His sinful Obsession

An offer

Frida had stopped counting the days.
That frightened her more than the locked gates, more than the missing phone, more than the way the penthouse seemed to swallow sound. Time here didn't move forward; it folded in on itself.
Morning light, controlled meals, polite silences. 

And no Casper.

She stood near the kitchen island, arms folded tight around herself, watching Nicolas pretend to be busy with paperwork that didn't require his full attention.

"You keep avoiding the question," she said.
Nicolas didn't look up. "I answered you."
"You didn't."
Her voice cracked despite her effort.
"You told me he's fine. That's not an answer."

Nicolas finally lifted his gaze. His expression was careful, too careful.
"Casper is alive. He's being taken care of."
"By who?" she pressed.
"You? Mr. Salvatore? Some stranger I didn't approve?"

Silence stretched.

Frida exhaled sharply, anger cutting through the ache in her chest.
"You see? This is what I mean. You all decide things about my life like I'm not even here. And why am I even being relevant to you all?"
"You are here," Nicolas said quietly. "That's the point."
She turned on him.
"I didn't choose this. I didn't choose to be here. I didn't choose to disappear from my own life."

Nicolas closed the folder in front of him with a soft thud.
"Frida... you need to understand..."
"No," she cut in.
"I need to leave. Today. I'll go anywhere. I'll book a hotel, I'll stay with a friend, I'll go back, there's my own life out there and I'll disappear if that's what he wants. Just..." Her throat tightened. "...I can't stay here anymore."

Nicolas studied her then. Not like an employee. Like a man watching a fuse burn down.
"He doesn't want that. Nonetheless you won't get far," he said.
Her brows knitted. "Is that a threat?"
"It's an observation." He hesitated, then added, "You are not safe alone anywhere Boss has enemies. They already tried to harm you"

Her stomach dropped. "Why are you saying that like it's a warning and a promise?"

Nicolas looked away.
"Because I don't lie well. Boss doesn't like unanswered risks."
"I'm not a risk," she whispered. "I'm just... waiting. Ella will come back. This is temporary."

Something unreadable crossed Nicolas's face. "Temporary things have a way of overstaying."

She looked at him then. "Can you help me leave?"
Silence.
"You shouldn't ask me that," he said.

That did it.
"So this is it?" she demanded.
"I'm a prisoner dressed in silk, fed well so I don't complain too loudly?"
"You're protected," he corrected.
She laughed, sharp and humorless.
"From whom?"
Nicolas didn't answer immediately.

When he finally spoke, his voice was low.
"From the same man you want to walk away from."
"He isn't even related to me or holds any importance that I'll walk away from him? What's with this phrase?"

Nicolas sighed.

That afternoon, Nicolas stood outside Rafael's study longer than necessary.

He could already hear it, the quiet rage humming beneath the surface, the kind that didn't need raised voices to be lethal.
Rafael didn't explode often.
He decided.

"Adelante," Rafael said without looking up.(Come in)
Nicolas stepped inside. "Ella quiere irse." (She wants to leave.)

That got his attention.

Rafael's pen paused mid-signature. Slowly, he set it down. "Explícate" (Explain.)

"Está frustrada. Sin teléfono. Sin contacto. Vuelve a preguntar por su gato. Dice que prefiere quedarse sola antes que vivir con extraños" (She's frustrated. No phone. No contact. She's asking about her cat again. She considers staying alone rather than living with strangers)

Nicolas swallowed. "Está decidida" (She's determined.)

Rafael leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled."¿Extraños?" (Strangers?)
 His expression didn't change, but the room felt colder.
"¿Dijo adónde iría?" (Did she say where she'd go?)"