His Love Was My Hell

No Way Out

"Maren, you've never lied to me. But now you won't tell me the truth, and it's just making me worry more. Do you understand?"

Maren stayed silent, the sound of rain on the other end of the line filling the air.

After a long pause, Sofia suddenly snapped, her voice filled with anger, "It's that jerk, Jack, isn't it?"

Maren didn't answer.

Sofia's heart sank, and her voice trembled as she asked, "It's Elias, isn't it?"

Maren took a deep breath, finally deciding to face it head-on. She said, "Yeah, it's him. But you don't have to worry, he just invited me for a meal, a coffee. You know, he's the most gentlemanly guy in New York's high society. He wouldn't do anything to me..."

"Maren Cole! Do you think I'm a three-year-old?!" Sofia suddenly screamed, her voice breaking, "A meal and coffee? He's just going to give you one hundred twenty thousand dollars for nothing? Don't tell me you found that stack of cash on Wall Street! One hundred twenty thousand dollars, that's ten times the amount for a Hollywood escort's first night! Maren, he's humiliating you, don't you get it?!"

"I know! I know better than anyone!" Maren bit her lip hard, tasting blood in her mouth. Her voice choked up, "But what am I supposed to do? Didn't you say this morning that some lunatic threw an entire cup of ice water in your face? Right after that, Victor from the club called me. He said if I didn't meet Elias today, next time it wouldn't be ice water. He warned me not to piss him off, or you'd end up like the disfigured girl in The Phantom of the Opera."

Maren let out a self-deprecating laugh, but it was full of hopelessness. "You know, that jerk has connections with the LA mob, and when he goes crazy, he'll do anything. We've seen it more than once."

At the other end of the line, Sofia stared at her fingers, freezing in the rain, her voice shaking. "Maren, we... we need to leave New York. There's got to be somewhere else we can go. We could go to Seattle, Portland, anywhere..."

"We can't leave." Maren shook her head helplessly, tears streaming down uncontrollably, stinging her hands as they fell. "You know better than anyone, we can't leave. Our social security numbers, rental records, our work info—Victor has all of it. He's got connections with the immigration office. Even if we ran, they'd catch us as illegal immigrants and bring us back. And... why should we run? I've got my studies here, you've got your singing dreams, all the hard work we've put in for years. Why should we let some jerks make us run away in shame? No matter how small or worthless we may seem, we have the right to live! No one has the right to take that from us! Sofia, do you understand?"

Sofia tried to say something more, but Maren didn't have the time to listen.

She closed her eyes, her voice soft, almost like a whisper, "Don't be scared. Remember how we used to make wishes at the Statue of Liberty when we were kids? Trust me, the night will pass, and tomorrow... tomorrow will be a new day."

A muffled thud came from the phone, followed by the sound of something breaking.

Maren could almost see Sofia kneeling in the puddles on the New York street, the cake box falling from her hands.

The beautiful red velvet cream mixed with the rainwater, turning the delicate cardboard into pulp.

Sofia bent over, pressing her mouth shut, her throat choking on sobs, unable to say a word through her grief.

"Maren, don't you understand? That man, he's not just going to let you go like that..."

That was the last thing Sofia said before Maren harshly hung up the phone, in the middle of that downpour of rain.

The rain was so loud it almost swallowed up every sound. Sofia didn't know if Maren heard those words clearly.

But it didn't matter anymore.

They both knew what awaited them.

But they had no choice.

A life without choice is a tragic one, but they didn't even have the right to escape.

They didn't die that night in the Phantom nightclub, or in the dark, sunless alleys of Brooklyn, or in the cold, crumbling orphanage.

They had barely survived, so they had to keep living.

Even if it meant living through these bone-crushing, soul-draining days.

The rain outside slowly faded, and the wall clock ticked steadily, never stopping.

In the terror of not seeing what lay ahead, every second of waiting felt like an endless torture.

Maren's asthma was getting worse; she clutched her chest and couldn't stop coughing violently.

When the heavy wooden door swung open again, the rain had stopped.

The gray clouds lifted, the mist cleared, and golden sunlight pierced through the clouds, sharp as a knife, straight into Maren's eyes.

The sudden light made her squint instinctively, and in the sharp pain, she spun around.

Then, she saw Elias Walker.

The man she had been waiting for—the all-powerful capital mogul who ruled New York—stood silently behind her like a god.

He wore a perfectly tailored dark suit, platinum cufflinks gleaming coldly in the sunlight, radiating an intimidating, unapproachable aura.

It was like fate—an inescapable doom.

Maren's body trembled uncontrollably, fear wrapping around her heart like vines. Her breathing grew shallow, her throat tight like there was cotton stuck in it.

She couldn't help but step back, retreating... until her back hit the cold glass of the floor-to-ceiling window.

Maren's eyes widened, her heart racing as she stared at the man in front of her.

Outside, the drop was endless.

She had nowhere to run.

Elias seemed to read her fear, a satisfied smirk curling on his lips.

Like a predator high above, he walked toward her with a dangerous, charming smile, taking his time, step by step, as if he were coming to end her life once and for all.