Loraine thought the worst part of the night in the locked room was over.
She was wrong.
The days that followed were strangely quiet. Jason hovered around her like a shadow stitched to her feet—too attentive, too careful. He watched her eat. Watched her sleep. Watched the way her eyes no longer met his for long.
He bought her gifts again. Dresses. Jewelry. Flowers that filled the rooms with a scent she now hated.
"Smile for me," he would say softly.
"Talk to me."
"Don't look at me like I've already lost you."
She tried. She really did.
But something inside her had shifted.
The Call
It happened on a quiet afternoon.
Jason was in his study. The guards were outside. For the first time in days, she felt alone enough to breathe. She found her old phone hidden at the bottom of a drawer—one she thought he had taken away.
Her hands shook as she turned it on.
One missed call.
One name.
Ethan.
Her heart stopped.
Ethan—her past. Her before. Someone who had known her when her life was small, simple, and free. Someone who had loved her without walls, guards, or promises whispered like threats.
She didn't call back.
She just stared at the name.
That was enough.
Jason Sees
Jason stood in the doorway.
She didn't hear him enter.
"What are you holding?" he asked quietly.
Her blood turned to ice.
She turned slowly, the phone still in her hand.
"It's nothing," she said too fast.
Jason walked toward her, each step measured, controlled. "Give it to me."
She hesitated.
That hesitation cost her.
He snatched the phone from her hand and looked at the screen.
The name.
Ethan.
Jason's jaw clenched so tightly she thought his teeth would shatter.
"Who," he asked softly, "is Ethan?"
Her voice trembled. "A… a friend. From before. It means nothing."
Jason laughed—a short, sharp sound that made her flinch.
"You lie so badly," he said.
Before she could react, his hand came out of nowhere.
The slap echoed through the room.
She staggered back, shock flooding her face more than pain. Her hand flew to her cheek as she stared at him, eyes wide, uncomprehending.
Jason froze.
His breath hitched.
"I—" He stepped back. "I didn't mean—mine, I didn't mean to—"
She whispered, broken, "You hit me."
His face twisted. "I made a mistake," he said quickly. "You pushed me. I just—seeing his name on your phone—"
"I wasn't cheating," she cried. "I wasn't doing anything!"
He grabbed her arms, gripping too tight. "Then why was he calling you?"
"I don't know!"
"You don't lie to me!" he shouted, shaking her once before catching himself. He released her suddenly, running his hands through his hair like a man unraveling. "I won't do this again. I swear. I swear it was a mistake. Don't look at me like that."
She backed away.
For the first time, she didn't believe him.
The Locked Room Breathes
That night, she couldn't sleep.
The house felt wrong—alive, watching.
She wandered the hallway, barefoot, heart pounding, until she found herself standing in front of the locked door again.
The same door.
The one he had warned her about.
She placed her hand on it.
Something moved inside.
Not a sound—more like a pressure. Like the room itself was breathing.
Her stomach twisted.
Suddenly—
"Get away from that door."
Jason's voice cut through the dark.
She screamed.
He was behind her, eyes wild, face pale. He crossed the distance in seconds and slammed his hand against the door beside her head.
"I told you," he said dangerously, "never to touch this."
"What's in there?" she cried. "Why are you so afraid of it?"
His chest rose and fell violently. For a moment, she thought he might hit her again.
Instead, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her away.
"You don't get to ask questions anymore," he said coldly. "Not after today."
Violence Without Touch
The next morning, she tried to leave her room.
The door wouldn't open.
She banged on it. "Jason!"
No answer.
Food came once. Late. Cold.
When he finally appeared, his eyes were darker than she'd ever seen them.
"You contacted your past," he said calmly. "So now I remind you of your present."
He slammed the door shut again.
Locked.
Her knees buckled.
She slid to the floor, sobbing.
"I didn't do anything," she whispered to the empty room.
On the other side, Jason leaned against the door, fists clenched, breathing hard.
"I'm doing this because I love you," he murmured. "Because I won't let you leave me. Not for him. Not for anyone."
Questions That Won't Stay Silent
Who is Ethan—and will he come looking for her?
What is inside the locked room that terrifies Jason this much?
How far will Jason go to erase her past?
And if love keeps turning into violence…
how long before there is no way out?