Rayden woke with a plan.
Not a strategy.
A solution.
Smyle's silence was no longer distance.
It was defiance.
And defiance, left untreated, became rebellion.
He lay still for a moment, listening to the rhythm of breathing beside him. Smyle was awake — Rayden could tell by the way his breath was controlled, too steady, pretending to sleep.
Rayden turned slowly.
Smyle faced the wall.
A deliberate choice.
Rayden studied the line of his shoulder, the curve of his spine under the blanket.
Mine.
The word came instinctively.
Possession had always brought him calm.
This one… brought unrest.
He rose quietly, dressed without sound, and left the room.
By the time Smyle woke, the first lock had already changed.
THE FIRST WALL
Smyle noticed it when he tried to leave.
The front door scanned his fingerprint.
Paused.
Then flashed red.
ACCESS DENIED
He frowned and tried again.
Denied.
A guard appeared almost immediately, polite but firm.
"Mr. Black asked you to use the side entrance today, sir."
Smyle's stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"Security adjustment."
Smyle said nothing.
He walked to the side corridor instead.
Two guards there.
New faces.
One nodded respectfully. "We'll escort you."
"I didn't ask for escort," Smyle replied.
"It's mandatory now."
The word mandatory echoed unpleasantly.
Still, Smyle went.
He told himself it was temporary.
He told himself not to react.
He told himself Rayden would explain.
He was wrong.
RAYDEN
Rayden watched the surveillance feed from his office.
Multiple angles.
Multiple confirmations.
Smyle walking between guards.
Contained.
Safe.
Predictable.
Good.
His assistant hesitated beside him. "Sir… you've reassigned nearly all internal security to personal rotation."
"Yes."
"And the restricted clearance—"
"Was necessary."
She paused. "Mr. Black… if this continues, people will notice."
Rayden finally looked away from the screen.
"They already do," he said. "That's the point."
Visibility meant pressure.
Pressure meant obedience.
Smyle would adjust.
He always did.
SMYLE
University felt different.
Not because of classes.
Because of the men waiting outside.
Two near the gate.
One by the café.
One pretending to scroll his phone across the street.
They didn't hide it.
They didn't need to.
By lunchtime, Smyle understood.
This wasn't protection.
This was surveillance.
When he went to the library, a guard followed inside.
When he sat with his friends, someone stood ten steps away.
Leo noticed first.
"Uh… Smyle?" he whispered. "Why does that guy look like he's guarding a president?"
Smyle forced a laugh. "Overprotective husband."
But his hands were shaking under the table.
By evening, he was exhausted.
Not physically.
Mentally.
Being watched was heavier than fear.
When he returned home, Rayden was waiting in the living room.
Calm.
Prepared.
"You changed the locks," Smyle said quietly.
"Yes."
"You added guards."
"Yes."
"You're tracking my movement manually now."
"Yes."
Rayden stood. Walked closer.
"You disabled my systems," he said. "So I adapted."
Smyle stared at him.
"You didn't adapt," he whispered.
"You built a cage."
Rayden's eyes darkened.
"This is safety."
"No," Smyle replied, voice trembling now, "this is punishment."
Rayden tilted his head slightly. "For what?"
"For not being yours the way you want," Smyle said.
Silence.
Rayden stepped closer, invading space deliberately.
"You walked away from me."
"I walked to class."
"You hid things from me."
"I protected myself."
"You refused to answer me."
"I needed space."
Rayden's hand lifted.
Not to hit.
To hold Smyle's wrist.
Firm.
Possessive.
Smyle froze.
"Space," Rayden said quietly, "is dangerous for people connected to me."
Smyle's eyes burned.
"Then maybe," he whispered, "I shouldn't be connected to you at all."
That—
That was the line.
Rayden's control cracked.
Just slightly.
Enough.
THE SECOND WALL
That night, new rules appeared on Smyle's tablet.
• Curfew: 9:00 PM
• Travel only with approved security
• No unscheduled outings
• Phone location permanently active
Smyle stared at the screen.
Then slowly…
He shut it off.
He walked into the study.
Rayden looked up.
"You removed my autonomy," Smyle said. "So now I'm removing yours over me."
Rayden rose instantly.
"You will turn that back on."
"No."
"You will obey security protocol."
"No."
Rayden closed the distance in two strides.
"You don't understand the risks—"
"I understand I'm suffocating," Smyle said, voice breaking. "I can't breathe in your protection."
Rayden grabbed his shoulders.
Not rough.
Not gentle.
Desperate.
"You almost got yourself targeted," Rayden said harshly. "You think I'll let that happen again?"
"I handled it!"
"And next time you might not!"
Silence.
Their breaths collided.
Smyle's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Then let me die free," he said, "instead of alive in your cage."
Rayden stared at him.
Shock.
Fear.
Something close to panic flashed behind his eyes.
He released Smyle instantly.
As if burned.
LATER
That night, Rayden gave the final order.
Not in anger.
In terror.
"Limit his access to exits after midnight."
"Sir—"
"He won't notice."
He always noticed.
But Rayden was no longer thinking clearly.
If Smyle left…
If Smyle disappeared…
If Smyle chose a world without him…
Rayden didn't know who he would become.
MIDNIGHT
At 2:13 AM, Smyle tried the balcony door.
Locked.
Bathroom window.
Sealed.
Hall exit.
Restricted.
His chest tightened.
Not panic yet.
Just realization.
He sat on the edge of the bed slowly.
Looked at the sleeping man beside him.
So calm.
So powerful.
So afraid.
And for the first time since the forced marriage began…
Smyle understood something terrifying.
Rayden wasn't trying to protect him.
Rayden was trying to make sure that Smyle don't leave.
On the other hand-
Rayden thought that maybe he's doing this because he just don't want Smyle to be hurt when he's under him but the thing was he just didn't want to lose him . He didn't realised he care, he didn't try to think that way because the word "care" wasn't in his dictionary.
Just not "care" the words like- "love , like , kind , fear , good, peace , jealousy..." is not available in his dictionary because he was never loved , there was no peace in his life from the beginning when he was just a child.