“There’s a guest coming to the office today. Wear something that doesn’t make you look like a maid,” Glen said flatly as he adjusted his cufflinks.
Akiko paused mid-slice. “They won’t be paying attention to me.”“Of course they will, Aiko,” he replied without missing a beat. “You represent me now—So dress like someone who belongs next to me.”She didn’t argue. She just turned back to the cutting board, the blade slicing fruit with practiced silence.Later, they left the apartment together, accompanied this time by Glen’s personal assistant—a clear sign that today’s visitor wasn’t just any business associate. Security around the building was tight, tension humming in the air.Akiko sighed quietly, mentally bracing herself for another day at the office. Sharing a room with Glen had never grown easier. She often felt like prey beneath the gaze of a silent predator.Barely an hour into the morning, the oThe cold air made her cough as she pulled on her jacket. With what little strength remained, Akiko pushed herself off the couch and stepped outside. She paused, gazing at the sky. No stars. No moon. Just an empty black canvas above her.She had locked herself away for days—sustained only by water and a few slices of bread. Even when Vian came knocking, she didn’t open the door. He must have assumed she’d moved on. If he had known how distant she’d become, he never would’ve confessed. He would’ve buried his feelings quietly—just to preserve the fragile thread that still connected them.“So cold…” she whispered to herself.No medicine. No appointments. Just bed. Stillness. Silence. She was waiting for the end. Hoping it would come without noise, without pain.But today, her heart nudged her toward something unfinished.The orphanage.She didn’t know if Ethan still remembered her. But she had come to say goodbye. Ethan was the boy she once found on the street—beaten by his parents. She h
The cold air grew sharper that evening, a quiet signal that winter was near.As usual, Akiko met Vian in the park. But a flicker of unease still lingered in her chest. She hadn’t forgotten the last time she saw Glen here."Why have you been avoiding me these past few days?" Vian asked gently, his voice carrying confusion. He had noticed the sudden distance."I’ve just been tired," she answered vaguely, eyes not quite meeting his."How much longer will your medicine last?" he pressed, brows knitting. "You haven’t come to refill your prescription. Are you still taking it?""I only take it when it hurts too much to breathe," she said flatly."You should take it consistently, like I told you," Vian said, his voice tightening. "Don’t worry about the cost. I told you I’d support your treatment until you’re better. You don’t have to suffer alone."“…Thank you.” Her soft voice twisted something inside him."Let me drive you home tonight," he offered, pulling out his keys. "I don’t want you ge
It had been two weeks since Akiko left Glen’s apartment. Now, she was living in a small rented house at the edge of the city. Luckily, Mr. Eloise hadn’t frozen her bank account, so she could survive for a while with the little money she had left.The house had only one bedroom, a small kitchen that merged with the dining space, a single bathroom, and a modest living room. Just enough for someone living alone. But with such affordable rent came a drawback—it didn’t have a heating system.Not that it mattered much. Akiko never had much appetite, which helped cut expenses. Most of her limited budget went to feeding Kouma, her dog. She watched him for a long time, wondering what would happen to him if she wasn’t around anymore.“If I die, you’ll have to find a new home,” she whispered, stroking his fur. “A warmer, better place than this.”Refusing to drown in sadness again, she decided to get ready to meet someone—Vian—a doctor she hadn’t seen in a long time. Initially, she’d planned to a
“There’s a guest coming to the office today. Wear something that doesn’t make you look like a maid,” Glen said flatly as he adjusted his cufflinks.Akiko paused mid-slice. “They won’t be paying attention to me.”“Of course they will, Aiko,” he replied without missing a beat. “You represent me now—So dress like someone who belongs next to me.”She didn’t argue. She just turned back to the cutting board, the blade slicing fruit with practiced silence.Later, they left the apartment together, accompanied this time by Glen’s personal assistant—a clear sign that today’s visitor wasn’t just any business associate. Security around the building was tight, tension humming in the air.Akiko sighed quietly, mentally bracing herself for another day at the office. Sharing a room with Glen had never grown easier. She often felt like prey beneath the gaze of a silent predator.Barely an hour into the morning, the o
The city outside was quiet. Rain tapped softly against the windows, a steady rhythm filling the apartment with its muted hum. Akiko moved around the kitchen, her steps slow, almost mechanical, as she tidied the last of the dishes. Across the room, Glen sat on the sofa, eyes seemingly fixed on the documents in his hand. But every few seconds… his gaze drifted back to her. The faint bruise along her jaw had faded, but shadows of it still clung to her skin. He hated it. Not for the reason he should—but because it reminded him of how easily she flinched beneath his touch. Akiko rinsed the final cup, her shoulders tense. She could feel his stare burning into her back. “Aiko. Come here,” Glen called quietly. She hesitated, drying her hands, before walking over. Without a word, Glen reached out—fingers curling gently around her wrist, g
The faint morning light crept through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the bedroom.Akiko stirred awake, her body aching with the ghost of last night’s bruises.She didn’t move — partly because of the pain, partly because of the arm draped heavily around her waist.Glen.His breath was steady, his face peaceful in sleep. The sharp edges of his features softened — no cruel words, no possessive grip — only the illusion of quiet.For a brief second, Akiko allowed herself to stare. In sleep, Glen almost looked human. Almost.Her gaze drifted lower — to the faint red marks beneath her sleeve. A quiet reminder of his anger.She slipped out of bed carefully, avoiding his arm. Her bare feet padded silently across the cold floor as she grabbed clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.The apartment was eerily quiet as they had breakfast. Glen scrolled through his phone, his coffee untouched. Akiko sat across fro