Charlotte had been bound for God knows how long, and her limbs had long since drifted into a painful numbness. She had thrashed against the restraints until her skin burned and the coarse fabric threatened to slice through her wrists and ankles. Finally, exhausted and trembling, she went limp, trying to conserve what little energy she had left.

Outside the door, the villa was eerily silent. She surmised that the maids and bodyguards, well-aware of Zachary’s volcanic temper, were currently walking on eggshells, terrified of sparking another explosion.

Suddenly, her phone vibrated on the bedside table. She could see Michael’s name flashing on the screen. A surge of desperation hit her; she wiggled her arm frantically, trying to snag the device with her fingertips, but the ties were too short. She could only stare blankly at the screen until the light faded and the call disconnected.

Hours crawled by. Suddenly, a stray beam of light danced across her window from the darkness outside. Her heart leaped—it had to be Michael signaling her! She tried to scream, to bang her head against the headboard, but the gag in her mouth reduced her pleas to muffled, pathetic whimpers.

In a final, frantic effort, she tried to shift her entire weight to move the heavy bed or knock over the ceramic vase nearby to create a signal. But the furniture was solid, and her restraints were absolute. She was a bird in a cage, watching her only hope flicker and then—abruptly—vanish.

The sound of a car engine ignited in the distance. Are they leaving?

Charlotte let out a series of desperate, muffled cries, praying the sound would carry through the glass. But the engine note faded into the night, leaving her in total, crushing despair. She stared at the ceiling, her mind teetering on the edge of an emotional collapse.

Knock. Knock.

The door groaned open, and Raina entered, pushing a medical trolley.

"Mmph! Mmph!" Charlotte pleaded with her eyes, seeing the doctor as a potential savior.

Raina turned on the light, her expression unreadable. She stepped to the bed and gently removed the gag from Charlotte’s mouth.

"Dr. Langhan, please," Charlotte gasped, her voice hoarse. "Let me go. I beg you."

"I cannot do that without Mr. Nacht's permission," Raina replied calmly, holding a cup with a straw to Charlotte’s parched lips.

After taking a few desperate sips, Charlotte tried again. "Please... there must be some mercy in you. Just untie me."

"Ms. Windt, fighting Mr. Nacht is a pointless struggle," Raina said, her voice tinged with a strange kind of pity. "The more you resist, the tighter he will hold on. You are only hurting yourself—and the people you care about."

Charlotte froze. "What do you mean? What has he done? Did he... did he hurt my children? Is Michael okay?"

"Ms. Windt..."

"You really do care about him, don't you?"

The voice came from the doorway. Zachary leaned against the frame, a devious, cold sneer playing on his lips. "I hadn't actually planned to do anything to them yet," he drawled, "but thank you for the reminder."

He turned his head slightly toward the hallway. "Has the Brown family’s car cleared the gates? Catch them. Now."

"Mr. Nacht—" Ben began.

"NO!" Charlotte screamed, her body jerking against the bedsheets. "Zachary, don't do this! Don't be rash!"

"Seize them!" Zachary barked, his eyes flashing with a predatory light.

"Right away," Ben nodded, turning to carry out the order.

"I’m begging you!" Charlotte’s voice broke into a sob. "This has nothing to do with him! Please don't hurt Michael... just let them go!"

"And why should I?" Zachary stepped into the room, grinning like a demon. "If the children are his, he’s already crossed a line he can’t come back from."

"I..." Charlotte was stumped, her mind reeling.

Zachary raised his hand, signaling Ben to proceed with the interception.

In that moment of pure terror, Charlotte’s last shred of pride snapped. "Wait! I'll do it! I'll obey everything you say! I’ll submit, I’ll stay, I’ll do whatever you want! Just... please don't harm my family or my friends. I beg of you..."

Zachary’s hand stayed in the air, signaling a temporary halt to the order. He strolled toward the bed, his presence overwhelming the small space. Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Raina silently pushed her trolley out of the room and closed the door.

Zachary stared down at the broken woman tied to the bed. "So," he whispered, "is he a friend? Or is he family?"

"A friend," Charlotte choked out, her face wet with tears. "It was... a mistake from years ago. We’re just ordinary friends now."

Seeing the icy, unconvinced look in his eyes, she closed them and made her final vow. "From now on... I am yours. Yours alone."