CHAPTER 15
2199 Words
I barely slept that night.
Susan’s words kept replaying in my head like some broken record I couldn’t shut off.
He may have plans for you… maybe making you a slave… or ending your life for good.
It was like every corner of the room suddenly grew shadows. Every small sound made me sit up straight. Every second felt like it was leading to something worse.
By morning, my body felt weak—like fear had drained every bit of energy out of me. I sat beside the window, hugging my knees, breathing slowly just to keep myself from shaking. Outside, the world looked so normal. Birds hopping on the sill. Leaves swaying. Sunlight hitting the grass in that warm, soft way that always used to calm me.
But right now, even sunlight couldn’t save me.
Then I heard footsteps.
Not Susan’s. Hers were soft and slightly quick. These were heavy, steady, slow—like the steps of someone who never rushed because they didn’t need to.
The door unlocked.
I froze. Literally couldn’t breathe.
When it opened, there he was.
Mr. Darious Manriquiz.
He didn’t come in slowly or dramatically. He just stepped inside like he owned not just the room but every breath inside it. He shut the door behind him, clicked the lock, and stared at me like he was analyzing something fragile and dangerous at the same time.
I hated how my body reacted—tensing, shrinking back, heart pounding. Like it already recognized him as someone who could hurt me without even raising a hand.
He walked closer. Each step sounded too loud in the quiet room.
“You didn’t eat again,” he said. His tone was so casual it made everything worse. Like he wasn’t the one who locked me in here. Like this was some normal morning conversation.
“I wasn’t hungry,” I murmured.
He hummed, eyes drifting to the untouched tray. “I didn’t ask if you were hungry.”
My chest tightened. He always talked like that—like everything was an order and even my appetite needed his approval.
“I talked to Susan,” I blurted out, before I could think. “She said… she said you have plans for me.”
His jaw ticked—just a small movement, but enough to send a wave of panic through me. Because it meant he didn’t like what I said.
“And what did she tell you?” he asked quietly.
“That you might… that you might hurt me. Or keep me here forever. Or worse.”
His expression didn’t change, but something dark flickered in his eyes.
“So she’s been talking,” he said softly.
I swallowed. “Is it true? Are you going to… do something to me?”
He looked at me for a long second before turning away, walking toward the window. He stood there, staring out like he needed a moment to think, hands clasped behind his back.
“When someone ruins your life,” he said finally, “you don’t just forget it. You don’t forgive it. You don’t move on like nothing happened.”
“I didn’t ruin—”
He cut me off sharply. “You did.”
His voice hit me like a slap.
“You took everything that mattered. You destroyed plans years in the making. You brought chaos into a life that was built on precision.” He turned back to me slowly. “So tell me, Callie… what punishment do you think fits that?”
My breath caught in my throat. “I-I don’t know.”
“Exactly,” he murmured. “You don’t know anything.”
He started walking toward me again. I instinctively backed up until my back hit the wall.
He stopped right in front of me, careful but close—close enough to make me feel trapped even though he wasn’t touching me.
“Do you think I’ll kill you?” he asked calmly.
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t.
He tilted his head slightly. “Do you think I’ll make you suffer? Make you pay slowly?” His voice was too soft for the weight of his words. “Or maybe you think I’ll keep you here forever. Hidden. Silent. Forgotten.”
Tears stung my eyes.
“Please,” I whispered. “Please don’t hurt me.”
His eyes softened for a split second—like something inside him faltered. But it vanished almost immediately.
“I won’t kill you,” he said, almost bored. “Not now. Not yet.”
Not yet.
Those words punched the air out of my lungs.
“Then what do you want from me?” I finally asked, my voice shaking.
He crouched down in front of me so we were eye-level. His hand lifted slightly, like he was about to touch my face, but he stopped halfway, fingers hovering inches from my skin.
“I haven’t decided,” he said. “But I will.”
The calmness in his tone was scarier than if he’d yelled at me.
I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to stay steady. “Susan said you might… make me your slave.”
He actually smiled, just a bit—cold and humorless. “You already are, Callie. You just haven’t accepted it yet.”
My stomach twisted. “I’m not—”
“You’re locked in my property. Fed by my people. Watched every hour. Your life exists because I allow it. That’s the definition of ownership.”
“I’m a human,” I said through clenched teeth. “Not something you can keep.”
His expression darkened. “You lost that argument the moment you destroyed mine.”
My hands trembled.
He stood up, towering over me again. “But don’t worry. I’m not done figuring out what to do with you. And until then…” He gestured to the room. “You stay here.”
“Until when?” I asked.
“A century,” he replied flatly. “If I must.”
My voice cracked. “You can’t do that.”
“I already am.”
Silence filled the room like fog.
He walked toward the door, hand on the knob, but paused without turning around.
“And Callie,” he added quietly, “you’d do well not to listen to rumors. Especially from maids who talk too much.”
Then the door shut behind him.
The lock clicked.
And I finally let myself cry—quiet, shaky sobs that I pressed into my knees so no one would hear. Because for the first time since I woke up in this nightmare…
I believed Susan.
I believed every word.
And I finally understood how trapped I truly was.
After he left, I was nothing. I don't even know what to do anymore.
Maybe this is it. That is where my curtains are held down.
I was half-asleep out of nothing but regrets, when I heard wheels squeaking outside my door…again.
At first, I thought it was just Susan bringing breakfast early, so I didn’t move. My head was pounding from crying the whole night, and honestly, I didn’t even have the strength to sit up. I just curled deeper into the thin blanket, wishing I could disappear, wishing the world would stop for a moment and let me breathe.
But then I heard voices.
Not Susan’s gentle voice.
Not Mr. Manriquiz’s cold, heavy tone.
These were… familiar.
My heart almost stopped the moment I heard them talking.
Lexi.
Lexi Bellington.
And the wheels—God. The wheelchair.
My chest tightened so painfully I couldn’t breathe.
“Lexi,” her mother whispered back—the sharp, clipped voice of Mrs. Cherry Bellington— “keep your voice down. Your fiancé’s family doesn’t want any noise in this hallway. You know how sensitive they are right now.”
Sensitive.
To what? That they were hiding me? That I was locked up like an animal three doors away?
I swallowed hard and slowly shifted closer to the door, making as little sound as possible. I sat on the cold floor, pressing my ear lightly against the wood.
Lexi was breathing sharply, like she was angry just by existing. “Mom… if you’re planning to let me see her, I swear I’ll kill her. I mean it. I’ll kill her with my bare hands.”
My stomach dropped.
Mrs. Cherry clicked her tongue. “Stop talking like that. You won’t kill her.”
“I will,” Lexi insisted, voice cracking. “Mom, look at me! LOOK AT ME! I don’t have legs anymore! Do you get that? I’m stuck in this stupid wheelchair! My wedding is gone! My future, my plans, everything—Callie Torres took them all! She deserves to die.”
My throat closed.
Hearing her say my name like that… sobrang sakit. Like every syllable was a blade stabbing into my chest.
Mrs. Cherry moved closer to her; I could almost hear the rustle of her clothes. “Lexi… sweetheart… of course she deserves punishment. But killing her? That’s too easy.”
A pause.
Then another.
Even the hallway went quiet.
“What do you mean… too easy?” Lexi asked slowly.
Mrs. Cherry’s voice sharpened—filled with something terrifyingly calm. “If she dies, then what? In two days, it’s over. Done. She won’t feel anything. She won’t suffer. Is that what you want?”
“M-Mom…” Lexi whispered, voice trembling.
“No,” Mrs. Cherry continued, and I swear, even from behind the door, I felt her smile. “Let her suffer the way you’re suffering—but slowly.”
I covered my mouth with my hand, forcing myself not to gasp.
“She’ll wake up every day feeling hopeless. Worthless. Terrified. She’ll have no control over her life. No freedom. No choices. Every breath she takes will be because we let her.”
Lexi sniffed. “So… what do you want to do to her?”
“We won’t kill her,” Mrs. Cherry said. “We’ll keep her alive… and take everything from her.”
My entire body shrank against the door.
“Make her our tool,” she continued. “Our worker. Our servant. Our slave, if needed.”
Lexi shook, voice barely audible. “A slave?”
“A personal assistant,” Mrs. Cherry corrected mockingly. “You’ll need someone to push your wheelchair, dress you, carry your things, deal with your emotions—every single day. Why not make her do it?”
A choked sob left Lexi. “Mom… I can’t—how—”
“If she wants to live,” Mrs. Cherry said, “she’ll obey. If she wants freedom, she’ll bow. And if she even thinks about fighting back…” Her voice dropped into something ice cold. “Well, we still have her locked here, don’t we? We have all the power.”
A wave of nausea hit me.
This couldn’t be real.
This couldn’t be happening.
“But what if Darious doesn’t agree?” Lexi asked, sniffing.
I felt the tension pause outside.
Mrs. Cherry exhaled sharply. “Darious is angry… but he’s not cruel enough to kill her. He’s confused. Emotional. But me?” Her tone lifted, almost proud. “I’m clearheaded. I know what needs to be done. I’ll talk to him.”
Lexi shook her head weakly. “I don’t want her touching me. I don’t want her anywhere near me.”
“She will be exactly where I tell her to be,” Mrs. Cherry said firmly. “And she’ll do exactly what you say. That is her punishment. Not death. Never death.”
Lexi breathed out shakily. “Won’t people wonder where she is?”
“No one cares,” Mrs. Cherry said. “Her boutique is probably collapsing by now. Rumors are circulating that she ran away after causing trouble with her boyfriend. Everything is falling apart without us needing to do anything.”
My chest tightened to the point I felt dizzy.
My boutique.
My clients.
My staff.
Everything I worked for… fading like smoke.
“Let her stay here,” Mrs. Cherry said slowly, like savoring the plan. “Let her live. Let her see the life she almost had disappear right in front of her. Let her grieve it. Let her break piece by piece.”
Lexi was quiet.
Then she let out a shaky, almost cruel laugh. “Mom… I like that.”
“I thought you would,” Mrs. Cherry replied, satisfied. “Now come. We need to talk to Darious before he does something stupid again.”
They started to move away—slow, squeaky wheels rolling on tile.
I didn’t move.
I didn’t breathe.
I didn’t even blink.
I just stayed there on the floor, hugging myself, trembling so badly my teeth chattered.
Because for the first time since the accident…
since the breakup…
since waking up in this nightmare…
I realized something much scarier:
They weren’t planning to kill me.
They wanted to keep me alive.
To use me.
To own me.
To break me.
And suddenly… death didn’t feel like the worst option anymore.
- Writer
