CAGED - A prisoner to their obsession

CHAPTER 20

VOTE TARGET FOR NEXT CHAPTER - 200

"What are you staring at, Mr.?"

"You," he replied softly.

"Tsk tsk tsk... creepy pervert," I teased.

"Yours creepy pervert," he chuckled.

Sweet laughs echoed, his eyes filled with warmth, his laughter a melody that eased my soul. The way he gently tucked my hair strands before kissing my forehead was a tender gesture that spoke volumes.

There was no place in this entire universe where I could feel anything remotely closer to what being in his embrace made me feel.

Safe.

Loved.

Adored.

No matter how messed up my personal life was, he made me feel like the luckiest person alive. He was the only man who had a key to my heart. Being with him was the only force that had kept me going. He wa-

"Miss."

"Miss."

"MISS."

I woke up with a jerk, my heart pounding in my chest.

I looked around and realized my situation. I was on the bed, and a man in his 50s was looking at me with a blank expression.

"Miss. Your breakfast," he said, placing the tray on the side table. I struggled to process anything, still lost in the haze of reality and dream.

"I will be downstairs, ma'am. If you need anything, just let me know," the man said with a bow, preparing to leave.

"Wait, stop!" I exclaimed, throwing off the quilt and attempting to rush after him. But as soon as my foot touched the floor, I stumbled and fell.

I looked down to see that I was only wearing a shirt, and my feet were bandaged.

"Miss, are you okay?" The man walked over to me and helped me settle back onto the bed.

"I will send Estella to help you freshen up," the man said.

"Who are you? Where am I? Where the fuck are those monsters?" I fired off the questions in rapid succession.

His eyes widened in shock.

"They mi-"

"Ohhhh, someone missing us so soon," my eyes snapping towards the door where the three brothers were standing.

"Leave, Derek," Elijah ordered, and the man, whose name I now knew was Derek, left after bowing to me and then to them.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Elijah spoke, his tone all jolly. I glared at him, but the next moment, I found myself laying back on the bed.

My eyes welled up with tears, and I tasted something metallic in my mouth.

"Ahh," I whimpered as Lucian slapped me and grabbed my hair tightly.

"Wish him back, doll," I whimpered, my hand reaching back to hold his, attempting to stop him from hurting me further.

"WISH. HIM. BACK," he hissed, his grip tightening. Tears of anger and frustration welled up in my eyes.

"Fuck off, you son of a bi-" I flinched, anticipating another slap as he raised his hand again.

"Alex," Lucian snapped, glaring at Alexander, clearly frustrated.

I quickly wiped away my tears before they could see.

"Now, now, now, Elijah, how about you bring the filthy little trash here, what was his name.. uhh Aiden" Alexander sneered, causing my eyes to widen in fear as I looked at him.

"Sure, bro," Elijah replied before leaving the room. As the door closed behind him, my heart raced, pounding against my chest like a trapped bird desperate for escape. All I could do was pray to God, hoping against hope that Aiden was okay. Fear gnawed at me, twisting in my gut like a tangled knot of snakes, while rage simmered just beneath the surface, fueled by the way these devils kept referring to him.

I felt powerless, trapped in a nightmare from which I couldn't wake. Every second stretched out into an eternity, each heartbeat a thunderous drum echoing in the silence of the room. The weight of uncertainty pressed down on me like a suffocating blanket, threatening to crush me beneath its unbearable heaviness.

"Relax, Ian, give her a few warning passes before you go on breaking her," Alexander's voice dripped with malice, sending shivers down my spine. My fists clenched the bedsheets tightly, my knuckles turning white with the effort to hold back my rising fear and anger.

Out of all three of them, Lucian was the one who seemed to take pleasure in inflicting physical pain. He was short-tempered and impulsive, his actions driven by raw aggression rather than rationality. Elijah, on the other hand, exuded an aura of sadistic delight in my suffering. He was the most psychotic of the trio, his eyes gleaming with a twisted pleasure whenever he saw me in pain. And then there was Alexander, the most calculating of them all, his mind a labyrinth of manipulation and deceit.

My eyes snapped towards the door as a woman in her late 40s entered, accompanied by Elijah and Aiden, tears glistening in his eyes as he struggled in her arms.

"Aiden!" I exclaimed, my heart leaping with both relief and fear.

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