All these years, Conrad had kept that sentence in his mind.
If you love something, you get it.
But that was where it ended.
He would never allow something or someone to affect him, not for long.
But with Lillian, he made far too many exceptions.
His reason told him to kill her.
His pain, all his troubles, would end right there.
He wouldn’t have to wake up in the middle of the night wondering where she was.
He wouldn’t have to lie awake every night, restless, thinking about why she left.
He wouldn’t have to stare at his phone, waiting for even the smallest sign of her.
He wouldn’t have to see her everywhere in the house, in the things she left behind.
Killing her would solve everything.
In his mind, his grandfather’s voice overlapped with his childhood memories.
But instead of following through, he reached out and yanked the handcuffs on her wrist, pulling her closer.
Lillian lost her balance and fell forward, her hand landing on his knee, her eyes level with his.
Conrad’s eyes were incredibly blue, almost unnaturally so, yet they gleamed with a sharpness that revealed little of what he was thinking.
That absolute blue meant no one could ever truly know what went on in his mind.
Conrad’s large hand tightened around her slender neck, and the next moment, his tongue lightly traced her throat.
The warmth of his tongue made Lillian shudder involuntarily.
She’d rather he do something else than torment her like this, slowly and relentlessly.
“If you want to have sex with me, then just do it. Stop playing these games,” she muttered impatiently.
Conrad’s movements paused for a moment, and his mind cleared slightly.
“You’re right. I’ve got to take back what’s mine from these past few days.”
His fingers grazed her loose, oversized T-shirt, the one she had hastily put on when she escaped.
It was soaked in sweat, her bra clinging tightly to her proud figure.
This was how she had been protecting herself in this run-down, cramped building.
Conrad gripped her chin, “Maybe it’s your face that fooled me.”
Fooled me into letting my guard down, while you only wanted to leave me.
To abandon me.
To throw me away.
You’ve pushed me to a point where I can’t recover from. Why should you escape unscathed?
Lillian’s wrists were suddenly twisted, and she was forced into a humiliating position, pressed against the couch. Her hips raised, her wrists handcuffed, leaving her no choice but to hold herself up.
Her clothes were soon moved, giving him easy access to take full advantage of her.
That sensation, skin against skin, sweat mixing between them, repeated itself in the same way as before.
The old tiled floor and the worn-out couch creaked loudly under him, the springs making a noise that was far too erotic. It felt like the couch would fall apart at any moment.
Sweat dripped from her nose to the floor, and her fingers dug into the pillowcase beneath her, her grip so tight it almost turned her knuckles white.
She had played this game with Conrad countless times.
Her mind fought to resist, but her body kept sinking deeper.
Her wig fell off due to their rough movements.
His voice came from behind her.
“Look at you now, so pathetic and ridiculous. And we’re the same.”
He couldn’t tell whether he was mocking her or mocking himself.
The bathroom was small, but it still had an old bathtub that hadn’t been used in years. Lillian disliked it, and since she never used it, it became just another part of the sex.
It could be said that she had grown too lazy to even consider going to any of the temporary places she had stayed before. Conrad, however, inspected every inch of his territory, making sure to thoroughly check it. For instance, while holding her, he would open the wardrobe and scan for any signs of other men’s clothes. If he found none, he’d be in a good mood and move on to the next place.
Lillian felt herself on the verge of passing out from hunger, but when she woke, he was still on top of her. Her numbed nerves were repeatedly tested. It seemed like from the moment she came back, the usual noise of the building had faded, leaving only the sounds of the bed creaking beneath her as Conrad’s strong figure moved in the fading sunlight, casting long shadows across the old floorboards.
“I really like the way you look at times like this.”
“You’re under my control, and all you can see is me.”
Conrad, half-mad, murmured to himself, needing no answer from her.
At some point, all their clothes had disappeared, the handcuffs gone too. Yet, even so, Lillian found herself ironically cooperating out of habit, unable to tame her own body. It was a frustrating feeling of powerlessness.
But Conrad could do it.
She knew it was a slow, painful torment, but she tried her best to find some joy in it. Because, in a way, she was pleased too.
She refused to let herself be held hostage by this muddled, emotional state anymore. She had to reverse the situation in her mind. She silently and quietly resisted, all of it visible in her eyes.
Her stubborn gaze seemed like it would never bow to him, never submit. It made him feel…
It wasn’t this woman, trapped by him, who was weak.
It was him, the one who craved her to be the same as she once was.
He found it laughable: he was desperately seeking a return to a past that could never come again.
…
“That woman next door didn’t get screwed to death, did she?”
“You still dare talk bad about her? My face still hurts.”
The group of men didn’t leave, and none of them dared to go outside. They were too hungry to order food.
But they waited until it got dark, and the sounds of sex from that room never stopped.
“Something bad happened, didn’t it?”
“It’s not been that long.”
Luxury cars, bodyguards, and top-quality ingredients were brought into the room.
She watched as they brought in wine that could buy the entire apartment, casually pulling at a rose petal, and chewing it lightly.
But before she knew it, Conrad had taken it from her lips.
What a detestable man.
Lillian had no idea how long she’d been in that room. Every time she needed to use the bathroom, Conrad carried her.
Under his constant surveillance, all her shame had evaporated completely.
Her thoughts started to blur, and she began losing track of time. From the first day, when she recognized the light coming through the blinds, to being pulled deeper into the whirlpool.
Meals were brought to her every day, fresh and safe. They were better than anything she’d ever had in this place.
She didn’t know how long Conrad planned to stay here, or why he seemed so obsessed with wasting time in this small room with her.
One afternoon, after they had finished making love, she noticed that his phone calls had become more frequent.
That was when she saw her chance to escape.
He had Brown Family Group, he had Brown family.
That meant she wouldn’t be his everything, and he wouldn’t waste any more of his time on her.
She focused on eating every meal, trying to keep up her strength.
When Andrew saw her again, he immediately averted his gaze.
She exuded a lazy, seductive air, her eyes half-lidded with exhaustion that somehow added to her unconscious allure.
Her thin nightgown outlined her curves as she sat in Conrad’s lap. Andrew, clearly sensing something ominous, couldn’t shake his bad premonition.