The Perfect Trap

"Jane, join us for dinner tonight."

Her boss's voice had been casual, friendly even, as she stood by Jane's desk. "A few of us are going out. You've been through a lot lately, and I thought it might be good for you to relax."

Jane had hesitated, but the warmth in her boss's smile eased her doubts. "That sounds nice," she had replied, unaware of the snare tightening around her.

That evening, as she sat in the upscale restaurant, she found herself glancing at the entrance. Her colleagues were late. Her boss had texted a few minutes ago, saying she'd be there soon.

Jane sighed, swirling the drink in her glass before taking a sip. The sweetness coated her tongue, pleasant and familiar. But then—

A sudden wave of dizziness.

She blinked, trying to focus. The restaurant blurred, colors smudging together. Her fingers trembled as she set the glass down, her pulse quickening. Something was wrong.

Her head swam. The lights overhead felt too bright, the sounds too far away. She tried to stand, but her knees buckled. A shadow loomed over her, strong hands catching her before she could collapse.

Paul's voice, smooth and coaxing, slipped into her fading consciousness.

"I've got you, Jane."

The world around her darkened.

The dim room smelled of stale cologne and expensive liquor. Jane stirred, her limbs heavy, her head pounding as if she had been underwater for hours. The air was thick, suffocating, unfamiliar.

A rustle of movement.

She tried to sit up, but her body wouldn't obey. The weight of the fabric around her shoulders felt wrong, loose. Her skin prickled with unease.

Then she saw it.

Her clothes—scattered across the floor in careless disarray.

Her breath hitched in her throat. Fear clawed its way up her spine as she turned her head, her sluggish vision adjusting to the dim lighting.

Paul.

He sat on the edge of the bed, clad in nothing but a bathrobe, his posture eerily calm.

Panic slammed into her like a freight train.

"What…" Her voice came out weak, hoarse. "What did you do?"

Paul met her gaze, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "Nothing."

He ran a hand through his hair, the faux guilt in his expression making her stomach churn. "You passed out, Jane. I brought you here to rest."

Her pulse pounded against her ribs. "Where are my colleagues? Where is my boss?"

"They're not coming."

His words were a death knell.

Jane's breath came in quick, shallow gasps. No. No. No.

"You don't have to be afraid," Paul continued, his tone unnervingly soft. "I just wanted a chance to be with you. To show you that Nick doesn't deserve you. He's been lying to you all along."

She tried to move, but her limbs were weak. The drug still lingered in her system, dulling her strength.

Paul reached for her wrist.

Jane flinched.

A dark smile touched his lips.

"You're mine now, Jane."

Nick's pulse raced as he entered the hotel lobby, a strange heaviness pressing down on him. Every instinct screamed that something was wrong. He scanned the room, his eyes darting from the check-in counter to the exit. His heart pounded.

He approached the receptionist, his voice steady but betraying his underlying panic. "Have you seen this woman?" He slid a picture of Jane across the counter, his hands trembling slightly.

The receptionist glanced at the photo, her expression blank, but her eyes flickered with something he couldn't quite read. "She left with a man… a few minutes ago," she said flatly, as if the words were too casual for the weight they carried.

Nick felt his breath catch in his throat. "Was it him?" He slid another picture, this time of Paul, his voice urgent, desperate.

She looked at the photo again, her eyes momentarily tightening. "Yes," she said, her voice cold. She didn't look up from the counter, her tone giving away no emotion, as if she had been paid to act as indifferent as possible.

Every cell in Nick's body screamed. His stomach dropped. A fire ignited deep inside him, hot and furious, burning through every thought. His mind raced, his body already in motion before he could fully process the news.

"Where did they go?" he demanded, his voice sharp, too loud for the quiet lobby.

The receptionist's gaze flicked up briefly, her expression hardening as if she regretted answering at all. "I don't know. But they left in a hurry."

The door. He was heading straight for the exit, barely hearing her voice as it trailed behind him. His feet pounded against the floor, each step fueled by the growing panic twisting in his chest.

The door's glass glinted in front of him like a barrier between him and Jane. He couldn't lose her again. Not like this.

Nick's hands shot out, pushing open the door with brutal force, the cool night air hitting him like a slap to the face. His heart slammed against his ribs, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

She's out there.

His legs burned as he sprinted toward the street, the world blurring around him. His mind raced through the possibilities, images of Jane, vulnerable and alone, flashing in his head.

Every step he took felt like it could be too late.

He looked down the street, eyes scanning every shadow. His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he didn't stop to check it. He couldn't. Not now.

He had to find her. He had to make sure she was safe.

"Jane." The name left his mouth like a desperate plea. He couldn't lose her to him, not when they had just begun their life together.

The streets stretched endlessly in front of him, the night closing in.

Nick's fingers clenched around his phone, knuckles turning white as he paced relentlessly. The constant beeping of unanswered calls only fueled the fury boiling inside him. Each second that passed felt like a blade slicing deeper into his chest.

"Pick up, damn it!" he snarled, his voice hoarse with frustration.

Nothing.

His heart pounded against his ribs, a caged beast ready to break free. The silence was suffocating. He raked a hand through his hair, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Where the hell is she? He needed to find her. Now.

….

A soft golden light filtered through the curtains, bathing the unfamiliar room in an eerie glow. The warmth on her skin felt foreign, wrong. Jane's lashes fluttered, her mind heavy with a haze she couldn't place.

Then, a shift beside her.

Her body tensed.

A slow, creeping dread slithered through her veins. She turned her head—her breath caught in her throat.

Paul.

Lying beside her.

Jane's scream tore through the quiet morning, raw and full of terror. Her pulse spiked as she scrambled back, the silk sheets tangling around her legs like shackles. No, no, this can't be happening!

"What are you doing here?!" she shrieked, her voice cracking as she hurled a pillow at him, then another, her hands shaking too much to aim. She didn't care. The room blurred with her panic. Anything she could grab—blankets, even her discarded dress—became a weapon against the nightmare unfolding before her.

Paul sat up slowly, watching her with something that looked almost like regret—but she didn't care.

Her breath hitched as she looked down.

Her body. Her almost naked body covered with just a bathrobe beneath the sheets.

No.

Her stomach churned violently, as though it were being twisted from the inside out. Her hands gripped the fabric of her clothes, clutching it to her chest in an attempt to hold herself together. But it was no use. A sob ripped through her, jagged and raw. 

She was shaking now, her whole body trembling as she fought to draw in steady breaths. The walls of the room seemed to close in, the floor beneath her feet unsteady. She couldn't escape it, couldn't escape him. What happened? What did he do to me?

She reached out for her clothes, hands shaking as she yanked them up, not caring if they fit or not. She was just trying to cover herself, trying to feel some semblance of control. Stumbling, she hurried toward the bathroom, her bare feet making soft, barely audible sounds against the cold marble floor.

The door slammed shut behind her, and she locked it with shaking fingers, the click of the lock louder than it should have been in the silent space. 

A choked sob tore from her throat as she pressed her forehead against the bathroom mirror. Her reflection stared back at her—wide-eyed, broken. This isn't real. This isn't happening. She gasped for air, her chest rising and falling erratically. 

Paul's voice was muffled through the door. "Jane… just listen to me."

She pressed her hands against her ears. No. No. No.

Minutes passed before she forced herself to move. Dressed now, she squared her shoulders, wiping her tear-streaked face before storming out.

Paul stood near the bed, his expression unreadable.

"Let me go," she demanded in a rough voice.

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Jane, I—"

"Shut up!" Her eyes darted around the room, desperate for something—anything—to use. Then she saw it. The ceramic vase by the nightstand.

Without a second thought, she grabbed it, raising it above her head. "What did you do to me?"

Luke's jaw tightened. He didn't flinch. Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

The screen lit up.

Jane froze.

Her breath hitched as she stared at the images—her lying beside him, a soft, sleepy smile on her face, nestled close.

The vase slipped from her fingers, shattering at her feet.

Her heart pounded painfully against her ribs. Her stomach twisted into knots so tight she felt like she might throw up.

"You… drugged me?" she whispered, her voice barely a breath.

Paul held her gaze, his own dark and filled with something she couldn't place.

"Yes."

Jane's breath hitched as she stared at Paul, her mind struggling to process the monstrous reality unfolding before her.

"Did you—" her voice cracked, horror stealing her breath. "Did you rape me?"

Her hands trembled, her nails digging into her palms as she braced herself for the answer.

Paul's jaw tightened, his silence louder. He might be obsessed over her but he wouldn't dare to do anything to her against her will. He thought but he couldn't say it out loud. 

Tears streamed down her cheeks, her body wracked with tremors.

"How could you?" she sobbed, anger and heartbreak crashing into her like a tidal wave.

Paul took a step forward, his voice sharp, almost pleading. "Jane, I need you to calm down and listen to me for once."

"Calm down?" Her voice cracked as she recoiled from him. "You ruined my life!"

His face contorted with frustration. 

"I saved your life, and this is how you repay me?" Jane let out a bitter, humorless laugh, her vision blurring with tears.

Paul's expression hardened. "You belong with me."

Her breath stilled. A cold chill crawled down her spine.

"What?" she whispered, disbelief gripping her like an iron fist.

"I really hoped things wouldn't come to this," he admitted, regret flickering in his dark eyes. "But I had no choice. I love you, Jane."

"Stop it!" she screamed, fury and fear intertwining like a noose around her throat. "This is not love!"

Paul exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. "You don't have a choice anymore."

Jane's stomach churned, dread swirling inside her like a violent storm.

"If I release these pictures," he continued, his voice a cruel whisper, "you'll never be with Nick. No one will believe you, Jane. In these photos, you look happy. The world only believes what it sees."

Jane's hands balled into fists at her sides. "Nick will believe me."

Paul smirked. "Will he? Even if he does, his family won't. And even if they do, what about the media? What about his company? Nick just became chairman. If this gets out, he'll be seen as the villain—the man who stole his director's woman. And you? You'll be the greedy little gold digger who played them both."

Jane shook her head, stepping back as if she could escape his words, but they wrapped around her like chains, unrelenting and cold.

"What do you want from me?" she rasped, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paul's lips curled into a slow, deliberate smile. "Marry me."

Jane's blood turned to ice.

"Never." The word left her mouth like a dagger. "I would rather die."

Paul's face darkened. In a blink, he was in front of her, his hands wrapping around her throat—not tight enough to choke her, but enough to make her freeze in terror.

"Do you think I'd allow that?" His voice was eerily calm, his grip possessive. "You belong to me."

Jane gasped, her pulse thundering in her ears. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to move, to push him away, but she couldn't. His grip tightened, his fingers pressing just enough to remind her that he was in control.

"I would do anything for you, Jane. Anything." His breath ghosted against her ear, warm and sickening. His fingers dug deeper into her arms, sending a shiver of fear down her spine.

"If you want to protect yourself—and him—do as I say." His voice dropped, a slow, venomous whisper. "Because if you don't…" He leaned in closer, his lips almost grazing her skin. "You will lose everything."

Jane's breath hitched.

"Don't you remember the press release? What if people see this picture now?" His voice was laced with cruel amusement. "Will they still believe you? And Nick… he defended you, didn't he? Stood up for you like a fool." He chuckled, low and dangerous. "Imagine what will happen to him. His career. His reputation. His entire future—shattered. And it will all be because of you."

A strangled sob escaped Jane's lips. Her body trembled, her mind spinning as the weight of his words pressed down on her like an iron cage.

"Please," she whimpered, barely able to speak through the lump in her throat. "Leave him alone."

Paul's grip loosened slightly, but his victory was already written across his face. "Then promise me," he murmured, voice coaxing, almost gentle.

Jane's lips quivered. She felt like she was drowning, suffocating under the nightmare he had so carefully constructed around her.

"Promise me, Jane." His voice was softer now, laced with false warmth. As if he were offering her salvation instead of chains.

Her heart cracked, shattered into a million jagged pieces as she forced herself to nod.

A sick, satisfied smile curled at the edges of his lips. "That's a good girl."

Jane stood there, frozen in place. 

No escape. No hope.

Paul had won.