“Damien… You are back…” Candice said delightedly, her toothy grin bright against the warm light of the hallway. She was dressed in a pastel-colored frock, the thin cotton brushing against her knees, her hair twisted into a messy bun with a few strands falling across her flushed cheeks.

The man, Damien, walked past her without even looking up, the faint scuff of his shoes on the marble floor trailing behind him. He handed over his suitcase, the handle warm from his grip.

“I have made your favorite dinner. Come fast,” she said again, unfazed by his coldness. Her voice carried a hopeful lilt.

He paused by the staircase for a few moments, raising her hope, but then moved away again without sparing her a glance.

She didn’t mind him. She turned and walked into the kitchen, her slippers whispering against the tiles as she quietly brought the dishes to the dining table.

She stood near the chair, her hands folded in front of her, waiting.

He came back, maybe a few minutes later, and gave her a small nod.

She started serving him, the spoon lightly tapping the plate as she ladled the steaming rice. He began eating wordlessly, each bite slow and deliberate.

He nodded again. She sat down on the chair across from him and began serving herself, but a painful hiss slipped from her lips, cutting through the quiet like a knife.

“Applied your medicines today?” he spoke to her for the first time, his tone flat but edged with something she couldn’t place.

“Ye… Yeah.” Her smile never left her face. Not for a second.

“Okay… It will heal soon.”

She nodded and started taking food into her mouth. A small slam of his hand against the table made her freeze mid-motion.

“Yes… Yes… It would…” she replied, shivering, but still grinning.

He resumed eating, apparently satisfied by the answer.

The dim light overhead flickered, casting long shadows across the table and throwing fleeting lines across his expressionless face.

“You have become a good cook. I love the chicken today,” Damien said, patting her head with a heavy hand that smelled faintly of cologne.

“Thank you. I will also try different dishes for you. What else do you want to eat?” she asked with genuine interest, almost genuine.

“I would say if I crave anything,” he said, his eyes sliding from her face to her collarbone, then lingering at the edge of her neckline before meeting her gaze again. She forced her smile to stay, her hands trembling faintly as she picked up her fork again.

“For now… it’s you,” he continued unintentionally, and she froze, a shiver running through her shoulders.

She started to stand, but he stopped her with a quick gesture.

“First finish eating. I don’t want you sick.”

She slowly sat back down, her breath catching in her throat as she began hurriedly swallowing spoonfuls of rice, barely tasting them.

Then, as soon as she finished, she rose and slipped away toward their room, her footsteps quick and nearly silent. He followed at a slower pace, a low chuckle escaping him as he climbed the stairs, his steps deliberate and predatory.

By the time he entered, she was already on the bed, waiting for him, her arms extended in a silent invitation.

Her posture was obedient. Welcoming.

Her throat moved as she swallowed hard, but the smile was still there, plastered across her face.

“My doll… Always ready for me,” he murmured, sitting beside her.

He cupped her chin in one large hand, his touch warm and almost soft.

He planted a kiss on her forehead, then her nose, then her lips.

When he drew back, her eyes were closed, her breathing shallow and uneven.

He watched her face, captivated by her stillness, before leaning in to capture her lips again.

Suddenly, a sharp sound interrupted their moment like thunder cracking the air. He looked around in confusion as her face slowly dissolved, vanishing into nothingness.

“Candy? Where are you going?”

“Candice! Stop right there!”

“CANDICE!”

The room began to feel colder, a creeping chill spreading across the walls as the lights blinked out one by one.

The beautiful space she had filled with soft colors darkened into shadow.

The man sleeping at the foot of the bed woke up with a jerk, his breath ragged, his hands cold as ever.

The room was filled with darkness.

He looked toward the bed, a faint hope rising that she would be there, curled beneath the blankets, her soft snores breaking the silence.

But it was the same crinkled sheet, carrying only the fading trace of her perfume.

“Candy, stop… Please come back… My buttercup,” he whispered more to himself than to the empty room.

He was about to stand when the shrill sound screeched again, making him flinch.

“Maybe it’s Candice,” he whispered, though he knew it wasn’t.

He pushed himself up from the floor with a hiss as pain shot up his neck, but he ignored it, searching frantically for his phone.

Robert – Assistant, said the glowing screen.

“Yes,” Damien answered, his voice hoarse.

“Si… Sir… Sorry to disturb you so early,” the person on the other end stammered.

“Did you call me to apologize?”

“N… No… It’s about the meeting with the Singapore client. It’s scheduled in two hours,” Robert said, crossing his fingers as if the gesture could protect him from his boss’s wrath.

“Cancel it,” Damien replied, his tone flat and final.

“But sir, why? It’s very urgent.”

“Now I have to explain myself to you before doing things?”

“No… No, sir. Absolutely not. I’ll handle it.”

“Not only this. Cancel all meetings for two days.”

“Oh… Okay, sir.”

After the call ended, Damien immediately dialed another number.

“Bloody hell! Why are you so inefficient?” he screamed, his voice echoing in the dark room, veins tightening across his forehead.

“I’m trying, sir. Maybe someone is helping her. There’s no trace of her,” the other person stammered, sounding like he was holding his breath.

“Nick! If you can’t find her in one hour, consider yourself gone.”

“Sir… Sir… Listen to me… Just give me a few more hours. I will find madam…”

“One hour it is.”

The call ended with a click.

“Idiot,” Nick cursed under his breath.

Damien didn’t hear him. He tossed the phone aside and pressed the heel of his hand to his eyes. He could still see her there, arms open, her face resigned.

Every moment without her felt like hell.

He stood, walked to the bathroom, and turned on the shower. Water poured over his hands, ice-cold, but it didn’t wash away the tightness pressing against his chest.

She belonged to him.

And no matter what it took, he would bring her back.

“Wherever you are… just hold on, darling.”

“DAD… MOM!” Damien entered his parents’ mansion, his voice cracking as it echoed off the marble.

“Hey… Damien.” A man descended the staircase, footsteps slow. “Happy to see you here, son.”

But his expression was anything but happy.

“Cut the chase, Dad. Where is Candice? Did she come here?”

“She ran away? Glad she did…” A woman in her fifties spoke from behind Damien, clapping her hands lightly.

“It’s not the time to joke, Mom,” Damien said, barely controlling the tremor in his voice.

“Who said I’m joking? I’m really glad she did,” she said, sitting elegantly on the central chair, smoothing her skirt with deliberate care.

“MOM!” Damien’s voice boomed, reverberating up to the chandelier.

“Enough, you two,” Sunny George, his father, intervened.

“Damien… We don’t know where she is. Go and find her instead of wasting time here. Maybe she’s in trouble. Maybe she needs you, son.”

“If I find out you people are hiding her, you’ll know how much of a devil your son is.”

“Ahh. We already know that, SON,” his mother replied, emphasizing the last word.

Damien stared at her, then turned to leave.

“Damien.”

He stopped without looking back.

“Find her soon. She is precious to us. To both me and your mom,” his father said.

Damien stood still, breathing quietly.

“And when you do… don’t hurt her. Please,” Elena, his mother, added, her voice softer.

Damien turned to face them, and for the first time in years, they saw something break across his expression. Before they could place what it was, he had already masked it again.

He left with a small nod.

His parents watched the car’s taillights disappear down the drive.

“What do you think, darling?” Sunny asked, still staring through the glass.

“About what?” Elena raised her brows.

“Will he ever change?”

“Honey, I don’t have any hope from him now.”

“I just pray the sweet girl is alright, wherever she is. And…”

“And Damien never finds her?”

“Yes. We all know what he did the last time we tried to give her some space.”

Sunny nodded slowly, while Elena laid her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes and hoping Candice was safe and far away.