered on her lips, sending unwanted shivers through her body. Every time she thought about it, her face burned with both anger and something she didn’t want to name.
But the longer they drove, the more her unease grew.
This wasn’t the way to her apartment.
She straightened in her seat, heart pounding. “Where are we going?”
Ethan didn’t look at her. “Home.”
Her stomach twisted. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
His lips curled into a smirk. “You already are.”
Her pulse spiked with panic. “Turn the car around, Ethan.”
“I don’t take orders, sweetheart.”
She clenched her jaw. “You can’t just—”
He suddenly pressed a button on the console, and the divider between them and the driver went up, sealing them in complete privacy. Ethan finally turned his head toward her, those sharp silver eyes pinning her in place.
“I can. And I already have.”
The car pulled through enormous iron gates, and Amelia sucked in a sharp breath.
The mansion loomed in front of her—massive, modern, and cold.
It was a fortress.
Her breath quickened. The sheer size of it was overwhelming. The driveway alone felt like a mile long, stretching between towering hedges and pristine gardens.
As soon as Ethan parked, Amelia threw open the car door and stepped out. Her heart pounded as she turned toward the gates.
They were already closing.
Her stomach dropped.
She whirled toward Ethan, her eyes flashing with fury. “You locked me in?”
He leaned lazily against the car, watching her struggle. “No. I locked everyone else out.”
“That’s the same damn thing!”
He merely lifted a brow, completely unfazed by her anger.
She scanned the area. No guards in sight, but she knew they were there. Probably watching her every move.
Ethan shoved his hands in his pockets. “Go ahead, try to run.”
Amelia’s fists clenched at his arrogance. She wanted to fight, to push back, to prove to him that he couldn’t just steal her freedom.
But the mansion loomed behind him like an unbreakable wall. The gates were locked, the security invisible but present.
She was trapped.
With no other choice, she turned on her heel and followed him inside.
The interior of Ethan’s home was just as overwhelming.
Expensive. Lavish. Empty.
Despite the breathtaking design—the marble floors, the towering windows, the sleek, modern decor—it felt lifeless.
Like a place where no one really lived.
A house, but not a home.
She barely had time to process before a man appeared, setting plates of food on a grand dining table.
“I’m not hungry,” she said immediately, folding her arms.
Ethan sat down, completely unbothered. “Suit yourself.”
He picked up his fork and began eating, completely at ease, like he hadn’t just kidn*pped her.
Amelia stood there stubbornly, refusing to give in.
Then her stomach growled.
Loudly.
Ethan paused mid-bite, his lips twitching in amusement. “You were saying?”
Her face burned.
He gestured to the chair across from him. “Sit.”
She glared at him.
Then her stomach growled again.
Ethan chuckled. “Stop being difficult.”
Swallowing her pride, Amelia grumbled under her breath and sank into the chair.
Ethan didn’t say anything, but his smirk was infuriatingly smug as he continued eating.
She picked up the fork and stabbed her food, deliberately ignoring the way he was watching her.
“Good girl,” he murmured.
Her entire body froze. Heat rushed to her face.
She stabbed her fork into the plate a little harder than necessary, refusing to acknowledge the way her stomach flipped at his words.
Damn him.
They ate in silence, but the air between them was charged.
Every brush of his gaze, every flicker of his smirk—it sent an unwanted thrill through her.
And she hated herself for it.
After dinner, Ethan led her down the hall to a bedroom.
Her bedroom.
She stopped in the doorway, blinking at the size of it.
It was massive. Bigger than her entire apartment. A king-sized bed, a seating area, a fireplace, and…
She turned toward the door on the far wall and pulled it open.
A walk-in closet.
Her jaw dropped.
It was full of clothes.
Not just any clothes—designer dresses, silk pajamas, expensive shoes, and lingerie that made her face burn just looking at them.
Everything was her size.
She spun toward Ethan. “You planned this?”
He leaned lazily against the doorway, watching her reaction with amusement.
“You belong here, Amelia.”
Her chest tightened.
She grabbed the nearest high heel and threw it at him.
Ethan dodged it effortlessly, chuckling. “Feisty.”
“Let me go, Ethan,” she snapped.
His expression darkened, the playfulness fading.
“I will,” he said smoothly. “But not yet.”
Amelia’s fingers curled into fists. “You can’t keep me here forever.”
He stepped forward, his gaze dipping to her lips before locking onto her eyes. “We’ll see.”
Her heart pounded.
She needed to get out of here.
And fast.
Later that night, Amelia lay in bed, staring at the locked door.
She had checked every window, every exit. Nothing.
She was trapped.
The house was silent. Too big, too empty.
Then—she heard it.
Soft footsteps.
Right outside her door.
Her breath hitched.
She sat up slowly, heart pounding.
The footsteps stopped.
Then, a soft knock.
She held her breath.
Then a voice. Low. Rough. Familiar.
“Go to sleep, Amelia.”
Ethan.
He was standing right outside.
Watching.
Waiting.
Her throat went dry.
She swallowed hard and forced herself to lie back down, facing the wall.
But even as she closed her eyes, sleep wouldn’t come.
Not with Ethan so close.
Not when her body still burned from his touch.
Not when she realized the most terrifying thing of all—
She didn’t know if she wanted to run anymore.
To Be Continued…
- Writer
