"I'm sorry, Aurora," Jake said in a low, unreadable voice, "but you are still my responsibility. And about breaking up…"
He paused, looking her straight in the eyes, voice chilling."I don't accept it. You're mine. So be a good girl… and eat your breakfast."
"I don't want to stay here with you, Jake," Aurora replied, trying to hold back the tears rising in her throat. "Please… try to understand."You're not going anywhere," he said firmly, his tone darkening. "I'm still taking care of you."
"No way. I have Sada—"
She froze mid-sentence, her words choking off as she realized what she just said.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes widening. "I didn't mean to bring up our loss…"
Jake stiffened, the mention of his mother slicing through the fragile calm."It's okay," he muttered, but his clenched jaw said otherwise."Are you sure?" Aurora asked softly, concern filling her gaze."I SAID I'M FINE!" he roared, the rage bursting out before he could contain it."Stop yelling at me!" she snapped, finally losing her own temper. "I want to go home, Jake! I'm not staying here anymore!"
"I made myself very clear. You're not going anywhere," he said, approaching her with controlled fury. "Now hand me your phone."
"No. Why should I? It's my phone and I'm not giving it to you!" she cried, backing away.
"Aurora, you're testing my patience," Jake growled through clenched teeth.He lunged. She gasped as he yanked the phone from her grip."Hey! That's mine! Give it back!" she shouted, holding out her hand.
"Listen closely," Jake said coldly, pocketing the phone. "You're not going to your clinic. You're the CEO—your staff will manage. You're staying in this house whether you like it or not. I won't risk losing you too."
"This is madness!" Aurora snapped. "You know how much I love my job. I have interviews, photo shoots—what is all this nonsense?! Keeping me locked in here like some prisoner while you're blabbering about needing me?"
"You want to leave?" he said, almost amused. "How? If I remember correctly, you dismissed all the bodyguards your father assigned to you and the ones outside now? They answer to me. You have no one to order around. And let's not forget… your phone is with me."
Aurora looked at him in disbelief.
"You're insane…"
Jake stepped closer, cupping her cheek, but his touch felt suffocating."Just stay with me, baby. Have your breakfast like the good girl you are… please."He sighed heavily.
"You're not even responding now? Aurora… Rora… Rora…"
He left the tray on her lap and turned, walking out with a quiet shake of his head.
One Month Later
Aurora's stay at Jake's mansion had turned into a living nightmare.The man who once loved her now treated her like a shadow—someone invisible and undeserving of comfort. Jake no longer paid attention to her. He barely spoke to her, and when he did, it was only to lash out in anger or frustration. She had become the outlet for all his bottled-up pain, and his emotional storms broke over her like thunderous waves.
Aurora wept almost every night, curled up in silence, hoping he would glance at her with even a flicker of the warmth he once had. But her tears had become meaningless to him. He never flinched. Never softened.
She tried escaping more than once—every attempt crushed by his ever-watchful guards. Each time she was caught, her spirit broke a little more. She had nowhere to go. No freedom. No control. Just four walls and the ghost of a love that now felt like chains.
Sadash's funeral was simple. Quiet. Painfully so.Aurora couldn't stop crying that day. Dressed in black, she clung to the memories of the woman who once treated her like a daughter. Her sobs shook her body. Her heart ached.Jake, on the other hand, stood motionless. His face was unreadable, blank like stone. No one could tell what he was feeling. But deep down, behind the mask, he was in ruins.
His mother was his world. Her death had torn him apart from the inside out. Since that day, he drowned himself in alcohol bottle after bottle. He stopped caring about his company. He barely acknowledged Aurora's existence. He lived in shadows, haunted by grief.
The mansion felt like a graveyard now—of love, of laughter, of everything once beautiful between them.