Agony [Chapter 5]

"Tell me," Glen said calmly, though the threat beneath his voice was unmistakable. "Do you want to stay with me... or go home with your father?"

Akiko's gaze didn't waver. She kept her eyes fixed on Mr. Eloise—the man who had turned her childhood into a living nightmare. Even now, standing there with a face lined with regret, she couldn't bring herself to look at him directly.

"I want to talk to him alone," she said quietly.

Glen studied her for a long moment before giving a slow nod. "Five minutes."

The sound of footsteps echoed as they stepped into the hall. Mr. Eloise looked different now-no longer domineering, no longer cruel. For the first time in years, desperation clung to him like a shadow.

"Akiko..."

His voice broke. "I know I failed you. I was a terrible father. But let me fix this. Please... come home."

Her lips curved into a faint, bitter smile.

"It's too late," she said flatly, her gaze drifting past him as if he were nothing more than a stranger.

"If you'd treated me like your daughter when it mattered..." Her voice faltered for just a second before steadying again. "Maybe I'd have something left to believe in."

She exhaled slowly. "But now? You already destroyed everything."

"Don't say that, i'm sorry..." he pleaded, reaching for her with trembling hands.

Akiko stepped back.

"I forgave you," she whispered, rolling up her sleeve-revealing faint, old scars that time had failed to erase.

"But don't expect me to relive that nightmare. It hurts more knowing my own father abandoned me than anything Glen could ever do." The color drained from Mr. Eloise's face.

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

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

"Really?" she shot back coldly. "Is that why you tried to trade her for me?"

He flinched.

"Your sister came home earlier," he said cautiously. "She said she met you... and she knew something was wrong just by looking at you. So i told her everything."

Akiko didn't respond.

"She was furious," he continued, shame thick in his voice. "She said she'd bring you home... even if it meant taking your place."

Silence stretched between them.

"You're sick, aren't you?" he pleaded. "Come home. Let's finish your treatment."

Akiko let out a hollow breath.

"You don't even know what's killing me," she said quietly. His face went pale.

"Stop pretending to care," Akiko added, her eyes glacial. "I don't know what scheme you're planning this time... but I won't let you drag Keinara into this hell. Never."

Without another word, she turned away. When Akiko returned and stood beside him again, Glen didn't bother hiding the satisfaction in his expression.

"Good girl," he murmured.

"Why didn't you leave with your father?" he asked calmly, his gaze searching her face for cracks.

"If I left," Akiko replied without hesitation, "you'd go after my sister instead. You and my father... you're exactly the same."

For a split second, surprise flickered across Glen's face. Then he smiled. Before he could speak, a scream tore through the air.

"Oh," Glen muttered, pressing a concealed button. "Almost forgot."

A hidden door slid open. Yelena lay inside-bloodied, trembling, barely conscious. Akiko moved instinctively, but Glen stopped her with a single arm.

"Stay still."

One shot.

Then another.

Silence followed.

To Glen, pulling the trigger required no emotion-only decision. He lowered the gun with unsettling ease, as if what he'd just done was nothing more than routine.

"That's what happens when you cross me," Glen said.

"Why...?" Akiko whispered. "Why did you kill her?"

"Because I can."

"People fight to survive," Akiko said softly. "And you destroy them like they're nothing."

The gun pressed against her forehead.

"Test me," he warned.

"Go ahead," she said. "I'm not afraid to die."

Glen paused, then lowered the weapon.

"I like that," he muttered. "But don't push your luck."

---

The ride home stretched in heavy silence, broken only by the low hum of the engine and the muted rush of the city outside. Streetlights bled into long streaks of gold against the windshield, the night pressing in on both sides of the car.

"You want to die, don't you?" Glen asked suddenly.

Akiko didn't turn toward him. Her gaze stayed fixed on the city lights sliding past the car window, her reflection faint and ghostlike against the glass.

"No."

Glen's fingers stilled against the steering wheel. "Then why did it look like you didn't care at all?"

Her eyes remained outside, distant and unmoved. "Because my will doesn't matter in a world ruled by men like you."

"You right. After all..." he said quietly, "your life is already under my control."

Glen smirked.

After they returned to the apartment, the air remained cold and untouched, as if the space itself refused to warm up. Glen dropped onto the sofa with a glass in hand, the quiet clink of ice the only sound in the room.

Akiko moved through the apartment in silence, putting things away, straightening what didn't need to be fixed-anything to stay busy, anything to keep distance.

A moment later, she stepped onto the balcony. Her fingers brushed the petals of the flowers absentmindedly, her gaze distant.

"Beautiful," he said, his voice low and measured. "But trapped. Just like you."

Akiko didn't respond, only observed him for a moment. When he moved closer, wrapping his arm around her shoulder, the heat of his body bled through her clothes. She stiffened slightly, realizing his warmth was excessive-even for Glen. He wasn't just tense; he was sick.

Without a word, she stepped back into the apartment, heading straight to the medicine cabinet. Returning to the bedroom, she placed a bottle of water and the prescribed medication in his hands.

"Take this," she instructed softly. "You need rest."

"Stay with me tonight," he said suddenly, his voice low but firm.

"No," she replied, shaking her head.

"Just for tonight," he pressed, leaving no room for argument. It wasn't a request.

Akiko sighed quietly, recognizing the inevitability, and followed him to the bed. They lay side by side, the space between them thick with unspoken tension.

"I've never been sick before," he muttered.

"You're lucky," she thought. "Some of us were born broken."

Glen shifted slightly, pulling Akiko closer to him as they lay in bed. Her body stiffened instinctively, hands brushing against his in silent protest.

"Relax," he murmured softly, his hand pausing on her shoulder. "I'm not going to touch you... in that way. Not tonight."

Akiko's eyes met his briefly, unreadable, before she turned her gaze away, refusing to respond further.

Glen tilted his head, studying her closely.

"I don’t get it," he said slowly. "Most women would be thrilled to be this close to me… flustered, excited."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "But you? Nothing. Not even a reaction."

"And that bothers you?" Akiko asked quietly, her tone calm, almost challenging.

"No," he replied with a faint chuckle. "It just... makes me curious."

"Nothing interesting about me. So there's no need to be curious." she said softly.

Glen let out a slow breath, his eyes tracing her profile in the dim light. 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.