The office was made of glass and silence.
From his corner suite, Roman Ashborne watched the skyline sprawl beneath a gray morning haze. The city pulsed. Phones rang. Suits hurried . Elevators blinked.
Everyone moved as if they were free.
Roman liked that.
He liked the illusion of freedom.
He built empires on it.
He didn't sit behind the desk. He never sat.
Power wasn't something you relaxed into. It was something you wore. Like a coat. Or a name.
Ashborne Industries didn't run itself. But most days, it seemed like it did. His presence was more a myth than a necessity. A shadow in the boardroom. A signature no one dared to question.
Today, he stayed longer than usual.
Not because of meetings.
But because he couldn't stop thinking about her.
---
He could still see her from last night.
Serene with her braid undone, her hands trembling as she buttered Lelo's toast. Her voice quieter. Her eyes slower. Her spine just beginning to bend.
She was breaking, yes.
But beautifully.
He picked up the phone.
"Send in the analyst," he said.
A woman walked in five minutes later. Polished. Professional. She handed him a manila file without a word.
Inside: updates from the surveillance unit near the university. Facial recognition logs. Class recordings. Routine summaries.
Roman flipped through them like old love letters.
"She's been reported missing," the analyst said softly. "But there's no police search. Her family thinks she went abroad for an internship. One friend seems suspicious."
He tapped Idris' name.
Crossed it out.
"That won't be a problem," he murmured.
Then paused.
Closed the file.
---
> "Bring her back."
The woman blinked. "Sir?"
Roman's voice was calm. Crisp.
> "Let her return to class. Let her smell air. Walk in shoes. Speak to shadows. Let her feel like she's won something."
"But the exposure—"
"I said bring her back."
He smiled, the kind that could split skin without teeth.
"Cages are more effective when the bird thinks she has a door."
---
That night, Roman returned home.
Serene was in the library, pretending to read.
He didn't interrupt.
Just walked past, then paused at the threshold.
"I had the school contacted," he said over his shoulder.
She froze.
He didn't look at her.
"You start again Monday. Classes. Café. Normal life."
Her voice cracked: "Why?"
"Because you've been very, very good."
And then he left her there.
Book shaking in her hands.
Heart pounding in her chest.
---