Run Sweet Prisoner

The digital leash

Six months passed after the great argument in the art studio. Valerie spent her days sitting in front of her massive wooden easel painting beautiful landscapes, bright flowers, and quiet fields. She did not paint the stormy ocean anymore. She painted whatever Alex wanted her to paint.

She kept her head down, spoke in a soft voice, and she never disobeyed his orders.

To Alex, she looked like a broken horse. He thought he had won the battle. He became very affectionate again, bringing her expensive chocolates, silk robes, and rare art books from Europe. But underneath her quiet smile, Valerie's mind was always working like a clock. She was not accepting defeat so soon. She was just waiting. She was learning how to survive inside her cage and maybe someday escape.

One bright Tuesday morning, Valerie was sitting at the white marble kitchen island, sipping her black coffee. The apartment was warm, and the sun cut through the massive glass windows, making the silver counter tops glow.

Alex walked into the kitchen dressed in a dark blue suit that fit his tall frame perfectly. He looked handsome, powerful, and completely relaxed. He carried a small, square box covered in black velvet and walked up behind Valerie, placing his large, heavy hands on her shoulders. Valerie felt her muscles instantly tighten, but she forced herself to stay still and not shiver.

"Good morning, my beautiful girl," Alex murmured, pressing a cold kiss against the side of her neck.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Valerie answered smoothly. She turned her head and gave him a perfect, practiced smile. "You are up early today babe. Do you have an important meeting at the office?"

"Every day is important," Alex said, sliding his hands down her arms. He placed the black velvet box on the marble counter right next to her coffee cup. "But today is special for you. I brought you a gift."

Valerie looked at the box. A cold drop of dread fell into her stomach. In the beginning of their romance, his gifts made her heart flutter with excitement but now, every gift felt like another brick in the wall around her life.

"Another gift?" Valerie asked, keeping her tone light and grateful. "Alex, you already bought me those beautiful French brushes last week. You don't have to keep spoiling me."

"I want to spoil you," Alex said, his voice dropping into that low, serious tone that always carried a hidden warning. "But this is not just a luxury. This is a necessity. Open it."

Valerie reached out with a trembling hand and lifted the lid of the velvet box. Inside sat a brand-new smartphone. It was incredibly sleek, finished in a matte black metal, with a completely blank screen. It looked very heavy, and there was no brand name or logo anywhere on the casing.

Valerie blinked, looking from the phone up to Alex’s dark eyes. "A phone? I already have a phone, Alex. My old one works perfectly fine."

Alex reached into the box, lifted the sleek black device, and pressed the power button. The screen glowed to life, but it did not look like a regular phone screen. There were no colorful app icons, no social media symbols, and no internet browsers. There were only three large, silver buttons on the digital display.

"Your old phone was unsafe, Valerie," Alex explained, his face completely calm as he slid the device across the marble counter toward her fingers. "It is a standard commercial model. Anyone could hack it. Strange people could call you. Paparazzi could track your digital location. I cannot sleep at night knowing your personal lines are open to the dirty public. So, I had my top tech engineers at Steward Global Media create this custom device just for you."

Valerie stared at the three silver buttons on the screen. The reality of what he was saying hit her like a physical blow. "Alex... what do you mean? Where would my contacts be? my friends' numbers? How do I call my mother?"

Alex’s eyes turned cold, the warmth vanishing from his face in a split second.

"Your mother has my office number, Valerie. If there is a real emergency, she can call my assistant," he said, his voice dropping into a sharp, icy whisper. "And your old friends from that cheap graphic design shop do not need to speak with you anymore. They belong to your past life. You are Mrs. Alex Steward now. You do not need to gossip on the phone with ordinary people. This phone is a digital leash of safety. It connects you directly to me,and to my head of security Marcus, and also to the main desk downstairs. It is encrypted. Nobody can track it except for me."

Valerie felt the air leave her lungs. She looked down at her lap as her hands clutched tightly into the fabric of her silk skirt. She felt completely helpless. Alex was stripping her off from the connection to the outside world. He had already taken her car, her studio, her business, and her freedom. Now, he was taking her voice. He was isolating her completely, cutting the final threads that tied her to reality.

"Do you understand why I am doing this, Valerie?" Alex asked reaching up his large fingers gripping her chin and forcing her face up so she had to look into his dark, unblinking eyes. He didn't squeeze hard enough to leave a bruise, but his grip was solid, unyielding, and terrifying. "Tell me you understand."

"I... I understand, Alex," Valerie whispered, a single tear spilling over her eyelashes. "You want to keep me safe."

Alex smiled, his face instantly turning warm and loving again, like a sun coming out after a sudden storm. He let go off her chin and patted her cheek gently. "Good girl. I knew you would see the wisdom in it. I do everything because I love you, Val. Never forget that. I will have Marcus take your old phone and destroy it before I leave for the office."

He picked up his briefcase from the floor, adjusted his gold cufflinks, and walked toward the private elevator. The metal doors slid open with a soft, expensive hiss, and he stepped inside, disappearing from her view.

Valerie sat completely alone in the massive, silent kitchen looking at the black phone resting on the white marble. It looked like a small, dark coffin for her soul.

She tried standing up slowly but her legs felt weak and heavy. She walked out of the kitchen into the grand living room, heading toward her art studio at the end of the long hallway. As she walked, she heard a tiny, mechanical sound above her head.

Valerie stopped in the middle of the hallway and slowly looked up at the ceiling. In the corner of the molding, where the white wall met the plaster, a small black chip had been installed. Inside the dark glass of the dome, a tiny red light was blinking.

It was a security camera.

Valerie's heart gave a violent thud against her ribs. She looked around the long hallway. She noticed another black chip near the entrance of the living room. She walked quickly into her art studio and looked up. There was a third camera mounted directly above her easel, its dark lens pointing straight down at her canvas.

Alex hadn't just changed her phone. He had turned the entire penthouse into a high-tech panopticon. He was watching her every move, counting her steps, monitoring her expressions.

She walked over to her easel, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. She felt a wave of intense panic rising in her chest, making her dizzy. She wanted to scream, to smash the windows, to rip the cameras off the walls. But she knew she couldn't. If she showed any anger, if she showed any resistance, Alex would lock her in her bedroom for days. He would take away her paints and he could eventually break her completely.

She forced herself to breathe deeply, closing her eyes until the dizziness passed. She looked up at the camera lens above her easel. She knew it was recording her right now. She knew Alex or Marcus could see her on their computer screens downtown.

With a shaking hand, Valerie picked up her paint brush and dipped it into a pool of bright blue oil paint. She faced the blank canvas, forced a sweet, peaceful smile onto her face, and began to paint a field of beautiful, trapped flowers. She was totally helpless and completely surrounded by his eyes, but as the brush hit the canvas, a cold, dark spark of determination lit up inside her chest.

Now that she knew he was watching her, she would make sure he only saw exactly what he wanted to see, until the day she found a way to make him blind.