Unmasking the Heart

Adrian stood up and headed toward the door, his broad shoulders cutting through the silence of the room. A few minutes passed before I heard the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing. I remained seated, my gaze drifting to the photo frame on his desk.

The photo showed Adrian and a woman, both smiling at a beach. His smile in the photo was something I had never seen before. It wasn't the cold, detached expression I was used to. Here, he looked... happy. The woman was beautiful, radiating warmth, and they seemed like the perfect couple—so perfect, in fact, that it stung.

I felt something stir in me, an unfamiliar bitterness. Jealousy, perhaps. But I couldn't deny it. This woman, whoever she was, had Adrian's heart. And I, just a temporary fixture in his life, would never come close to being her.

I heard Adrian moving around in the bathroom, but I didn't move. My eyes kept returning to the photo, unable to look away from the image of their perfect love.

When Adrian finally stepped out, he was wrapped in a bathrobe, a towel in hand as he dried his hair. His presence filled the room with an unsettling stillness, and I quickly averted my gaze.

"What are you looking at?" His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a hint of something darker I couldn't quite place.

I hesitated, my pulse quickening, but the words slipped out before I could stop them. "I was thinking... you both look like a perfect couple."

The silence that followed was heavy. I held my breath, bracing for his reaction. When none came, I exhaled in relief, though the words still lingered in the air between us.

"Can I use your bathroom? I feel sticky," I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Hmm," was all he said, his eyes never leaving the photo frame.

I nodded, relieved by his lack of response, and made my way to the bathroom he had just vacated. I washed myself quickly, trying to rid my skin of the grime and sweat from the evening. As I stood in front of the mirror, I stared at my reflection, wondering what the hell I was doing here.

I pulled the plaster from my ankle and tossed it in the trash. It had become soaked during my shower. The sight of my bruised, swollen ankle made me wince, but I knew I had to move past the pain. There was no room for weakness here.

After wrapping myself in a towel, I grabbed another to dry my hair. The damp strands stuck to my skin as I struggled to maintain my composure, pretending I was fine when I was anything but. When I emerged, I saw Adrian sitting on the bed, his back against the headrest, his posture relaxed as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"Umm..." I began, unsure of how to address him. "I need a new set of clothes. Or you can take me back to my apartment. It's up to you."

His eyes shifted from the photo frame to me, his expression unreadable. "You can wear one of my shirts. It's too late to take you back now."

I blinked, surprised by the softness in his voice. "Thanks."

I hesitated before walking to his wardrobe. There were clothes of all kinds, neatly folded, some with a feminine touch. I quickly bypassed those, reminding myself that I was in no place to touch anything belonging to the woman in the photo. I grabbed a loose polo, big enough to cover most of me, and retreated to the bathroom to change.

When I returned, the fresh shirt hung loose on my frame, the fabric soft against my skin. I didn't feel any better, but at least I wasn't covered in grime. I made my way to the door, determined to leave, but Adrian's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Where do you think you're going?"

My heart skipped a beat. I slowly turned to face him, pretending the pain in my ankle wasn't there. "I want to sleep in the living room."

His gaze hardened. "You can sleep here."

I glanced around the room, feeling the weight of his words. There was no long couch for me to curl up on, and his bed was the only other option. My eyes flickered back to the photo on the wall, the woman's smile mocking me.

"I'm really good with the living room," I insisted, my voice trembling despite my resolve.

"And I said no." Adrian's tone was firm, cutting off any possibility of negotiation. "This is my house, and I decide what happens in it."

I bristled, trying to hold my ground. "I know that, sir. But I don't feel okay sleeping in your room with you."

Adrian's expression didn't change, but the air in the room thickened. He stood up with deliberate slowness, his large frame towering over me.

I knew what was coming before he even spoke. His voice was calm but laced with an undercurrent of menace. "You don't get to make the rules here."

I took a step back, my body screaming in protest. But before I could move further, Adrian closed the distance between us, his hand gripping my wrist with surprising strength.

"Let go of me!" I yanked away, but the pain in my foot flared, causing me to stumble. I screamed, the tears welling in my eyes, though I tried to hide the weakness.

Adrian didn't even notice my pain. His eyes were fixed on mine with a mixture of frustration and something darker. "You think you can just walk out whenever you please?" His voice was low, almost a growl.

"I never asked for any of this," I shot back, my voice shaking. "Why are you keeping me here?"

His expression softened slightly, but the tension in the air was palpable. "Because you belong to me now. And you will learn your place."

Before I could respond, his hand gripped my waist, pulling me closer to him. I pushed against him, disgust crawling up my spine, but his hold was unyielding.

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, Joi." His words were a warning, a promise of something more dark and twisted.

I tried to break free, but the room seemed to close in on me. My heart raced, but there was no escape from the prison I had willingly walked into.

Adrian stood in front of me, towering, his gaze unreadable but heavy.

"I don't want to sleep here," I said, my voice trembling but firm. "I just… I can't."

"I never said I would touch you," Adrian replied, his tone calm yet resolute.

"I don't care!" I snapped, my frustration spilling over. "I don't want to be here."

Something shifted in his eyes, and he took a deliberate step toward me. My instincts screamed to run, and before I could think it through, I darted past him, yanking the door open and bolting out into the hall.

Pain shot through my ankle, but I ignored it, pushing my body forward as fast as it would go. Adrian's voice called after me, sharp and commanding, but I didn't stop. I slammed the door behind me, leaning against it, my chest heaving.

For a moment, I thought I was safe.

Then the door flew open, nearly knocking me off balance. Adrian stepped through, his expression dark and unreadable.

"Where do you think you're going?" His voice was calm, too calm, and it made my heart race.

"I—" Before I could finish, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me back inside.

The sudden motion caused my injured ankle to give out, and I let out a sharp cry of pain. Tears welled in my eyes, and I bit my lip to keep from sobbing. Adrian stopped immediately, his grip loosening as he looked down at me.

"You're hurt." It wasn't a question, but a statement laced with something that sounded like guilt.

I tried to pull away, to put distance between us, but my body betrayed me, and I sank to the floor, clutching my ankle. Memories surged to the surface unbidden, vivid and cruel.

---

Joi's Flashback

"I never accepted anything from you!" My voice was hoarse from screaming, but I kept fighting, my hands clawing at his arm.

"You think you can take from me and just walk away?" His voice was cold, his grip on my hair unrelenting.

"Let me go!" I begged.