CHAPTER FIVE: A PRISON WITHOUT BARS

Annabelle lay motionless on the enormous bed, her eyes squeezed shut as though refusing to acknowledge the reality around her. She clung to the fragile hope that if she opened them, she would wake up in her room, hear her mother's voice calling her downstairs and find her father watching the news on TV as though nothing had happened.

But reality was cruel than dreams. With a trembling breath, she slowly opened her eyes. The luxurious bedroom remained unchanged.

The expensive chandelier hanging above shocked her misery, while the elegant furniture and silk curtains only reminded her that she was trapped inside the mansion of the man that destroyed her family.

A bitter smile appeared on her lips. "So, this is my life now."

She sat up slowly, every part of her body aching from exhaustion. She barely remembered falling asleep. Her mind had been overwhelmed by grief, fear and endless questions that refuse to leave her.

Dragging herself toward the bathroom, she closed the door behind and stood before the large mirror.

The young woman staring back at her looked nothing like the cheerful Annabelle everyone once knew.

Her eyes were swollen from crying. Dark circles rested them. Her face had become pale and lifeless. She looked broken.

She forced a smile at her reflection, but it disappeared almost immediately.

Without another glance, she removed her clothes and stepped into the bathtub. The water embraced her trembling body yet it couldn't wash away the pain buried inside her heart.

She scooped a handful of water and poured it over herself leaning against the tub.

Her thoughts became louder.

Should I sacrifice justice to save my brother?

What if I obey Desmond... and he still kills him

What if I tell the truth and my brother dies because of me.

Her breathing grew heavier. "I don't know what to do anymore," she whispered.

She lowered herself beneath the water, closing her eyes silence surrounded her.

For a brief moment, it felt peaceful but peace never lasted.

She surfaced a few seconds later, gasping softly before clasping her hands together.

"God..." Her voice quivered. "Please help me, I don't know what to do right now?

No answer came.

Only silence.

After several minutes Annabelle climbed out of the bathtub and walked into the bedroom.

She had barely take a few steps when the bedroom door swung open.

Desmond walked inside without knocking.

Annabelle froze.

For a split second, neither of them spoke.

His eyes instinctively landed on her naked body before she rushed to the wardrobe, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around body.

He remained still. His sharp gaze lingered for only a moment before he looked back at her face.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Quite attractive," he said calmly.

Heat rushed through Annabelle's face not from embarrassment but from anger.

She rushed toward the bed, clutching the towel tightly around herself.

"Have you lost your manners?" She snapped. "I'm a woman, you can't walk into my room whenever you please."

Disgust filled her voice.

"That's disrespectful."

Desmond lifted both hands slightly in surrender.

"Noted."

His tone remained calm, almost amused.

"No offense intended."

He walked to the bed and placed an elegant shopping bag on top of it.

"I bought something for you." Annabelle didn't even look at it.

"Get dressed" he continued. "We're leaving soon."

He turned toward the door but paused before stepping outside.

Looking over his shoulder, he flashed a small smile.

"We don't want to keep the police waiting."

Then he disappeared into the hallway.

Annabelle stared at the closed door with burning hatred.

"If only looks could kill...." She muttered her beneath her breath.

Several minutes later, she descended the grand staircase wearing the dress Desmond had bought for her.

The soft blue gown fit her perfectly. Anyone who saw her would think she was attending a celebration. Only she knew it felt more like a prison uniform.

The servants lowered their heads respectfully as she walked past, but none dared meet her eyes.

Outside the mansion, several black luxury vehicles were already waiting. The armed guards stood in perfect formation.

One of them approached her with a tiny wireless earphones resting in his gloved hand.

She frowned.

"What's this?"

"It's connected to your brother."

Her heart skipped a bit.

The guard continued without emotion. "You'll be able to hear him."

"Hope flickered inside her."

The next sentence crushed it.

"If you decided to do anything foolish... you'll hear him suffer before he dies."

The words pierced straight through her heart. Tears instantly filled her eyes.

She slowly accepted the device with shaking fingers.

Without another word, she placed it in her ear.

Desmond stepped out of the mansion moments later, adjusting the sleeves of his expensive suit as though he were heading to an ordinary business meeting.

He glanced at her briefly.

"Ready."

Annabelle refused to answer. He simply smiled.

"Let's go."

The convoy left the mansion and drove toward the police headquarters.

Throughout the journey, silence filled the vehicle.

Annabelle stared out the window, watching buildings pass after another while her heartbeat refused to slow.

Today.... She would have to lie. Not because she wanted to. Because someone she loved was paying the price.

The moment the convoy entered the police station dozens of reporters rushed toward the vehicles.

Camera flashes exploded from every direction.

"Mr Desmond!"

"Miss Annabelle."

"Did you witness the murder?"

"Are the rumors true?"

"What really happened that night?"

Security officers immediately formed a barrier, forcing the reporters backward before either of them could answer.

Microphones stretched toward them.

Cameras followed every movement.

Annabelle lowered her head, avoiding the flashing lights.

Every question felt like another knife twisting inside her heart.

Escorted by heavily armed security personnel, she and Desmond entered the station.

Inside the atmosphere became quieter.

Several officers greeted them before leading them down a long hallway.

They eventually stopped before two interrogation rooms.

An officer opened one of the doors.

"Mr Desmond."

He gestured politely. "This way."

Desmond adjusted his suit jacket.

Before entering he looked at Annabelle. Their eyes met briefly.

There was something unreadable in his expression. Confidence or maybe control.

A silent reminder that her brother's life remained in his hands.

Then he disappeared into the room, leaving Annabelle alone in the hallway with a pounding heart.

She stared at the closed door, silently praying that somehow...

Somehow...

The truth would survive long enough to be heard.