Chapter 152: Free? Not Quite

Emily’s POV

I curled up on the bed, my body trembling as hot tears streamed down my face. Each sob tore through me, sharp and unforgiving, leaving my chest raw and aching. Slowly, I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, holding myself together as if my own embrace could stop me from falling apart.

How did it come to this?

How did I end up back in his hands?

The room felt smaller with every breath, the walls pressing closer as if they wanted to crush me. Silence surrounded me, heavy and mocking. Marco’s voice echoed in my head like a curse.

Your knight in shining armour isn’t coming to save you this time.

A fresh wave of despair hit me, but I forced myself to breathe through it. I couldn’t let him win. I wouldn’t.

No… Emily, breathe. Don’t let Marco break you.

Jason’s face flashed in my mind. Warm eyes. Steady hands. The way he looked at me like I mattered.

He’ll come for me.

He has to.

I clung to that thought like a lifeline, whispering it silently to myself until it almost felt real. Hope was fragile, but it was all I had.

Exhaustion pressed against me. I closed my eyes, desperate for rest, but sleep wasn’t mercy. The darkness behind my eyelids twisted into something cruel.

His face appeared there, too. Marco’s smirk. His cold eyes. His voice wrapped around me like chains. In my dreams, I ran but never escaped, screamed, but no sound came out. Fear followed me no matter how fast I moved.

I woke with a gasp, lungs burning as though I’d been drowning. Sweat clung to my skin, my heart racing wildly. The nightmare lingered, refusing to fade.

I couldn’t sleep again.

Every time I closed my eyes, he was there.

So I stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, trapped between terror and exhaustion. Time lost meaning. Minutes bled into hours. The only thing keeping me anchored was the thought of Jason. The belief that he would find me.

Two days.

Two endless days trapped in this room.

The air felt stale, heavy with hopelessness. The walls were bare, sterile, giving me nothing to focus on except my own spiralling thoughts. Every creak outside the door made my heart leap. Every muffled voice sent panic rushing through me.

Sometimes footsteps stopped outside.

Every time, hope surged.

Every time, disappointment followed.

It was never him.

Still, I waited.

But waiting slowly turned into something else.

A slow, quiet anger built inside me. A realisation sharpened in the silence.

No one was coming.

And if I wanted to survive… I had to save myself.

The thought ignited something fierce inside me, something stubborn and wild. I started watching. Listening. Learning the patterns.

The maid came at the same time every day, carrying my lunch. Quiet, nervous, never meeting my eyes.

Today would be different.

I waited near the door, heart pounding so hard I thought it might give me away. My hands shook, but my resolve didn’t.

The lock clicked.

The door opened.

I moved before fear could stop me.

Grabbing the vase from the table, I swung with all the strength I had left. The edge connected with the side of her head. She gasped softly, eyes wide with shock, before collapsing to the floor.

For a second, I froze, horror flashing through me.

I didn’t want to hurt her.

But I didn’t have a choice.

I dropped to my knees, fumbling with the keys clipped to her waist. My fingers trembled violently, but adrenaline pushed me forward.

Got them.

I ran.

Bare feet slapped against the cold floor as I bolted down the hallway. Pain shot through my legs, but I barely felt it. Freedom was ahead. I could almost taste it.

The corridor stretched endlessly, dim and silent. Hope surged inside me.

Maybe I could do it.

Maybe I could actually escape.

I turned the corner—

And slammed into something solid.

Strong hands grabbed my arms before I could fall.

My blood turned to ice.

Marco.

He looked down at me, amusement flickering across his face.

“Going somewhere, my love?” he asked softly.

Terror exploded inside me. I fought instantly, kicking, shoving, desperate to break free.

“No! Let me go!”

He didn’t even struggle.

With effortless strength, he hoisted me over his shoulder. The world tilted as I screamed and pounded my fists against his back.

He kept walking.

Unbothered.

“You never learn,” he muttered coldly. “You should’ve stayed put.”

Every step he took crushed the fragile hope I’d held onto. The hallway that had felt like freedom moments ago now felt like a long walk back into hell.

He pushed the door open and carried me inside.

Then he threw me onto the bed.

The impact knocked the air from my lungs. I scrambled backwards, but there was nowhere to go. Marco loomed over me, calm and controlled, his presence suffocating.

He watched me silently for a moment, that cruel smile playing on his lips.

“You should’ve known better,” he said. “You’ll never get away from me, Emily.”

Rage flared through my fear.

“I hate you,” I spat.

His smile widened.

“That’s fine,” he said lightly. “I’ll make you love me again. Just like before.”

The words chilled me more than any threat. He believed it. He truly believed he could twist me back into something I wasn’t.

My chest tightened with dread.

Without warning, Marco clapped his hands.

The door opened again.

A maid stepped inside carrying a delicate yellow dress. It shimmered softly, beautiful and elegant, like something meant for a celebration.

It felt like a cage.

“I’m hosting a dinner party in your honour,” Marco announced smoothly. “I want everyone to see that you’re mine. You will wear this tonight.”

The maid placed the dress on the chair, eyes lowered, then quickly left after a small nod from him.

The room fell silent again.

Marco stepped closer.

“The maid will return at seven,” he said calmly. “She’ll get you ready.”

He paused, studying me with cold satisfaction.

Then, before I could move, he leaned down and kissed me softly.

The touch made my stomach twist. It felt wrong. Empty. Possessive.

I pulled away, disgust burning through me.

He only smiled.

“And don’t try to escape again,” he whispered darkly. “Because you can’t.”

The words settled over me like chains.

He turned and walked out, closing the door behind him with quiet finality.

Silence swallowed the room again.

I stared at the yellow dress across from me, my hands trembling.

Fear curled inside me, but beneath it… something else flickered.

Defiance.

Because even if he believed he owned me, even if he thought he had already won… he was wrong.

And somewhere deep inside, I knew this wasn’t over yet.