The night dragged on with a heavy stillness, the kind that presses against the walls and makes every breath feel heavier than the last. Each of them had gone to their rooms, shutting their doors against the weight of unspoken words and tomorrow's looming storm. Sleep, however, was a stranger to at least one of them.
Lucas paced his room like a caged lion, his bare feet padding across the cold floorboards. His hands raked through his hair as his mind ran wild with scenarios—Mel standing at the altar, Mel's eyes empty of joy, Mel bound to a fate she never chose. The thought made his chest tighten until he could hardly breathe. Finally, with a sharp inhale, he grabbed his phone.
"Ready the ship tonight," he said firmly, his voice low but trembling with urgency.
On the other end, Damian's voice hesitated. "Lucas… do you really want to go this far?"
"I don't see another way," Lucas muttered, his jaw set. "If tomorrow happens… I'll lose her forever."
Meanwhile, in another corner of the mansion, Mel lay wide awake staring at the ceiling. The suffocating silence of the house felt unbearable, the kind that screamed with the expectations her family had layered on her shoulders. Her heart ached with confusion and fear—fear of the future being forced on her, fear of losing herself.
Slowly, as if her body moved before her mind could stop it, she slipped out of bed. She left her phone behind, deliberately, knowing it would only serve as a chain that tied her back to her family. Barefoot, she tiptoed through the hallways, every creak of the floorboard making her heart pound faster. Her fingers trembled as she unlocked the side door and slipped out into the cool night.
The air outside was crisp, the moon casting a pale glow over the sprawling grounds. She pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and made her way to the car she had hidden in the shadows of the garage. Within minutes, she was driving down the deserted road, her breath catching as the trees grew denser around her. At last, the outline of the mansion appeared—her secret sanctuary, the secluded house she had bought with her own hidden funds.
There, away from her family's eyes, she could breathe. She sank onto the velvet couch, exhaustion rushing over her, and whispered into the silence, "Just one night… just one night of freedom."
By the time dawn broke, the golden rays slicing through the blinds of the main house, Luke had already been restless. He hadn't seen Mel since their return from the mall, and the unease gnawed at him. He pushed open her door softly at first, expecting to find her curled up in bed. Instead, his eyes froze on the sight before him—her phone lying abandoned on the sheets.
His stomach dropped. "Mel?" he called, his voice cracking as he rushed to check the bathroom, the closet, anywhere she might be hiding. Nothing.
A wave of panic surged through him, his blood pounding in his ears. He stumbled back into the hallway, his voice breaking through the still morning air.
The once silent house was now alive with chaos—yet for Luke, everything inside him went silent except for one truth.
"She's gone! Mel's missing!"
The words echoed through the mansion like a thunderclap, dragging everyone from their rooms. Doors flung open, footsteps thundered down the stairs, and voices rose in confusion and fear.
She had run.
And he was determined to find her.
---
Inside the secluded mansion, Mel sat by the wide glass window, her knees pulled slightly to her chest as she stared at the sun bleeding into the horizon. The golden light kissed her skin, but instead of warmth, it only reminded her of the time slipping away. Tonight was the night—her engagement party. The words themselves made her stomach twist.
She whispered to herself, almost in disbelief, "By this evening… I'm supposed to smile, laugh, and pretend I'm the happiest woman alive. Pretend this is what I wanted all along-as long as I can get away from him."
Her fingers traced absent-minded circles against the windowpane. The mansion was quiet, yet her thoughts screamed louder than any voice. She could still hear her mother's stern warnings, her father's unwavering commands, the heavy expectation wrapped around her like chains. But deep down, she knew this wasn't her choice—it was theirs.
When the shadows lengthened, she rose to prepare. From the wardrobe, she pulled out a black silky dress, the fabric smooth and dangerous against her skin. It clung to her form, whispering rebellion. As she slipped it on, the dress revealed the inked patterns on her back—the broken tattoo she had always to cover her scars. Tonight, she let it breathe, like a wound no one wanted to see.
She leaned toward the mirror, brushing a smoky shade across her eyes. The reflection staring back at her didn't look like a bride-to-be—it looked like a widow. A widow who had lost her freedom before ever truly having it. A bitter laugh escaped her lips, soft but hollow.
"Maybe this is who I've become," she murmured to her reflection, "a ghost trapped in a life I never asked for."
---
Meanwhile, the night was anything but calm elsewhere. Lucas's mind was racing as he tightened the cuffs of his shirt. Every second without Mel felt like an eternity pressing down on him. He gathered Luke, Blake, and William, his voice sharp but desperate.
"You three—head to the party," he instructed, his eyes hard but filled with a fire. "Keep them distracted. I'll keep searching for her. I'll find Mel… no matter what it takes. And when I do, I'll bring her there myself."
"Lucas, what if—" Luke started, his voice tight with worry.
"No what ifs," Lucas cut him off, though his tone cracked with the weight of fear he tried to mask. "She's out there, and she needs me."
He searched for hours, tracing empty streets, old haunts, anywhere she might have run to. Each place gave him nothing but shadows and silence. His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel until his hands ached. Finally, frustration and dread carved lines across his face. He had no choice. The party had already begun and he needs to find her before that bastard suspects anything.
By the time Lucas arrived, the venue was buzzing with light and music, laughter echoing through its gilded halls. He pulled his car to a stop, the black suit he wore hugging his frame like it was tailored by destiny itself. He stepped out slowly, his figure tall and commanding.
Immediately, the air shifted. Flashes erupted as the cameras turned toward him. The media swarmed, hungry for a glimpse of the enigmatic figure who carried storms in his eyes. Yet, Lucas barely noticed. His gaze, sharp and restless, cut through the sea of faces, searching only for her.
"Where are you, Mel?" he whispered under his breath, every step inside the hall pounding like a vow