MasukClara’s body throbbed with exhaustion. Each breath rasped against the gag, and every tremor of her arms sent jolts of pain up her veins. Sweat clung to her skin, tears streaked down her cheeks. Her muscles ached from being bound so tightly, and every movement brought new shocks that left her whimpering silently into the muffling fabric over her mouth.Somewhere in the shadows, the voice whispered, low and threatening. “Stop moving. Every twitch will make it worse.”Her chest heaved as she tried to calm herself. The cold of the room seeped into her skin, but it was the fear that held her still. Her gaze followed invisible movements around her. Whoever had done this was watching her. She could feel it, even without seeing. Every time she tried to adjust her limbs, the electricity surged through her, forcing her to freeze again.A distant noise made her heart spike. The metallic scrape of boots on concrete grew louder. Clara’s body tensed. She knew the person approaching was not part of
Clara’s eyelids fluttered as consciousness slowly crept in. The room was dim, unnervingly cold, and her body refused to obey her fully. Her hands were bound tightly behind her back, and a rough gag muffled her mouth. Every shallow breath scraped against the material, but she dared not struggle too violently. Pain shot through her arms with the slightest movement.A shiver ran through her as she tested her legs. The chair beneath her was solid, anchored to the floor. The distant scrape of metal against metal echoed faintly, making her skin crawl. She tried to cry out, but only a muffled, uneven sound escaped.A voice, low and controlled, slid through the darkness. “Don’t move.”Her chest tightened. Every instinct screamed to fight, but the warning wrapped itself around her mind like ice. Any wrong motion, and the danger she imagined would be real. She sensed someone was close, observing her every attempt to shift in the chair. She could not see and could not fight, but she knew every m
She tried to steady herself, pressing a hand to the side of her head. The noise of the party began to fade, replaced by a sharp ringing in her ears that blurred everything around her.A figure came up close beside her, and before she could react, a strong hand pressed firmly over her mouth. She struggled slightly, the edge of consciousness still holding her captive but the grip was too tight and did not loosen.The masked man in black bent down beside her, supporting her under the shoulders and back as she went limp, unable to resist the careful restraint.Clara’s vision blurred further as the person lifted her effortlessly, He held her close, keeping her out of sight as he moved. She tried to push against him, but her strength failed her.The man moved quickly toward a side door, keeping her hidden from view as he guided her steadily toward a car parked nearby, waiting quietly. The vehicle sat in silence, engine off, until he carefully lifted her inside. Clara’s head rested against
Clara stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the fall of her long gown as it settled neatly around her. The crochet fabric draped smoothly, reaching the floor in a soft line that moved lightly when she shifted. It's gentle tone mirrored the light, elegant without glare. She took a slow breath, steadying herself as the familiar discomfort pressed low in her body. Ignoring it, she lifted her chin slightly and turned away from the mirror.H1 remained nearby, its presence silent but attentive. “Departure is in ten minutes,” it informed her. Clara picked up her cup, letting the warmth settle into her palms before taking a small sip. The lingering warmth gave her a sense of stability, guiding her concentration. She set the cup aside and moved toward the door.At the entrance downstairs, Jeffery listened as Logan gave a final update. “Guest list is confirmed. Security teams are already stationed inside and outside the property,” Logan said, keeping his tone low. Jeffery’s eyes held a qui
H1 entered Clara’s room with its usual soft hum. She was struggling to stand when it appeared in the doorway. Every step hurt, and even gripping the edge of the bed for support required effort. “Good morning,” H1 said gently. “Mr. Rothwell requested I check if you need anything.”Clara shook her head slowly, biting back a groan.“No… I’m okay,” she whispered. Her voice sounded steadier than she felt.The robot’s sensors lingered on her posture. “Are you certain?”“Yes,” she replied, a little more firmly, though even speaking required exertion. She leaned against the bed, trying to steady herself. H1 gave a slight nod, then retreated quietly, leaving her in the soft light of the room.Clara exhaled slowly, letting her body settle. Her cramps throbbed with sharp, stubborn insistence, but she refused to let them dictate more than they already had. She shifted slightly, pressing her hands against her lower abdomen, waiting for a moment of relief that seemed to come only gradually.Evenin
Later that night, Jeffery stood alone in his study. The screen in front of him replayed the same footage again. A small phone hidden beneath her hair. His eyes stayed on it, his thoughts going beyond what the screen actually showed.He replayed it once more. Clara wasn't aware he knew, or at least that was how it appeared. Nothing in her movement suggested she knew she was being recorded that day. Yet the placement of that phone told a different story. She had put it there on purpose.He leaned back slightly, his mind had already moved elsewhere. He thought about the boardroom. About how she stood up without hesitation and spoke as if she already understood the situation better than everyone else in the room. She didn’t defend herself like someone under pressure. She spoke like someone who knew where the truth stood and refused to let anything shift it. That was what stayed with him.The footage raised questions, but her actions earlier the day did the same. One suggested something hi







