The ghost of his grip still lingered on my wrist.

  Even though Kevin had let go minutes ago—the weight of it stayed.

  Maybe it wasn’t the pressure of his fingers that unsettled me.

  Maybe it was the realization that he never needed to hold on too tightly.

  Because I had nowhere else to go.

  The car slowed to a smooth stop, rolling into the underground parking garage of a towering skyscraper in the heart of the city. The entire space was nearly empty, dimly lit by overhead fluorescents that cast long, sharp shadows against the polished concrete.

  Kevin stepped out first, his movements fluid—controlled.

  Not once did he look back at me.

  He didn’t have to.

  I hesitated.

  A second too long.

  He noticed.

  His hand curled over the car door, his gaze flicking toward me with unreadable patience.

  "Out."

  It wasn’t a command.

  It wasn’t a request, either.

  It was an expectation.

  I swallowed hard and pushed the door open, stepping out onto the cold pavement.

  My legs should’ve felt free.

  But the second the elevator doors slid shut behind me, I realized—

  I wasn’t free at all.

  The doors opened into another world.

  A penthouse.

  Spacious, sleek, untouched by warmth.

  The entire space was drowned in hues of bck, charcoal, and deep navy. A wall of floor-to-ceiling windows stretched across the far side, overlooking the glimmering city skyline.

  The view should’ve made me feel bigger.

  But all I felt was small.

  "Move."

  His voice came from ahead.

  I forced my feet forward, trailing behind him as he strode through the open-concept living space.

  To the left—a door.

  It stood there, untouched. Unwelcoming.

  His room.

  I could tell instantly.

  Something about it felt silent in a way that wasn’t just sound.

  Like no one else had ever stepped inside.

  Then, before I could register it—

  "This one."

  He pushed open another door.

  The guest room.

  At least, that’s what I assumed it was.

  Except it was too complete. Too prepared.

  Like it was always meant for someone.

  Like it was always meant for me.

  "You're staying here."

  I froze. "...What?"

  "You don't leave until I say so."

  Ft. Unbothered.

  Like it was the simplest thing in the world.

  Like I wasn’t part of this decision at all.

  "You’re joking," I muttered, voice tight.

  "I don’t joke."

  My fingers curled into fists. Heat rose in my chest—boiling.

  I was being locked away. Again.

  "How long?" I demanded.

  "Until things are handled."

  "What things?"

  His eyes flicked toward me zily.

  "Things you don’t need to know."

  My breath hitched.

  Not fear.

  Frustration.

  "So I don’t get a choice?" My voice came out sharper than I intended.

  Kevin tilted his head slightly. Slow. Measuring.

  "Do you have anywhere else to go?"

  That—

  That shut me up.

  For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

  A sharp chime shattered the silence.

  My phone.

  I scrambled to pull it out, but before I could—

  Kevin took it from my hands.

  "Hey!" I lunged forward, trying to snatch it back.

  He barely moved. Just gnced at the screen.

  And sighed.

  "Someone’s looking for you."

  Before I could process his words—

  He turned to the window.

  And tossed the phone.

  Out.

  The.

  F*cking.

  Window.

  I didn’t even hear it nd.

  "KEVIN!" My voice snapped through the room as I surged forward, but it was already too te.

  Gone.

  "You don’t need it anymore."

  He said it like he was discussing the weather.

  I couldn’t even speak for a second. My hands shook at my sides, fury tangling with disbelief.

  "What the hell did you just do?!"

  "Helped you."

  "HELPED ME?!" My voice pitched. "You just threw my goddamn phone off a building!"

  Kevin met my gre without a flicker of guilt. "You’ll get a new one tomorrow."

  I let out a sharp, breathless ugh. "Oh, great. Do I get to pick it, or is it just another leash for you to track me with?"

  For the first time—

  Kevin smiled.

  It was faint. Barely there.

  But it wasn’t kind.

  "You catch on quick."

  I wanted to throw something at him.

  Anything.

  Instead, I exhaled hard, forcing the anger down.

  "How long are you going to keep me here?"

  Kevin studied me for a second.

  Then, as if making a casual observation, he murmured—

  "You think you haven’t seen anything."

  The words nded wrong.

  Like a hook catching in my ribs.

  "...What?"

  Kevin’s gaze was steady. "You think you only saved me that night. That you only saw what you remember."

  I stared at him.

  Because that was true.

  Wasn’t it?

  I remembered the blood. The wound. The cold precision in his voice.

  But…

  Was that all?

  Kevin’s head tilted slightly, his voice a quiet hum of amusement.

  "You saw something important."

  A chill slid down my spine.

  My hands had been cold before.

  Now, they felt numb.

  Kevin didn’t eborate.

  He didn’t need to.

  Because suddenly—

  I wasn’t so sure anymore.

  I wasn’t sure what I had seen.

  What I had missed.

  Or what I had let myself forget.

  Kevin turned away, stepping toward the door.

  Without looking back, he spoke one st time.

  "You’ll remember soon enough."

  Then—

  The door clicked shut.

  I turned instantly, lunging for the handle.

  I twisted—

  Locked.

  Of course.

  I let out a shaky breath.

  Turning, my gaze drifted toward the floor-to-ceiling windows.

  The skyline stretched out before me, endless and vast.

  It should’ve made me feel free.

  Instead—

  I had never felt more trapped.

  I woke to soft, golden sunlight bleeding through cream-colored curtains.

  But even with daylight spilling across the polished wooden floor—

  This room still felt dark.

  Heavy. Stifling. Like the walls were closing in.

  I sat up slowly, my body stiff from exhaustion I didn’t remember falling into.

  Last night, I was with my friends.

  I was walking back to my dorm.

  Now—

  Now I was here.

  Trapped.

  In a prison disguised as luxury.

  I exhaled shakily, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. My fingers instinctively reached toward the nightstand—toward my phone.

  Except—

  It wasn’t there.

  Because I didn’t have one anymore.

  I swallowed hard.

  No one could call me.

  No one knew where I was.

  My heart kicked against my ribs, my chest tightening with something sharp—something too close to panic.

  Stop.

  I forced a slow breath through my nose, shaking off the rising tension.

  Find a way out.

  I moved quickly.

  Door—locked.

  Not surprising.

  Windows— I rushed toward them, pressing my palm against the cool gss.

  Also locked.

  Balcony?

  I tried the handle.

  Locked.

  Every single exit—secured.

  Tightly.

  Like they already knew I would try to leave.

  A shiver curled down my spine.

  I clenched my hands into fists, forcing my breathing to steady.

  Think, Psyche.

  I turned, scanning the room—searching for anything useful.

  My gaze swept across the navy-colored armchair. The sleek, modern bookshelves. The king-sized bed that was too comfortable for a hostage situation.

  And then—

  I saw it.

  A small bck box.

  Neatly pced at the far end of the bookshelf.

  Too neat.

  Too obvious.

  My pulse quickened.

  It wasn’t there before.

  Kevin left it for me.

  I knew that much.

  But why?

  My stomach twisted. My mind whispered at me to leave it alone.

  But my fingers were already reaching for it.

  I hesitated—one breath, two.

  Then I flipped it open.

  Inside—

  A phone.

  Brand new.

  Sleek. Silver.

  Waiting.

  I didn’t trust it.

  But I picked it up anyway.

  The second the screen lit up—

  TING!

  I flinched, nearly dropping it.

  A message.

  From him.

  Kevin: I knew you’d find it.

  My breath hitched.

  My grip tightened around the phone.

  TING!

  Another message.

  Kevin: Satisfied?

  A sharp shiver coiled at the base of my spine.

  I turned my head slowly, scanning the room.

  It felt different now.

  Like someone was watching.

  Even though I knew—

  Kevin wasn’t here.

  I clenched my jaw, gripping the phone too hard.

  I hated this.

  I hated that he knew what I would do before I even did it.

  Like he was controlling my every move.

  Like I was just another piece on his chessboard.

  I exhaled sharply through my nose, thumb hovering over the keyboard.

  Then—

  I typed.

  Me: How long are you pnning to keep me here?Me: Or do you just enjoy pying god?

  I hit send.

  Then threw the phone onto the bed.

  Like that would stop it.

  Like that would stop him.

  It wouldn’t.

  Because I already knew.

  He was still the one pulling the strings.

  (POV: Kevin)Psyche: How long are you pnning to keep me here?Psyche: Or do you just enjoy pying god?

  Kevin stared at the message for half a second, Then he sighed. Like he had already expected it.

  He closed it.

  Unopened.

  Unread.

  Instead, he took another slow drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke curl zily in the cold air of the basement.

  The kind of fear that sinks into the bones.

  The kind that doesn’t go away.

  A single, dim light buzzed overhead, casting flickering shadows against the cold cement walls.

  The man tied to the chair was barely holding himself up.

  His wrists, raw and bruised, strained against the ropes biting into his skin. His breathing was ragged—shallow.

  He wouldn’t st much longer.

  Kevin exhaled slowly, tapping the end of his cigarette against a rusted metal tray. Ash crumbled into the darkness below.

  "You’re running out of time."

  His voice was even. Unhurried. Casual.

  The man shuddered, but he still didn’t speak.

  Interesting.

  Most broke before this.

  Kevin studied him for a moment, then leaned forward—slow, deliberate.

  "Who sent you?"

  Silence.

  A bead of sweat slid down the man’s temple.

  He was weighing his options.

  Trying to decide whether it was worth lying.

  Kevin sighed.

  Then pressed the lit cigarette against the man’s exposed wrist.

  Sssssss.

  A sickening sizzle filled the air—followed by a strangled scream.

  The scent of burning flesh curled into Kevin’s lungs.

  He barely blinked.

  The man convulsed violently, his body jerking against the chair. But the ropes held firm.

  Kevin watched—detached.

  Then, after a moment, he removed the cigarette.

  The wound blistered instantly—skin charred bck around the edges. The man whimpered, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

  Kevin flicked the cigarette away. It nded with a quiet hiss against the damp concrete.

  "Wrong answer."

  A faint metallic scrape echoed through the basement as Kevin reached for something on the nearby table.

  The man froze.

  His entire body went rigid.

  Kevin smirked.

  Good.

  He should be scared.

  The steel of the pliers was ice-cold against Kevin’s fingers as he turned them over—inspecting.

  Then—without warning—he grabbed the man’s hand.

  And squeezed.

  Hard.

  Bone shifted beneath his grip. The man let out a breathless sob, his fingers twitching involuntarily.

  Kevin lifted the pliers slowly.

  Letting him see it.

  Letting him understand.

  "I’ll ask one more time."

  He tilted his head slightly, voice deceptively soft.

  "Who sent you after her?"

  The man gasped for air, panic flooding his bloodshot eyes.

  "I—I don’t—"

  Kevin didn’t wait.

  CRACK.

  The scream that tore from the man’s throat was inhuman.

  The pliers twisted brutally, snapping the first joint of his pinky finger out of pce.

  His body seized violently, his head snapping back as the agony swallowed him whole.

  Kevin let him ride the pain for a second.

  Then—

  He moved to the next finger.

  Snap.

  Another scream.

  Louder.

  More broken.

  Kevin barely heard it.

  Pain was the fastest way to the truth.

  And right now—

  Kevin had time.

  Snap.

  Snap.

  By the fourth one, the man was sobbing.

  Blood dripped from his ruined fingers, pooling onto the floor.

  Kevin wiped a stray droplet off his sleeve, exhaling lightly.

  He wasn’t impatient.

  He could do this all night.

  But the man couldn’t.

  He was trembling violently now, his entire body wrecked with pain.

  Kevin leaned in, voice barely above a whisper.

  "Who sent you?"

  This time—

  The man broke.

  "A—a mole!" he choked out. "Someone inside Surn! They—They wanted her g-gone before she could t-talk!"

  Kevin’s fingers stilled.

  His expression didn’t change.

  But the temperature in the room dropped.

  "A mole?"

  The man nodded frantically, sobbing.

  "I swear—I don’t know who! They never told me! Please, I told you everything—please—"

  Kevin studied him for a long moment.

  Considering.

  Then—

  Bang.

  A single, suppressed shot.

  The man’s body slumped instantly, blood spttering against the chair.

  Kevin barely looked at him.

  He pulled out his phone, dialing a number as he turned toward the exit.

  The call was picked up immediately.

  "Clean the room in ten."

  He hung up.

  Then stepped out—

  Without looking back.