051

Y/N

"Ahh" Tiny fingers dig in my breast skin "Ouch... Lucas let go honey, please-it's not a toy.""Aish...ah-" As Lucas grins, his tiny teeth clamp on my nipple like a vise.

"Shh, shh, leave it, leave," i try to pry his lips off, but he sucks more, eyes sparkling with mischief.the sensation cruel contrast to the pain and fear swirling inside. Each suckle feels like a blade twisting. I bite back a wince, gently tugging at his lips— He just coos, chomps harder, gums digging in.

"Fuck-" my tears spilling freelyI try again, voice cracking. "L-Lucas— baby, let go. Come on..."His grip tightens, sucks harder-

He became so stubborn in two months.

Two months.

Two fucking months of freedom- breathing without fear, of waking up without his shadow draped over me-all gone.

And now I'm here.

Trapped.

Again.

"AGHH—" Lucas suckles eagerly, my tears dripping on his forehead, mixing with the milk he drinks so greedily.

I squeeze my eyes shut-—but the images won't stop.

Jeon's grip on my waist.

The gun pressed to my head.

Uncle Park's screams.

Bang.

A sob claws up in my throat, tiny fists clenching my shirt fabric.

I wipe my tears. Lucas pauses- his little brows furrowing as he peers at me, milk dribbling down his chin.

"Ma...Mah?" he murmurs, confused.

And that-that wrecks me.

I press him closer.Loud sobs escape me, before I can stop.Rocking us both as silent tears fall.

Because he doesn't know.He'll never know. And that's the cruelest part of all.

I take a shaky breath, wiping the tears away with the backs of my hands.

Room—cold, unfamiliar. His territory. His bed, sheets still rumpled. His scent lingering in air.My grip tighten on Lucas's warm body-—the only warmth in this sterile prison.

The clock on bedside marks in harsh red: 4:50 am.

I lean back.Room quiet, just the distant sound of the men downstairs and loud footsteps.

I wipe away tears, cradling Lucas close. He gurgles against my chest, eyes searching.

The weight of their deaths presses like a tombstone-—Uncle Park.Then Henry—-Just for helping me.Just for showing me kindness.

"They just helped me."

And now they're dead.

Henry's laughter-gone.

Because of me.

I stare at the ceiling, the silence of the room suffocating.

Why them?

Why not me?

I'm the one who ran. I'm the one who dared to defy him. So why he punish everyone else? Why make me watch?

Lucas shifts—tiny fingers curled into fists. Even now, he looks so peaceful-so untouched by the horror of this place.

"Why he can't just kill me?"

The question hangs in air, unanswered.

Because he won't.Because my suffering is his masterpiece.

The door remains untouched from past two hours—no footsteps, no shadow looming in the threshold. Last night, he didn't come.

Or maybe he did and i don't know.

Maybe he's waiting—watching?Suddenly room feels smaller, the walls creeping closer.

This is his room. His bed.

And yet, he left me here alone—-no chains, no locks, no maids hovering?

As if he knows I won't run.

Not again.

Not after what happened to the last people who tried to help me.

Lucas whimpers.

I pull him closer "Shh....sh"

His face scrunching, his warmth the only thing tethering me to sanity.

I press my palms into my eyes until colors burst behind my lids.

Living hell.

That's what this is.

Because death would be mercy. And Jeon doesn't believe in mercy.

A beat.

Seconds pass longer than necessary.

Outside is silent.

Silence presses against my skull like a vise.Every second stretches into an eternity-—every creak of the floorboards, every distant footstep could be him.

Could be the moment he walks in and decides i haven't suffered enough and decides it's time to remind me exactly whom I belong to.

No.

I can't-

I won't let it happen again.

But what the hell can I do?

I scan again, desperation clawing up in throat.

The security is tighter than ever—-thirty guards stationed outside, patrolling the halls, watching every exit.

And this room-—Black walls. oppressive, swallowing any light.

A king-sized bed in center, silk sheets rumpled from where I've been sitting. too soft, too plush, a mockery of comfort.

A huge mirror across from it—-two-way, probably. So he can watch me even when he's not here.

The windows are sealed shut, the balcony doors locked.

And we're on the 25th floor.

Even if I could break the glass-—even if I could somehow slip past the guards-where would I go?

Jump?

A hysterical laugh bubbles up.

I'd splatter on the pavement before I even got the chance to scream.Lucas stirs in my arms, tiny fingers clutching my shirt.

I press a kiss to his forehead.

But—There has to be something.

Anything.

But the truth settles like a shroud:

There's no escape.

Not this time.

And the worst part?

He knows it.

That's why the door isn't locked.

That's why there are no chains.

Because the only cage I need is the one he's built inside my head.

And it's airtight.

I lean back—-Every inch of the bed is saturated with his scent-a mix of leather, cologne, and something darkly familiar.

His musk—-scent-—smoke—liquor—it lingers everywhere. On the pillows. The sheets. The very fabric of the air.

It feels like he's here, hovering just at the edges of my vision-waiting.My skin itches, goosebumps prickling and sweat beading on temple.The taste of him on my tongue—-bitter, strong, like coffee spiked with smoke. My stomach churn-

"Ummhh..mmhh.." Lucas gurgles around my breasts , tugging the other nipple as if he hadn't drink this for decades.

"Shhh, baby.. go easy on mama.." I gently stroke his fuzzy little head.He coos and nuzzles against me, completely oblivious to the panic rising within.

Lucas has no idea. No idea what his father is capable of. He just sees his mother as his source of food and comfort.And I don't know if that's a blessing or a curse.

______________________________________

Click- The door opens-—I whip the duvet around my naked body, heart pounding, the silk cool against my flushed skin.But instead of Jeon, it's just that stern-looking maid.

For a second, I think it's him-my fingers trembling, the maid standing at the threshold.

"Mrs. Jeon can i take your dinner over here?" She asks politely.

I shake my head, voice catching in my throat. "I...I don't want to eat."

For a moment, silence rings out.

Then she sighs."Mrs. Jeon...the boss will be angry if you act up like this..."

My blood boils. Anger snapping in chest. "Are you trying to scare me?"

Her throat bobs."No, Mrs. Jeon. I'm just telling the truth."

"No, you actually try to—"My heart sinks—-the once-stern maid now battered in bruised-marks on her skin.Cuts on her arms.Cuts on her face.I hold Lucas closer."W-What happened to you?"

Her eyes flickered down.no sign of her previous firmness.

A beat.My heart pounded in my chest.

She stares at me, eyes red glossy. "Something you don't want to know."

"Wh-hat do you mean?"

She sighs- shakes her head, expression unreadable.Lucas wriggles, his soft body a stark contrast to the dark bruises marring her pale skin.

"Please—Tell me,"

She sighs, not meeting my gaze anymore."I'm taking your dinner in here."

She turns. I watch her leave—-The door closes quietly with dread.

Her face is a map of fresh bruises, cuts, and old scars-testament to a life filled with violence and fear.

Im frozen on bed—-the walls closing like a vise.

The silence echoes like a void.

Thoughts run wild, racing in circles like a trapped animal.Her words ring like an alarm, her battered body painted in shades of red.

She said I didn't want to know.But, the image of her bruised skin, her defeated expression, it's burned in my mind.

Is it him?Blood turns ice.

Because the answer is obvious.Jeon.It has to be.

And all this is my fault.

Room closes in—-walls creeping closer with every panicked breath. Tears slip down my cheeks.Everyone suffering because of me.Uncle Park...Henry...And now her...All because I dared to escape.

I glance around—I need to do something-—anything—to stop this madness.

But what?Where could I run, hide in this monstrous mansion?

A choking gasp escaped me. I press a hand on my mouth, but the sobs can't stop.

Lucas makes a soft, sleepy whimper.I swallow—

Lucas... my precious Lucas... how will he grow up in this hell?

I gently stroke his head—taking deep breaths to calm my racing thoughts.

Suddenly, the door creaks open— and the maid walks in quietly-a tray of food balanced in her trembling hands.

I quickly wipe my tears, compose myself.

She sets the tray on the bed gently, eyes avoiding mine. The bruises and cuts on her face fresh.

Anger burning inside me.

I can't bear to look at her like this and yet I can't look away.

"Who...who did this to you?"

Her eyes flick towards me, but she quickly looks away. "It's fine, Mrs. Jeon. I'm fine."

"No, it's not fine. You're clearly hurt, and you're here serving me?"

She purses her lips, still avoiding my gaze. "It's part of my job—"

"BEING BEATEN UP IS NOT PART OF YOUR JOB!"

She flinch— leave quickly- Leaving me alone with the tray of foods and my churning thoughts.

Silence. I can't help—as loud sobs escape my lips.

Can't shake the image of her bruised body.The haunted look in her eyes. I slam a fist on the mattress—Lucas flinch, waking with a sleepy cry.

"Shh...sorry, baby""Mamma's just —frustrated," I gently rocking him back to sleep.

Air thick with fear and hopelessness.

The foods seem less and less appealing by the second.

I stare the untouched tray—-steam still curling from the soup, the scent of garlic and ginger doing nothing to settle the nausea twisting in my gut.

Lucas fusses in my arms, his tiny face scrunching. I kiss his forehead, whispering empty comforts-lies that tastes ash on my tongue.

"It's okay, baby—Mama's here."

But it's not okay.

Nothing about this is okay.

Her bruises flash behind my eyelids every time I blink. The way she flinched when I raised my voice-

And the worst part?

She's right.

Jeon will be angry if I don't eat.

Angry enough to take it out on her.

On them.

Or anyone but me—-because my suffering isn't complete unless I have to watch.

My hands shake—I reach for the spoon. The broth is still hot, scalding my tongue,  I force myself to take a sip. It's delicious-rich, savory-but its mud as how it sits in my stomach.

Lucas coos, his little fingers patting my cheek as if to say, "See? Eat, Mama."

I choke down another bite.

Then another.

The door creaks open again—-just a bit-—the maid peers in, her one unswollen eye checking the tray.

I meet her gaze, holding up the half-empty bowl. See? I'm obeying.

Her shoulders sag in relief before she disappears again.

The second the door clicks shut, I slump forward, a sobs tearing my throat.

This is how it works now.

They hurt them to control me.

And it's working.

Because what other choice do I have?

Run again?

And watch another person die for it?

A beat.

Another sob.With choked food and tears.

Lucas tugging at my hair, pulling me back from the edge of panic.

I press my forehead to his, breathing in him—-baby shampoo, milk and something so purely good it makes my chest ache. "I'll protect you."

Even if it kills me. Even if it breaks me.

I lean back.The empty bowl and tray on the edge.

Lucas sleeps soundly against me, tiny breaths warm on my skin.

But my reflection in the mirror?

Shattered.

A ghost of a woman i never used to be-hollow-eyed, trembling, draped in silk like a prize waiting to be claimed.

My fingers curl into fists.

No.

Not again.

Not ever.

"Maybe the Scorpions are involved"Uncle Park's last words slither through mind like a lifeline- "...They are trying to drag you down Jeon."

Scorpions?Scorpions. Right!

And if they want to drag him down...

Then maybe-—just maybe—-they're the key to burning this hellhole to ground.

I'll try—try again...if it'll cost my life then so fucking be it.

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