Beneath His Control [Chapter 3]

The apartment around her was pristine-expensive, immaculate, lifeless. Every surface gleamed, every corner perfectly arranged.

This wasn't home. It never would be. Glen had brought her here the night before-not to work, not yet-but to cage her. To let the reality settle in. This was where she would sleep. Where she would exist. Where her life would be neatly contained.

Her first day wouldn't be spent in an office. It would be spent learning how much freedom she had already lost.

She stared at her hands.

Glen controlled everything now. Her schedule. Her movements. Her future. There was no point continuing her treatment. Even if-by some cruel miracle-the cancer didn't kill her, the life waiting ahead no longer belonged to her.

And how would she afford it anyway? Glen had promised to cover her expenses. The apartment. The food. Everything. But generosity like that came with invisible chains. This wasn't living. It was survival-on his terms.

Still, Glen had allowed her out that morning. One condition. Be back by noon. With Kouma by her side, Akiko slipped into the city, her steps quick and cautious. The streets buzzed with life-people laughing, rushing, living. She felt like a ghost moving among them.

At the hospital, the nurse handed her the familiar file. Akiko didn't need to open it. She already knew what it said. But her fingers lifted the cover anyway, eyes landing on the same cold words that had followed her for months.

Medical Record

Diagnosis: Leukemia

Treatment Plan: Chemotherapy (Induction Phase)

She didn't flinch this time. She simply exhaled. Years of abuse. Years of loneliness. Nights spent wishing she wouldn't wake up at all. Maybe... stopping was easier.

"Akiko." She looked up.

Doctor Vian stood across from her, concern etched into his features. He had been there from the beginning-patient, gentle, offering hope she had never truly believed in.

They sat in the consultation room, silence heavy between them.

"I want to cancel everything," Akiko said quietly.

Vian stiffened. “But you were just about to begin chemotherapy.”

“I know,” she interrupted softly. “It doesn’t matter now.”

He studied her carefully — the exhaustion in her eyes, the faint bruises circling her wrists. Not just illness… but captivity.

“I’m tired,” she whispered. “I don’t think I can go through with it.”

For a long moment, Vian said nothing. Then he slid the file back toward her.

“Even so… I’ll still be here. Whenever you’re ready.”

She nodded. That was all she could give.

Outside, the city felt too loud. She checked the time. She was running out of it. Cutting through narrow streets, she moved faster-until shouting stopped her cold.

Up ahead, a man grabbed a young boy, shaking him violently. Another adult stood nearby, hurling insults. The boy collapsed, shielding his head. Akiko froze. The memory hit her like a blow.

Her father's hands. The shouting. The silence afterward.

The boy looked up. "Please..."

Akiko moved without thinking.

"Stop!" Her voice cut through the alley. The adults turned, startled. She stepped in front of the boy, her body shaking-but unmoving. Kouma growled low beside her. After a moment of curses and threats, they backed away.

When they were gone, Akiko knelt.

"What's your name?" she asked softly.

"Ethan," he whispered.

Her heart cracked. She checked the time again. No choice.

"Come with me," she said. "Just for now."

They hadn't gone far when a familiar rage blocked their path. The man stepped forward again. Akiko tightened her grip on Ethan. Then everything happened too fast. The dog slipped from her grasp, and the man snatched the leash.

"Let him go," Akiko said, her voice steady despite the terror clawing her chest.

"Trade him for that pretty body of yours," the man smirked, yanking the leash so hard Kouma whimpered in pain.

Akiko's eyes darted around, desperate. That's when she saw it - the sleek black car parked at the end of the alley. A man leaned against it casually. ​​ Watching.

It was Glen Xander McKenzie. He had simply been heading home, but the sight of her-already in trouble again-stopped him in his tracks. Curious, he stayed to watch. Obviously, Akiko couldn't recognize him. Half his face was hidden behind a mask and dark sunglasses.

"Please," she said, running toward him. "Help me—"

"No." The word was calm. Detached.

"Why would I?" he replied coolly. "You got yourself into this mess."

Her chest tightened. But Kouma- Akiko turned back. She didn't think. She acted. Determined, she snatched up a broken metal pipe and rushed back.

"Foolish," Glen muttered, watching. Gunshots cracked through the air. Hans, his assistant, barely flinched.

"She'll be dead, right?" Glen asked.

"No, sir," Hans replied.

Sure enough, Akiko emerged, Kouma limping beside her, Ethan clutching her hand. Glen's eyes narrowed. She didn't even recognize him, but the fire in her eyes...

"Interesting," Glen muttered, surprised. "Not as weak as I thought."

By the time Akiko returned to the apartment, her strength was nearly gone. Glen was waiting. His gaze flicked to Ethan.

"What is this?"

"He needed help," Akiko said hoarsely. "I couldn't leave him."

"You disobeyed me," he snapped.

The punishment wasn't loud. It was efficient. Cold. The wall was hard against her back. Her scalp burned. Her breath left her in sharp gasps as pain bloomed and faded, leaving her trembling.

She didn't scream. She didn't beg. That silence... amused him.

Later, when the apartment finally fell quiet, Akiko moved. She took Ethan where he would be safe. The Orphanage.

When she returned, Glen was there again, sitting on the sofa with a can in hand. He studied Akiko quietly, seeing how tired she looked, and yet feeling a quiet admiration for her unbreakable resolve.

"Learned your lesson?" he asked calmly. "You still think you can win in this little game?"

Akiko met his gaze. "I'm not playing your game."

Glen stepped closer, smiling.

"Oh," he whispered. "You've been in it since the moment you stepped into my world."

She swallowed, bruises aching beneath her clothes. "You don't scare me."

His smile deepened.

"Not yet," he said softly. "But you will."