Chapter 12 Are You Following Me?

He drove forward with relentless force, his voice cutting through the heavy air as he demanded an answer.

I bit down on my lip, refusing to speak. Tears mingled with sweat, soaking into the pillow beneath me. My silence was gasoline on the fire.

His patience snapped.

In one decisive motion, he flipped me over, forcing me down against the mattress. His grip was unyielding, his presence towering over me like a shadow swallowing the room.

"Not talking?" His voice was a low threat.

His hand tangled in my hair, pulling my head up until my gaze met the mirror across the room. My own reflection stared back—eyes wide, cheeks flushed, breath ragged—while his figure loomed behind me, a dark silhouette of dominance.

"Then I'll keep going until you do."

Every movement was deliberate, each one driving me deeper into the bed, pinning me as if he could anchor me there forever. My thoughts scattered, my voice breaking into cries and pleas that dissolved into the air.

Time seemed to lose all meaning. The storm between us burned until he finally pulled away, leaving me sprawled across the bed, gasping for breath. My body felt heavy, every muscle trembling, my lungs aching with each inhale.

He dressed without a word, standing over me with eyes as cold and distant as if I were a stranger. "From now on, you're not going anywhere."

The door clicked shut behind him. The lock turned.

I was his prisoner.

Days blurred together. I was confined to the apartment, guards stationed outside around the clock. My phone and laptop were gone, the world beyond these walls cut off completely. Arthur didn't return.

The pressure and fear hollowed me out. Sleep became impossible. When exhaustion finally dragged me under, nightmares came—fire roaring through the night, my father lying in a pool of blood, and the Ouroboros ring glinting in the darkness.

"No… Dad… run…"

I woke drenched in cold sweat, my voice still trembling from the dream.

I didn't know that, outside my door, Arthur stood in the dark, unmoving, for the entire night.

On the fifth day, the lock finally turned.

Arthur stepped inside. He looked thinner, the sharp line of his jaw shadowed with stubble. The fatigue in his eyes was buried under ice.

He lit a cigarette. Smoke curled between us, blurring his expression. "Years ago, someone worked from the inside to destroy my father."

My head snapped up.

"And the one who struck the final blow was a devoted follower of the Davis Family."

He exhaled a slow stream of smoke. "Sophia, you've played your role well… if your goal was to destroy me."

"It's not me!" The words tore out of me. I stumbled off the bed, grabbing his arm. "I don't know anything! I swear!"

He shook me off, sending me sprawling onto the carpet.

"Enough. I won't believe a single word you say."

He left. This time, the door stayed unlocked.

I knew then—I was no longer a suspect to be contained. I was something worse: a piece on his board, ready to be discarded.

That night, the communicator I had hidden for ten years came alive.

White Vixen.

"Things have changed. Arthur is heading to the abandoned warehouse in Dockford Quarter tonight for his investigation. There's a trap waiting—someone wants him dead."

A chill swept through me.

I bolted out of the apartment, driving straight to the Russell Group. His men stopped me—he had already left.

I called. No answer.

With no other choice, I drove to the only main road near the warehouse and waited.

Rain crashed down in sheets, hammering the windshield. I didn't know if the storm had forced him to turn back. Communications were down.

An hour passed.

Two.

A day.

Two days.

I didn't sleep. I didn't leave. I survived on the few bottles of water in the car, my body soaked through, shivering under the relentless rain. Hunger gnawed at me, my vision blurring.

When I was on the brink of collapse, headlights cut through the storm.

George.

I stumbled out, forcing my legs to move. I stepped into the road, arms spread, blocking the familiar car.

By the time I returned, the cold had sunk into my bones. My skin burned with fever.

I opened the door to find Arthur sitting with his back to me, swirling a glass of red wine. "Where were you?" His voice was low, unreadable.

My head throbbed. I didn't answer. I went to the bathroom, changed into dry clothes, and stepped out to find him leaning in the doorway, his gaze locked on me.

"You contacted the Davis Family?" His tone was sharp.

I frowned. "Were you following me?"

He didn't answer. "Some things… I expect you to confess yourself."

I almost laughed. I had stood in the rain for two days, nearly died, and all I got was suspicion.

This partnership should never have existed.

I lowered my gaze. "If you don't believe me, we can end this now."

I brushed past him, heading for the bedroom. His hand caught my arm, yanking me back, slamming me against the wall.

His amber eyes burned with anger. "Have I not treated you well? Why would you betray me?"

The weight of his words crushed me. My voice shook. "Treated me well? You don't even give me the basic trust… and you call that kindness?"

The heat between us rose, stripping away my restraint. Every unspoken hurt broke free.

"If you don't believe me… then kill me now…"