Chapter 11 – The Surrender Begins

Lina sat still, staring blankly at the flickering candlelight across the dimly lit room.

She had stopped fighting.

She had stopped crying.

She had stopped hoping.

The fake voicemail from her mother echoed in her mind over and over again.

"We hope you find peace, Lina. Please, take care of yourself."

Those words had broken something inside her.

They weren't looking for her.

They had let her go.

And the only person left...

Was him. Ethan.

She felt his presence beside her on the bed, but she didn't flinch this time.

Didn't react when he reached out, brushing his fingers through her hair.

Didn't move away when he leaned in and whispered. "I told you, love. You were always meant to be mine."

Because at this point...

What was the point of resisting anymore?

Ethan studied her broken, empty gaze with quiet satisfaction.

She wasn't fully his yet.

But she was getting there.

And now, it was time to take her one step further into submission.

Slowly, he stood, reaching for the silk robe draped over the chair.

"Come, love," he murmured, offering his hand.

Lina didn't take it. She just stared at the floor, unmoving.

Ethan exhaled, then reached for her himself.

She gasped softly when he lifted her into his arms.

Her weak body barely put up a fight as he carried her through the door and into a luxurious bathroom.

The air was warm, filled with the faint scent of lavender.

A large tub was already filled with steaming water.

Ethan set her down, his fingers trailing down then thin fabric her nightgown.

Lina's breath hitched.

Her numb mind suddenly snapped back to reality.

"Wait-"she whispered.

Ethan didn't.

With a slow, controlled motion, he pulled the nightgown over her head, leaving her on her bra.

Then slowly he removes her pajama, leaving her only in inner garments.

Lina's face flushed, a mix of humiliation and fear creeping in.

She tried to turn away, but his firm grip kept her in place.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of, love," he murmured, titling her chin up. "You belong to me now."

Her body trembled, when he removes remaining clothes, leaving her bare before him, but she didn't fight as he gently guided her into the tub.

She shivered when the warm water surrounded her.

Ethan knelt beside the tub, rolling up his sleeves before reaching for a soft cloth.

Lina gasped quietly when he dipped it into the water and begun washing her himself.

His movements were slow, deliberate, and intimate.

He ran the cloth over her shoulders, her arms, her breast, down her legs, treating her like a fragile doll.

"You don't have to think anymore, love," he whispered. "Let me take care of you."

Lina shut her eyes tightly.

His touch was too much.

Too gentle.

Too possessive.

He was stripping away not just her clothes but her willpower, her resistance.

And the worst part? Her body was starting to crave it.

That night, after Ethan bathed her, dried her, dressed her in soft silk, and tucked her into bed, Lina fell into a deep, restless sleep.

And she dreamed.

Not of home, not of freedom, not of escape.

She dreamed of him. His voice. His hands. His lips ghosting over her skin.

She was letting him touch her. Letting him claim her.

And when she woke up her body was on fire.

Her heart raced wildly in her chest, her breathing unsteady.

For a moment, she forgot where she was.

But then she saw him. Sitting in the chair near the bed, watching her.

Her body went rigid.

His smirk was slow, knowing.

"You were dreaming about me, weren't you?" he murmured.

Lina felt her face flush.

She shook her head quickly. "No."

Ethan chuckled, "Liar."

He stood his movements slow, controlled, and predatory.

When he reached the bed, Lina tried to shrink away but he caught her.

"Don't run," he whispered.

His fingers brushed over her check, down her throat.

"You feel safe with me, don't you?"

Lina's lips trembled.

Her mind screamed no.

But her body?

Her body betrayed her.

Because she didn't push him away.

At the Evans household, the tension was unbearable.

Max sat on the floor of Lina's room, staring at her empty bed.

His little fingers clenched into fists. She wouldn't have left. She wouldn't.

Meanwhile, George Evans paced the living room, frustration boiling under his skin.

"We're going back to the police." He growled.

Alice sat on the couch, her eyes red and tired.

"They won't do anything," she whispered. "They think she left willingly."

George slammed his fist onto the table. "I don't care what they think!"

Max suddenly jumped up. "I checked Lina's room," he said quickly. "Her phone is missing."

George and Alice both turned sharply. "And?" George asked.

If she had taken her phone with her, why did we not hear from her? Alternatively, she could have at least left us a note.

George's expression hardened.

He turned to his wife. "We're not stopping until we find her."

Max nodded.

Because no matter what the police thought he knew his sister was out there.

And he wasn't giving up on her.

Ethan cupped Lina's chin, titling her face up.

"Say it, love," he whispered. "Admit that you need me."

Lina's lips parted slightly, her breath shaky.

She didn't want to say it.

She shouldn't say it.

But she was so tired.

Her voice trembled as she said, "I….I hate you."

Ethan smirked. "No, you don't."

His lips brushed against hers-just a ghost of a touch.

And this time-

Lina didn't stop him.

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