Lydia woke to the hum of fluorescent lights and the faint smell of gasoline. Her wrists were bound, but not tight enough to cut off her circulation — just enough to remind her she wasn't free. The room was metallic and cold, like a warehouse that had forgotten sunlight existed.
Every sound echoed: the drip of water somewhere distant, the clang of chains against concrete, the whisper of footsteps that weren't hers.
She strained to listen.
A door creaked.
Voices — low, deliberate.
"Make sure she doesn't see his face," a woman ordered. Lydia recognized it immediately. Cassandra.
Lydia's pulse spiked. She shifted, pressing herself deeper into the corner behind a stack of crates.
Then — another voice.
Calm. Controlled. Familiar.
Jaden.
Her stomach twisted.
Why was he here?
He shouldn't have been. Unless…
"You said you had it handled," Cassandra hissed.
"I do," Jaden replied. "But you've gone too far, Cass. This wasn't part of the plan."
His tone was low, but something sharp edged through it — authority.
The sound of boots scraped closer. Lydia held her breath. She could see the faint outline of Jaden's tall frame through a slit between the crates. He wasn't wearing his usual tailored confidence; he looked tense, guarded.
"I had no choice," Cassandra said, almost pleading. "She's too close. If she talks—"
"She won't," Jaden cut her off. "I'll handle it."
A long pause.
Then Cassandra: "You still care about her, don't you?"
Silence.
Lydia's heart thudded so loud she feared it would give her away.
Finally, Jaden said quietly, "You forget who you're talking to."
Cassandra laughed bitterly. "No, Jaden. I remember exactly who you are."
A door slammed. Footsteps retreated. Only one pair remained.
Jaden's.
Lydia leaned forward, just enough to glimpse him through the narrow slit. His head was bowed, hands on his waist as if the weight of something invisible was crushing him.
Then his voice, almost too soft to catch:
"Lydia… forgive me."
She froze.
He turned — and for a second, their eyes nearly met through the gap — before someone shouted his name from outside.
He spun toward the door. "Not yet," he said.
And left.
Lydia pressed her forehead to her knees, trembling. Every question she'd buried came roaring back.
Was Jaden her savior…. Or her captor?.