Chapter 62: FIRST DAY CAPTIVE

MIA

The first morning in this room felt like waking up inside a nightmare that refused to end. I never thought about how much I liked the sunlight until now.

I'd barely slept, curled on the edge of the bed with my back to the door, every muscle aching from hours of silent crying. My throat was raw from screaming the night before. When I finally dragged myself upright, reality hit me again like a fresh punch.

The biometric lock mocked me as I stared at it. I sat there, knees drawn to my chest as I stared at the camera in the corner. The thought of him watching me made my skin crawl and feel alight at the same time.

I stared at it for God knows how long and then I heard the lock suddenly beep which made me flinch and then the door opened and Dante walked in carrying a tray, looking every bit the devoted partner — fresh shirt, dark hair perfectly tousled, that warm smile on his face like this was any other morning in the apartment.

"Good morning, cara," he said cheerfully, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The locks re-engaged automatically. "Did you sleep well?"

I turned my face away, staring at the bookshelf instead. The silence stretched between us. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of my voice.

He set the tray on the small table near the bed and it had fresh fruits, yogurt, scrambled eggs with herbs, toast and coffee, just the way I liked it.

The smell made my stomach twist with hunger and nausea at the same time. All the screaming had worn me out but the thought of eating in this situation made me feel like I was accepting this reality.

"I brought your favorites. You need to eat, Mia. Keeping your strength up is very important."

I didn't move or look at him.

He sighed softly but not in anger, just… patient which irritated me because I wanted some sort of reaction from him at least.

He sat on the edge of the bed, close enough that I could feel the heat rolling off him. "I know you are angry, Mia. And that is okay because I can wait for as long as it takes you to understand. This isn't easy for either of us but it is necessary."

I almost laughed when he said "for both of us" because I wondered what made this hard for him when this entire situation benefited him and he wasn't the one locked up.

I tried to hold it back but couldn't as I scoffed. "You say hard for you as if you are the one who was just kidnapped."

My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper and my throat hurt slightly as I spoke. I finally met his eyes. Those dark, intense eyes that used to make me feel safe now filled me with dread.

He sighed again. "I thought we would have moved past this by now."

The audacity!

"Just cut it out!" My hands clenched the sheets. "Let me out, Dante. Please. This isn't you. This isn't us."

"Not yet." He said gently, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, making me jerk back. "I got word that Lin's family have also been circling around the apartment so I am not willing to take any risks as I handle them. You just have to stay here for a little while with me."

He paused, looking at me for a moment. I wasn't sure what he was searching for when he looked at me. "I'll be back later. Try to eat something. The books are yours — which reminds me. Your camera is on the shelf. I thought you might want to document this new chapter."

Before I could say anything, he got up and left, sealing the door behind him and I was left alone again.

For the next hour, I tore the room apart in a frantic search for any weakness. I ran my hands over every inch of the walls but they were smooth, padded and unyielding. There weren't any vents large enough to crawl through because they were all small, gated and placed too high for me to even reach.

Even the bathroom just had an exhaust fan instead of a window. The kitchenette drawers were filled with plastic utensils which weren't sharp and couldn't be used for anything.

No matter how much I tried to fiddle with the lock, it stayed dark and lifeless under my palm. I even tried to desperately pry it open with a spoon but the spoon ended up breaking.

There was no way to escape. I was buried in the basement of the building I used to walk through freely.

I screamed anyway. "Help! Someone help me! Please!" I pounded on the door until my fists bruised, my voice cracking but nothing.

I slumped to the floor in exhaustion and had another crying episode.

The hours dragged. I flipped through the books without reading, picked up my camera only to set it down again. Document this? The idea made me sick. I paced the fifteen-by-twenty feet until my legs burned, then curled up on the bed, replaying every sweet moment from the night before because I couldn't do anything else but delude myself.

By evening — I think — the lock beeped again. Dante returned with another tray this time with grilled salmon, vegetables, rice and a glass of wine. He looked concerned but still calm.

"You didn't eat breakfast," he observed, setting the tray down. "You must be hungry."

I sat up, arms crossed, glaring at him with every ounce of defiance I had left. "I'd rather starve."

He chuckled softly, not mocking, just… amused.

He pulled a chair close to the bed and sat, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "No, you wouldn't. But I admire your spirit, Mia. It's one of the things I love most about you."

I stayed silent, but he continued like we were having a normal conversation.

"Let me explain something. I've been watching you for months so I know you better than anyone. I know you're strong, stubborn and proud. But I also know you're practical. You'll eat because starving hurts and accomplishes nothing. You'll accept this because you have no choice. And eventually, you'll even thank me for it."

The way he spoke with confidence sent a chill down my spine.

"YOU are deranged."