When Elena opened her eyes, the room was quiet. For a lingering moment, she lay entirely motionless beneath the heavy silk sheets, watching the morning light filter through the towering curtains, painting the bedroom in pale gold. The mattress beneath her was impossibly warm, plush, and comfortable — so luxurious that for a few fleeting seconds, her mind drifted, almost forgetting the wreckage of the day before.
Then the memories rushed back like an ice-cold wave.
The poison. The ruined wedding. Adrian's mocking smile. The plunge off the rain-slicked cliff. The dangerous, possessive stranger who insisted on calling her Sarah.
Elena slowly pushed herself up against the headboard, a dull ache radiating through her bones, though the sting was less intense than the night before. Nothing in the room belonged to her. Not the furniture, not the light, not the silence.
This was not her home. And the man who had brought her here was holding a phantom captive.
Suddenly, her stomach growled, a sharp, hollow pang that made her blink in surprise. Only then did she realize just how starved her body was; she hadn't eaten a single bite since before she'd been drugged at her own wedding.
Slowly, she slid off the edge of the mattress and stood, the thick carpet yielding warmly beneath her bare feet. She walked toward the massive wooden door, her steps slow but steady. Maybe the kitchen was downstairs. A desperate need for a moment of normalcy guided her hand toward the polished brass handle.
She turned it. Nothing happened.
Elena frowned, a small prickle of sweat breaking out on the back of her neck. She gripped the handle harder, twisting it with more force. The mechanism refused to budge.
Her heart skipped a violent beat. Someone had locked it from the outside.
She stared at the wood, paralyzed as confusion morphed into a creeping, icy dread. Why would the door be locked? Her fingers tightened around the metal, rattling it. Still, it wouldn't move.
Then, like a whisper from a nightmare, Luca's parting words from the hospital echoed in her mind: If you try to run away again... I will lock you up.
No. He couldn't have been serious. It had to be a mistake. She knocked lightly against the wood, straining for footsteps. No response. She knocked again, harder, the thuds echoing hollowly into the hallway. Still nothing.
Panic exploded inside her chest. Before she could think, her fists began banging against the heavy wood, striking the surface again and again. Let me out. Let me out.
But no sound passed her lips. Only the dull, rhythmic thuds of her hands against the barrier filled the room. Her breathing grew faster, more manic, the walls pressing closer with every second.
Then the trauma broke through.
Darkness.
Concrete beneath her knees.
A bolt sliding into place.
Stay there until you learn.
Small fists pounding on wood.
No one came.
The luxury bedroom was gone. She was back in the closet.
With a silent, feral scream, Elena turned and grabbed a heavy crystal lamp from the bedside table, hurling it across the room with wild strength.
CRASH.