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A/N: thought I'd post the chapter a little earlier bc I have a test at 12 (yes, I know. Which psycho has a test on a Sunday? idk ask my online prof 🤦🏽‍♀️).

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Laila's POV

So many restrictions, so many that I have to watch my back inside the house.

I couldn't text anyone for help, I couldn't call, I couldn't do anything without putting others or myself in danger.

That night, I did eat the sandwich he brought me. I ate it without complaining. When it was time to sleep, he didn't come back to the room and I didn't want to sleep on this bed.

I grab the extra blanket I kept in the closet and fell asleep on the couch, or at least tried to.

• • •

A few weeks pass by and I don't dare to go against his wishes. Every night I would go to sleep on the couch and would wake up in the same spot. I would look over at the bed and it would always be untouched.

I rarely see Alex at home anymore. I don't even know if he comes home.

How horrible could the secret he's hiding be? It was enough to make him go berserk, Laila. Obviously, it's horrible enough.

On the days I had to leave the house, I made sure to touch all the bases: text him where I'm going, if I'm going with anyone and be back before 4:30 PM because 5:00 PM is cutting it too close.

He never texts back confirming anything but it says that he read it so I go along with it.

Maryam had started to suspect something was wrong, nothing gets past her when it comes to my troubles.

I blamed it on the assignments from school and the fact that being a PhD student is tough. She seemed to have bought it... for now.

One afternoon, I went out to buy some snacks because I ate all the ones we had at home.

I have the tendency to stress-eat. Whenever I get anxious, I just grab a snack and once the eating starts, my nerves seem to calm down. Weird, I know.

It's 4:15 PM but the grocery store is only a 10 minute drive. I'll be back before 4:50 PM, Insh'Allah (if Allah wills it).

I text him about my whereabouts and I leave.

By 4:35 PM, I finished getting snacks and as I was about to walk back to my car, I see Noah standing by my car.

I haven't seen Noah in a while. Probably because I don't leave the house at night anymore and he works night shifts at the neighbourhood's gates.

I smile and wave at him. When I finally reach my car, I greet him. "Hi, Noah! How are you?"

He grins at me. He has this boyish charm that's really adorable. "You're a Mrs. Romano now, huh? Too fancy to come say hi to a friend?"

"Oh my! No way! I promise it's because I don't leave the house in the evenings much anymore!" I explain myself.

"It's okay. I was just teasing you. I see you secured the bag?" He smirks.

"I—what?"

He laughs. "Married rich and now you have all the money in the world to buy food."

"Noah!" I frown he would think of me in such a way.

"I'm kidding! I know you're not the type. I knew you'd be able to sway Mr. Romano to make him fall for you."

I wish that was the case, Noah. I really do wish.

I laugh nervously. "Ha! No one can resist me and my addictive charm."

"You're charm is so alluring, Mrs. Romano!" He says as he bats his eyes dramatically.

"You mean, Laila. You know I asked you to call me Laila before." I correct him.

His smile drops for just a slight second. "Uh, no can do, Miss. Mr. Romano will have my head on a stick if I call his wife by her name without his permission."

"Who does he think he is—I want to be called by my name." I huff.

"Sorry, he's a scary guy. Don't want to piss him off." He says.

I understand. I made that mistake a couple of times, and am still paying for it.

Noah wanted my number so we can stay in touch. I hesitated at first but then I knew Noah's harmless.

We continue to laugh for a few minutes about hilarious jokes that he cracked. It feels like I haven't laughed so openly in a really long time. My few minutes of bliss came to an end when I suddenly gasp.

"Noah, what time is it?" I'm sure my face gave off a frantic expression because he whipped out his phone fairly quickly.

"Uh, 4:48 PM, why?" He asks.

I feel the blood drain from my body and instantly turn cold. I won't make it back home on time.

"Are you okay?" He asks this time with concern in his eyes.

"I-I have to go home. I'm s-sorry. It was nice catching up to you! Bye!" I technically throw my snacks in the trunk and run to get inside the car.

I couldn't hear if Noah said anything after I said goodbye because my heart was thumping so loudly that I couldn't hear anything else.

As I get on the road, I take a glance at the clock on the dashboard and it says 4:50 PM.

No, no, no!

It's rush hour; this not good, it is not good. I try to listen to some music to calm my nerves so I don't get into an accident from how nervous I am.

I'm about five minutes away from home when I get a call and I swear I couldn't feel my limbs anymore. When I look at the screen, I see that it's Sophie.

I pick up. "H-hello?"

"Hi, I just wanted to say Mr. Romano told me to let you know that he wants you to wait for him in the theatre room." Sophie says.

"Why didn't he call me h-himself?" I ask.

"I think he was in the middle of work and since I was already on the phone with him, he just told me to tell you." She states.

I sigh a breath of relief. He's not at home right now. But what about the cameras? I'm sure he doesn't watch it 24/7. He's a busy surgeon, there's no way he has time for this.

Wait, why do I have to go to the theatre room? Wait—we have a theatre room? Since when?

"Uh... Sophie?"

"Yes?"

"Where's the theatre room?"

"Oh my, no one told you about that room? I guess it slipped Sir's mind because he doesn't use it often enough." Sophie then proceeds to tell me where it is.

What does he want to do in a theatre room? I mean, yes, it's for movies but as Sophie said, he doesn't have time for movies. Unless he decided he wants to suddenly watch a movie...

Something is making me feel really uneasy about this.

I hang up the phone and quickly park the car inside the garage. I look at the clock one last time 5:10 PM.

Once I open the door of the leading from the garage to the inside of the house, the house is silent.

My palms become sweaty and my heart is pounding so hard that I swear you can hear it throughout the whole house.

It doesn't look like anyone's home—

"Good evening, Mrs. Romano." A voice greets me from the kitchen.

Ya Allah, no.

"Would you know what time it is, by any chance?"

Please, no...

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A/N: Shit, Laila. FRICK. RUN! SAVE YOURSELF!

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