Hostage

The next day, as the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, Lila's eyes fluttered open. The world around her was a blur of muted colors and unfamiliar shapes. Her head throbbed with a dull, persistent pain, and her body felt like it was weighed down by lead. As she tried to move, a sharp pain shot through her side, and she winced, biting back a cry.

Slowly, she became aware of the room around her. It was richly furnished, the air heavy with the scent of burning incense. The bed she lay in was soft, the sheets luxurious, but there was something off—something that made her skin crawl with unease. She tried to recall where she was, how she had gotten here, but her mind was blank, an empty canvas devoid of any recognizable features.

Before she could process her situation further, the door creaked open. A man entered the room, his presence commanding and cold. His eyes gleamed with a sinister light, and a cruel smile played at the corners of his lips.

"Good morning," he said, his voice dripping with false warmth. He approached the bed, his gaze never leaving her face. "I see you're finally awake."

Lila's heart raced, an instinctual sense of fear tightening in her chest. She stared at the man, struggling to recognize him, but there was nothing—no memory, no sense of familiarity. Just a void where her past should have been.

"Who... who are you?" she managed to whisper, her voice weak and trembling. The words felt foreign on her tongue, as if she hadn't spoken in a long time.

The man chuckled, a sound that sent chills down her spine. He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down, leaning forward with an air of casual arrogance.

"I'm Mateo," he said, his smile widening. "Your husband."

The word husband echoed in Lila's mind, but it felt wrong, like a piece of a puzzle forced into a space where it didn't belong. She searched his face, hoping for some flicker of recognition, but there was nothing. Just that gnawing, uneasy feeling deep in her gut.

"My... husband?" she repeated, the doubt clear in her voice.

Mateo nodded, his smile never wavering. "That's right. We've been through so much together, my dear. It's no wonder you're a bit confused after everything that happened."

Lila's mind raced, trying to grasp onto any shred of memory, anything that could confirm his words. But all she felt was a growing sense of dread. The way he spoke, the way he looked at her—it all felt wrong. And yet, she couldn't remember why.

As Mateo continued to speak, telling her stories that felt like lies, Lila's unease grew. There was something about this man that made her skin crawl, something dark and menacing that lurked beneath his charming facade.

She forced herself to nod along, pretending to accept his words, but inside, her thoughts were frantic. 'I don't know him', she thought, her fear mounting with each passing moment. 'I don't know him at all… but why does he claim to know me?'

Mateo reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, and Lila had to fight the urge to recoil. Every instinct in her body screamed at her to get away, but she was trapped, both by her injuries and by the suffocating fog that clouded her mind.

"You'll remember soon enough," Mateo said, his voice soothing but with an undercurrent of something darker. "And when you do, you'll understand everything."

Lila forced a weak smile. 

As Lila listened to Mateo's smooth, deceptive words, a cold realization settled into her bones. She didn't know who she was, didn't remember her past, but she could sense the danger that surrounded her. It was as if every fiber of her being was screaming out in warning.

'One thing is clear,' she thought, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and resolve, 'he's the man who's going to kill me.'

Her eyes remained fixed on Mateo as he spoke, but her mind was racing. The unease she felt wasn't just a vague sense of wrongness—it was a deep, visceral fear. Mateo's eyes held a darkness that promised violence, his smile a mask for the malice underneath. She could tell he was playing a game with her, one she didn't fully understand, but knew she couldn't afford to lose.

'I have to be careful,' she told herself, steeling her nerves. She couldn't let him see her fear, couldn't let him know that she was already piecing together the truth. If he suspected she was onto him, he might act faster, and she was in no condition to defend herself—not yet.

For now, she needed to play along, to let him think he had the upper hand. But she also needed to find a way out, a way to survive. She had to be smart, had to be patient. 

Mateo's voice droned on, but Lila was only half-listening, her mind already working on a plan. She had to gather her strength, bide her time, and wait for the right moment. But one thing was certain—she would not let him kill her.

Not without a fight.

Mateo leaned in, his gaze locking onto Lila's with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. She didn't move as he closed the distance between them, his breath warm against her skin. Then, without warning, he pressed his lips to hers.

Lila's body tensed, her instincts screaming at her to pull away, but she forced herself to stay still. The kiss felt wrong—cold, detached, and devoid of any genuine affection. It was as if he were testing her, searching for a reaction, a sign of the fear he sought to instill in her.

Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and unease. Just moments ago, he had been speaking to her with a sinister undercurrent, hinting at the danger she was in. Now, his sudden show of tenderness felt like a contradiction, a calculated move to keep her off balance.

She hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Her lips barely moved against his, her mind warring with the need to protect herself and the uncertainty of her situation. The kiss wasn't filled with the warmth or passion she might have expected from a husband—it was more a claim, a reminder that she was his to control.

Mateo pulled back, his eyes searching hers for a reaction. Lila's heart raced as she met his gaze, trying to keep her expression neutral, to hide the turmoil she felt inside. His coldness was unsettling, a stark contrast to the possessiveness she had sensed earlier.

"Is something wrong, my dear?" Mateo asked, his voice dripping with feigned concern, though his eyes told a different story.

Lila forced a small smile, shaking her head. "No… nothing's wrong," she replied, her voice steady despite the unease gnawing at her. She needed to keep him from suspecting anything, to make him believe she was still under his control.

But deep down, she knew she had to stay on guard. Mateo was playing a dangerous game, and she was caught in the middle of it. Each moment with him was a test, and she couldn't afford to fail.