Caged By Choise [Chapter 5]

“Tell me, sweetheart. Do you want to stay with me… or go home… with your Father?”

Akiko's eyes didn’t waver. She kept them fixed on Mr. Eloise—the man who had made her life a living nightmare. Even now, as he stood there, desperate, remorseful… she couldn’t meet his eyes.

"I want to speak with him alone," Akiko requested quietly.

"Five minutes," Glen replied curtly.

Mr. Eloise's steps echoed down the hall as they left the room, his face carrying a fragile mix of false hope and regret. For the first time in years, his expression wasn’t cold, but desperate—and trembling.

"Akiko…" His voice cracked the moment they stopped. "I know I’ve failed you. I’ve been… a terrible father. But I want to fix this. Please… come home. Let me do right by you."

Akiko’s lips curved into a bitter, empty smile. "It’s too late," she replied flatly. Her eyes didn’t meet his—they stayed distant, fixed somewhere far beyond him, like he wasn’t even worth seeing.

"If you’d treated me like your daughter when it mattered…" Her voice cracked slightly, but her expression remained composed. "Maybe I’d have something left to believe in. But now? I don’t even care if Glen ruins what’s left of me."

"Don’t say that," Mr. Eloise pleaded, his hand reaching for her—trembling. But Akiko took a step back, her eyes cold and unreadable. "Please, Akiko. I’m sorry… I—"

"I forgave you," she whispered, rolling up her sleeve to reveal old, faded scars.

"But don't expect me to relive that nightmare. It hurts more knowing my own father abandoned me than anything Glen could ever do."

Mr. Eloise’s expression cracked as the weight of her words sank in.

"Take care of Keinara," Akiko said firmly. "That’s all I ask. She deserves the future you stole from me."

"I promise I'll protect you both," he insisted.

"Really? Is that why you tried to trade her for me?" she shot back, her voice low and sharp.

“Your sister came home earlier,” Mr. Eloise began, his voice strained, almost cautious. “She said she met you on the street… and could tell something was wrong just by looking at you. So… I told her everything.”

Akiko didn’t speak. Her eyes stayed fixed on the wall beside him, unreadable as ever.

“She was furious,” he continued, the words faltering at the edges. “She wants to bring you back… even if it means taking your place.”

A short silence stretched between them, heavy and cold.

“You’re sick, aren’t you? Come home… let’s finish your treatment,” he pleaded, the false confidence cracking beneath the surface.

Akiko’s lips curved into a faint, bitter smile. Her voice was flat, almost detached.

“You don’t even know what’s killing me.”

Her words hung in the air like smoke. Mr. Eloise flinched, the color draining from his face.

“Stop pretending to care,” Akiko added, her tone as empty as her gaze.

Her father's lips parted, but no words came.

"And I don’t know what scheme you’ve planned this time…" Her stare burned through him like ice. "But I won’t let you drag Keinara into this hell. Never."

Without another glance, Akiko turned and walked away, her footsteps quiet but resolute, leaving Mr. Eloise drowning in his own shattered reflection.

Seeing Akiko walk back into the room and quietly take her place beside him, Glen couldn’t hide the satisfied curve that tugged at the corner of his lips. There it was—that quiet defiance, that haunting emptiness in her eyes… and yet, she stayed.

She had the chance to leave. She could’ve chosen her father, but instead, she came back—to him.

“Good girl,” Glen murmured under his breath, slipping an arm possessively around her waist.

“Why didn’t you just leave with your father?” Glen asked quietly, his voice calm, but the threat lingered beneath every word. His eyes drifted lazily over her face, searching for cracks in her composure.

Akiko didn’t hesitate. “What would be the point?” she replied coldly, her gaze fixed ahead. “You two… you’re exactly the same.”

Glen’s lips curled into a slow, dangerous smile. “Is that so?”

“If I left with him,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper but cutting like a blade, “you’d only come after my sister instead.”

For the first time, a flicker of surprise crossed Glen’s face—brief, gone in an instant—replaced by quiet amusement.

A sudden, piercing scream shattered the quiet.

"Ah… I almost forgot," Glen muttered coolly, his eyes glinting with quiet menace as he pressed a hidden button on the wall.

A concealed door slid open with a soft mechanical hiss.

Yelena’s bloodied form lay inside—her designer dress ripped, her makeup smeared with tears and blood. She wasn't dead. Not yet. But the fear in her eyes made it clear… she knew it was coming.

Akiko instinctively moved to help her, but Glen's arm blocked her, his expression unreadable.

“Stay still,” he ordered, his voice so calm it sent a chill down her spine.

Then—with terrifying nonchalance—he aimed the gun and fired. Once. Twice. Again. The shots echoed, sharp, precise. His hand steady, his face unreadable—as if ending a life was as casual as lighting a cigarette.

Yelena’s body collapsed in a lifeless heap.

“That’s what happens when you cross me,” Glen remarked softly, spinning the gun around his finger as if it were nothing but a toy.

Akiko's breath trembled. Her voice barely escaped her lips. "Why…? Why did you kill her?"

Glen tilted his head, eyes glinting with detached amusement. "Because I can."

"People fight to survive," Akiko whispered, her fists tightening at her sides. "And you… destroy them like they mean nothing."

His dangerous smile deepened. The gun pressed cold and hard to her forehead.

"Test me," he warned softly.

Akiko didn’t move. "Go on. I’m not afraid to die."

Glen paused. Amusement flickered in his eyes as he lowered the weapon. "I like your spirit," he whispered darkly. "But don’t push your luck."

"You’ll get your turn," he growled, then walked away.

The ride home was quiet at first. The tires hummed against the asphalt, the city lights blurring past. Akiko leaned her head against the window, her expression blank, eyes distant.

Beside her, Glen drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, eyes flicking toward her every few seconds.

“Aiko,” his voice finally broke the silence. “You want to die, don’t you?”

Akiko didn’t move. “No.”

Glen’s eyes narrowed, studying her profile. “Then why… when I held a gun to your head… there wasn’t even fear in your eyes?”

Her gaze stayed fixed on the passing streets. “Even if I didn’t want to die… it wouldn’t matter if you decided I should.”

A beat of silence. Then, a quiet smirk curved Glen’s lips, more intrigue than amusement.

“Fair enough,” he muttered. “After all… your life belongs to me now.” He leaned back in his seat.

“But don’t worry, little lamb… I don’t break my toys that easily.”

---

By the time they returned to the apartment, Glen’s energy was clearly spent. His expression, usually sharp and composed, had dulled with exhaustion—but the man still buried himself in work, his laptop glowing on the living room table long into the night.

Akiko didn’t rest either.

She followed the rhythm he unknowingly set, as if bound to his routines. Not out of care—but because, somehow, resting while he was awake felt… wrong.

Instead, she quietly tidied the kitchen, organizing groceries, preparing meals for the next few days, though her pale face hinted at her own exhaustion.

Later, Glen leaned back in his chair, his eyes following her silently as she stepped onto the balcony, her fingers brushing the delicate petals of the flowers growing there.

A faint smile pulled at his lips as he joined her outside, leaning casually beside her.

"That flower's just like you," he remarked coolly. "Beautiful… but caged. It’ll never leave this apartment—just like you.”

Akiko didn’t respond. Her eyes drifted over him instead—the faint flush creeping up his neck, the tension in his jaw. He wasn’t just tired. He wasn’t well.

Without a word, she turned away, disappearing briefly before returning with a bottle of water and medication. She placed them in his hand, her face unreadable, saying nothing more.

Glen’s gaze lingered on her, a smirk curling at the corner of his lips. Even behind that cold, indifferent mask… she still noticed. Still cared—in her own distant, guarded way.

“Stay with me tonight,” Glen said suddenly, cutting through the quiet.

Akiko hesitated. “No.”

“Just for tonight,” he pressed, his voice low but leaving no room for argument.

It wasn’t a request—it never was. So, without another word, she followed him to the bedroom.

They lay side by side, the space between them thick with unspoken tension.

“I don’t get sick easily," Glen muttered, pulling the blanket higher as if that alone could fight the fever burning beneath his skin.

Akiko’s eyes drifted over him. “You’re lucky,” she thought silently, turning away. "Some of us… were born broken."

Glen hovered above, kissing her lips with quiet possessiveness. Akiko instinctively recoiled, her hand clutching the edge of her shirt—as if half-expecting Glen to cross a line.

"Relax," Glen whispered. "I wouldn’t touch you like that. Not yet."

“You really don’t care, do you?” His voice was soft, laced with quiet frustration.

“You don’t get flustered… don’t shy away… You barely react even when I…” His fingers brushed a strand of her brown hair away, lingering at the curve of her cheek. “Most women would melt under my touch. You? You just… didn't care.”

Akiko’s eyes met his, steady. “And that bothers you?”

A low chuckle escaped him. “No. But it makes you… interesting.”

Her gaze drifted back to the ceiling. “There’s nothing interesting about me.”

But Glen wasn’t convinced. The girl beside him was a puzzle—a frustrating, emotionless little lamb that refused to show fear, desire… anything.

“I don’t like being ignored, Aiko,” Glen warned softly.

Akiko’s only response was to close her eyes. “Sorry.”

Glen fell silent, watching her breathe, her face so close yet miles away. It unnerved him how unaffected she was. How she could lie beside a man like him—with all his power, his danger—and still sleep as if nothing mattered.

“Strange girl,” he muttered under his breath. But oddly enough… for the first time in a while… The quiet didn’t suffocate him.

And as sleep finally pulled him under, his last thought was that maybe, just maybe, this broken, empty girl might be the first thing in his life he couldn’t control.