𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 || 𝐉.𝐉𝐊 ✓

⊘ • ❺❸ • ⊘

𓆩・༺ ꔫ ༻・𓆪

A few days went by, and I haven't seen Ghost at all. The closest human interaction I've had is when one of his men brings a tray of food for me, but even then, he never speaks despite me trying to have a conversation with him.

It's been maybe four or five days, maybe longer. It's hard to tell when there's no way to count the days or the time. I've attempted to try figuring out the schedule when I'm brought food, but I've realized it's never a set time, so it was pointless.

There's no window to see the sun or moon, no sounds that can tell me when people are awake or going to sleep. There's nothing except my theories.

I've already accepted my fate, but if I'm forced to continue to live, I'm at least going to try and keep myself sane. I need to keep myself occupied, but there's nothing to do, and being left alone with one's thoughts for so long isn't healthy. At least for me, it's not.

I sit on the bed in my pajamas with my fake hair all knotted in the back. What's the point in brushing it or anything anymore? I'm going to die here, and no one back home will ever know.

When the sealed door starts to crack open with a metallic creak, I keep my eyes still as I watch someone walk through it. I would rather see the guy carrying in my crappy food rather than Ghost, but it doesn't matter what I want.

"How are you feeling?" Ghost asks once shutting and locking the door behind him. I say nothing when he looks at me, so he keeps talking. "I apologize for not coming a few days ago. I got caught up with work. We're still trying to get everything settled, and I'm sorry for the food shortage. I've sent some men to retrieve more and better food."

His voice is light and soft when he speaks to me, but I know it's an illusion.

"You can drop the act. As soon as I give you what you want, you're going to kill me. I heard you talking when we first met again." When I say that, he shakes his head a tad disappointed and walks over where he pulls out the chair from the table, sitting in front of me.

He sits in silence for a brief moment, twiddling his fingers while thinking.

"I don't want to kill you, Vee. I really don't, but if you keep hating me, then I'll have no choice but to do it. If I let you live with the way you're treating me now, our child is going to grow up in a horrible home if we're constantly arguing. I won't allow my child to live in an environment like that—"

"Stop talking about a child who doesn't exist." I cut him off, feeling sick listening to him talk about it so lightly.

"Fine, our future child, happy?" His tone rises, but he shuts his eyes for a moment and calms down. "My point is that if you keep treating me this way, I'll have to kill you after you give birth. However, if you come around and love me like a partner should, then I'll let you live if you can prove you love me."

This time I stand from the bed and walk away from him as far as my chain can reach. "If you think doing this will make me, or any other woman, love you, then you're wrong. I won't fight because I know it doesn't matter; I'm stuck here, but I won't let you touch me. I would rather kill myself."

He chuckles while looking at me. "Okay, we'll work on us first. What do you want? What will make you happy? And don't give me any of that set-me-free bullshit. Tell me something I can actually give you.