Dark Room…

Amber.

“Get down,” Zeden snarled, his legs shoving me hard.

My knees hit the floor, pain shooting through them.

He grabbed my hair, yanking my head back until my neck strained. His face hovered close, his breath hot and sour, eyes glinting with something cruel as he tilted his head, listening for my reaction.

“Take it. Suck it,” he ordered, voice low and vicious.

“I’d rather die than let you touch me,” I spat, my voice cracking with rage. “I’d rather be buried alive than do what you want.” My spit landed on his cheek, and I glared, chest heaving.

He wiped it off with a slow swipe, letting out a dry, humorless chuckle.

His lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes stayed cold.

“You think you’re tough? I’ll kill you if you push me, girl. Your father shows up begging for you, I’ll take his head too.” He jabbed a finger at me, his voice dripping with menace.

“Do whatever you want,” I hissed, my teeth grinding so hard my jaw ached.

Tears burned my swollen face, but I kept my eyes locked on his, refusing to look away.

Fear clawed at my gut, sharp and relentless. His hand tightened in my hair, a silent warning.

“Then I’ll do whatever I want,” Zeden said, his voice cold and final.

His hand unbuckled his belt, the metal clinking as he kept my head tilted back, fingers digging into my scalp. His pants dropped, and his cock sprang free, brushing against my face as he pulled me closer.

“No, I don’t want this!” My voice cracked, raw with panic.

“You’ll take my cock like the little virgin you are,” he growled, his words dripping with venom. “Soon, you’ll be my slut and nothing more.”

“Never! Don’t you ever call me a slut again!” I shouted, jerking my face away from his shaft.

My hand tightened around the sharp object I’d grabbed from the corner earlier. With all my strength, I drove it into his toe.

“Fuck!” he roared, pain twisting his voice. He shoved my head away, his grip loosening as he stumbled back.

“This is what you get for trying to control me!” I yelled, scrambling backward to the corner near the bathroom, my heart pounding in my ears.

The door burst open, and Rukov, the guard who’d brought me here, rushed in.

“Boss, what’s the matter?” he asked, his voice tense.

“Lock her up!” Zeden snarled, his dead eyes flicking toward Rukov’s voice, his face contorted with rage.

“No, please, let me go! I want to go home!” I screamed, my voice breaking as I pressed myself against the wall, terror clawing at my chest.

“Let me go! He tried to force himself on me!” I screamed, thrashing as Rukov’s hands locked around my arms like steel clamps.

“Y-You’re all monsters!” I choked out, my voice cracking as he dragged me down the hallway. “If he’s not going to marry me, then why keep me here like some prisoner? You blind bastard!”

Rukov didn’t say a word. Not even a blink of emotion on his face.

My bare feet stumbled across the cold floor as I struggled to keep up with his harsh grip. I turned to look ahead—and that’s when I saw it.

The door.

It wasn’t wood.

Iron. Heavy. Dead silent.

“No… No, no. What is this?” I stammered, trying to dig my feet into the floor.

Rukov ignored me as he pulled out a set of thick keys and started unlocking the bolts one by one. The sound made my stomach twist.

“Are you—are you going to leave me in there?” I cried, voice shaking. “Please, it’s too dark… Don’t leave me alone in there!”

Still nothing.

He didn’t even look at me.

“Rukov! Please!” I begged, tugging at his arm now. “You can’t do this to me—please, I don’t want to be alone, please don’t—”

He shoved me hard.

I hit the floor of the room with a dull thud, the coldness biting into my skin instantly. My palms scraped against the hard ground as I twisted to look back at him.

But he was already locking the door.

“Rukov—please—I’m sorry—please let me out—I’ll do anything—just don’t leave me in here!” I cried, my voice breaking as I pushed against the door.

The last lock clicked.

Silence.

I dropped my forehead against the door, tears already streaking down my cheeks.

“…Please…”

But he was gone.

And I was alone. Again.

My whole life had turned into something I couldn’t even recognize anymore. My own blood—my father —had tossed me away like I meant nothing. He didn’t just reject me. He sold me. Traded me for power, for his selfish pride. And in this cold, silent room, all I could think about was my mother—still lying unconscious in that hospital bed, unaware her daughter was living a nightmare.

I sat in the corner, hugging my knees, shivering. My dress was damp with sweat and tears. My back ached from the hard floor. My throat burned from crying out.

Then I heard it.

Footsteps.

Soft. Measured. Someone trying not to be heard.

My heart kicked up, unsure if I should feel scared or hopeful. For a second, I thought—maybe Rukov came back. Maybe Zeden changed his mind. Maybe he wasn't going to keep me here after all.

I dragged myself to the door, legs unsteady. My palms pressed against the iron, my cheek resting against the cold surface as I tried to make out anything beyond it.

“Rukov?” I whispered, barely able to speak louder than a breath. “Is that you?”

No reply.

I tilted my head toward the small opening in the door, straining to hear. The footsteps were still there… slow, careful… getting closer.

“Please…” I said again, softer now. “I won’t scream anymore. I just want to talk…”

But the silence that followed didn’t ease anything inside me. It made my skin tighten, my stomach twist. Whoever it was—they weren’t speaking.

They were just there.

Waiting.

Listening.

Watching.

I swallowed hard and stepped back from the door, my fingers trembling as I slowly lowered myself to the floor again, chest rising and falling in panic.

Who was it?

Why weren’t they saying anything?

“Mama?..”

A small voice cut through the silence. A girl’s voice—young and soft, like it wasn’t meant to be heard.

I scrambled back to the door, my heartbeat climbing again. I pressed my face close to the narrow opening.

“Who’s there?” I whispered. “Show yourself…”

“Mother, is that you?” the voice came again, a little closer this time.

I stepped back just slightly when she came into view.

She couldn’t have been older than ten. Blonde hair falling around her shoulders, skin pale, eyes wide but unreadable. She didn’t smile. She didn’t blink much either. She just stood there… looking straight at me through the small gap in the door.

She came even closer now. Quiet steps. Careful, but steady.

“Are you my mother?” she asked, voice low.

I didn’t answer right away. My lips parted, but no words came. My hands clutched the bars of the door tighter.

“What?” I finally managed to say. “What do you mean? Who are you?”

My chest felt heavy, my mind racing. Everything inside me started pulling in different directions—shock, fear, confusion. I couldn’t make sense of it. I didn’t understand why this girl was here or why she thought I was her mother.

But she didn’t move. She just stood there… waiting for me to answer.