Chapter 4: A Safe Cage

They sat together long after the lights of the city bled into black.

Kai didn’t fall asleep on the couch, but he didn’t leave it either. Neither did Alek. They shared the space in a silence that no longer felt fragile—just suspended, like the air between two cliffs before the wind decides which way to blow.

It was Alek who finally stood first.

"I’m going to bed," he said quietly. "You should too."

Kai nodded, but made no move to rise. He didn’t look at him. Didn’t need to.

Alek paused in the hallway. "You’re safe here."

It wasn’t a reassurance. It was a fact. Offered simply. With weight.

Kai heard the bedroom door close minutes later. He sat for a long time after, knees drawn to his chest, until exhaustion dragged him upright. The guest bed welcomed him like it had been waiting all day.

And for the first time in longer than he could remember—he let himself sleep.

The next morning was quiet.

Kai woke to soft daylight and no alarm. He dressed slowly. Ate breakfast without anyone watching. The suppressants were still working. The edge of his cycle had dulled. His head was clearer.

Alek was gone again. Another note left in his place. Just like before. Simple. Clean.

Back by 18:00. Don’t answer the door. – A

Kai smiled despite himself. He didn’t know what Alek did all day. Some kind of executive—too powerful, too rich. But he didn’t talk like a man used to getting his way. He didn’t carry himself like someone who needed to prove it, either.

Kai took a slow walk around the apartment again, looking not for things, but for details. He was beginning to understand something about Alek—that the man lived surrounded by walls even more impenetrable than Kai’s. But his were built with purpose.

Minimalism wasn’t just aesthetic.

It was armor.

Kai stood in the doorway of Alek’s room and stared at the bed.

Still made. Sheets tucked tight. Desk beside it bare except for a sleek digital planner and a stylus. No clutter. No distractions.

It reminded him of a military dorm.

Efficient. Controlled. Lifeless.

Just like Alek.

Just like him.

That afternoon, Kai stood on the small balcony, the city’s haze rising up to meet him. A silent storm of noise and motion spread below—a million lives colliding and dodging, never noticing one another.

He sipped water slowly. The wind tugged at his hair.

The doorbell buzzed.

Kai flinched so hard he nearly dropped the glass.

He froze.

It buzzed again.

He didn’t move.

The third buzz turned into a knock. Followed by a man’s voice, filtered through the intercom.

"Security. Package delivery for Renwick. Needs signature."

Kai didn’t breathe.

Didn’t speak.

He stepped back from the door like it might explode.

He waited.

Long minutes passed.

Eventually, the footsteps faded. The hallway went silent.

Kai stood there until his knees locked. Then sat on the floor, back against the wall, arms wrapped around himself. His heart thundered. His palms were slick.

He didn’t move until the sound of the door unlocking snapped him out of it.

Alek stepped in, carrying a small box under one arm. He paused when he saw Kai sitting on the floor, frozen.

His expression didn’t shift, but something in his posture changed.

"You didn’t answer."

"You said not to."

"Good."

He walked past Kai and placed the box on the counter. Only then did he crouch beside him.

"You okay?"

Kai nodded. But his face said otherwise.

"Did they try to force anything?"

"No. Just buzzed. Said they needed a signature."

Alek exhaled through his nose. "I’ll talk to the building manager. That shouldn’t happen."