4.The First Escape

Aira waited until 2:17 AM.

The penthouse was silent except for the hum of the refrigerator and the distant sirens twenty floors below. She'd spent hours memorizing the patterns—the guard change at midnight, the soft click of Ruhan's bedroom door closing at 1:45, the way the motion sensors blinked red for exactly 4.3 seconds between sweeps.

She peeled back the silk sheets (black, like everything else in this damned place) and padded barefoot to the walk-in closet.

*Idiot.*

Ruhan had filled it with clothes in her size—cashmere sweaters, designer jeans, even the exact brand of cotton underwear she preferred. As if luxury could make her forget she was a prisoner. Her fingers brushed against a leather jacket hanging in the back.

Too heavy. Too *his*.

She chose instead a thin black tank top and leggings. Shadow clothes.

The balcony door was her best chance. Ruhan had made a mistake showing it to her during his "tour"—a sliding glass panel with a manual lock, not connected to the smart system that controlled the rest of the penthouse.

Cold night air hit her face as she slipped outside. The city glittered below, beautiful and indifferent.

Aira climbed onto the railing.

*Twenty floors.*

Her bare toes curled against the chilled metal. The wind tugged at her hair, whispering promises of freedom and concrete endings.

Then she saw it—the service ladder on the adjacent building, just six feet away. An impossible gap.

But less impossible than staying.

She jumped.

For one glorious second, she flew.

Then—

Pain. White-hot as her fingers caught the third rung. Her shoulder wrenched violently, but she held on, legs kicking empty air.

Aira didn't allow herself to breathe until both feet were on solid metal.

*Got you.*

She descended fast, the ladder vibrating with each step. Three floors down, a maintenance door led into a dimly lit hallway smelling of bleach and stale coffee.

*Employee stairs. Exit signs. Freedom.*

Her pulse roared in her ears as she pushed through the final fire door—

And straight into a broad chest.

Ruhan's scent enveloped her before she even looked up—sandalwood and something darker, like gunpowder after it's been fired.

"No," she whispered.

He stood motionless in the alleyway, hands in his pockets, as if he'd been waiting for a bus. The streetlight carved shadows under his cheekbones, made his eyes look blacker than the night itself.

"Six minutes and twenty-three seconds," he said. His voice was calm. That was the worst part. "That's how long it took you to disappoint me."

Aira backed up until her spine hit the brick wall. "How—"

"Did I know?" He stepped closer, his polished shoes clicking against pavement. "I own the building you jumped to. I own the security company that monitors it. I *own* the man who installed that ladder in 2017." His smile showed teeth. "I own everything you touch."

She lunged left.

Ruhan moved faster.

One moment she was running—the next, she was pressed face-first against the wall, his body a steel barricade behind her. His breath was warm against her ear.

"Rule number one," he murmured, one hand pinning both of hers above her head. "When I give you a cage, little bird, it's because the outside world will eat you alive."

She thrashed, but his grip only tightened. His other hand slid down her side, over her ribs, coming to rest just above her hipbone. A mockery of intimacy.

"Rule number two." His lips brushed the shell of her ear. "Every punishment is a choice. You picked this one."

Aira stilled. "What are you—"

The gunshot cracked through the alley before she finished the sentence.

She screamed.

But there was no pain. Just the acrid smell of gunpowder and Ruhan's chest vibrating against her back. *Laughing.*

She whirled around.

A man slumped against the opposite wall, blood blooming across his shirt. The same hooded figure from the photos. A glint of metal near his lifeless fingers—a knife.

"He's been following you since you left the penthouse," Ruhan said, holstering his weapon. "Viktor's favorite pet."

Aira's knees buckled.

Ruhan caught her effortlessly, one arm hooking under her legs as he lifted her against his chest. Her face pressed into his neck, breathing in violence and expensive cologne.

"You—you killed him."

"I protect what's mine." His heartbeat was steady under her cheek. Terrifyingly calm. "Now let's go home."

She expected rage. Cruelty. Instead, his thumb stroked her ankle where it dangled over his arm—almost gentle.

That scared her most of all.

_ _ _ _ _

T O B E C O N T I N U E D......

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***