Chapter 12: Rules of Freedom
Akin stood in the middle of Rolex Night's office, his school uniform feeling tight and strange after a week of captivity. The mansion had been his prison for seven days, each one blurring into the next—cleaning, following rules, and avoiding Warco, the creepy guest Rolex had warned him about after their last encounter. "Stay away from him," Rolex had said, his voice cold, his eyes flashing. "He's not safe."
Akin didn't understand why, but Warco's sharp smile still haunted him. Now, standing here, he felt like a cornered animal, unsure why he'd been called to Rolex's office.
Rolex sat behind his desk, his dark eyes watching Akin like a hawk. Droko stood behind him, his red eyes cold, his face blank as always, like nothing in the world mattered. Akin's hands fidgeted, his heart racing. "What's going on?" he asked, his voice shaking. "Why am I here? What do you want now?"
Rolex stood, his movements slow, deliberate, his black suit sharp against the dim light. He walked toward Akin, stopping so close their shoes almost touched. Akin's breath caught, his body tensing. Rolex chuckled, a low, chilling sound, and grabbed Akin's shoulders, his grip firm but not painful. "You look like you've seen a ghost," Rolex said, his voice smooth. "Relax, kid. You're going back to school."
Akin's eyes widened, his heart skipping. "School?" he said, his voice cracking. "You're letting me go back? Why? What's the catch?"
Rolex's smile widened, but it didn't reach his eyes. "There's always a catch," he said. "You get to go, but there are rules. Outside rules. You break them, you'll wish you hadn't."
Akin swallowed, his throat dry. "What rules?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "What do you mean, outside rules?"
Rolex glanced at Droko, his eyes flicking to his Shade. "Tell him," he said, his voice sharp.
Droko stepped forward, his cold gaze locking onto Akin. "Listen up," he said, his voice flat, like he was reading a death sentence. "Rule one: you don't tell anyone you were sold. Not a word. If you do, they'll be dead before they can repeat it. Rule two: you don't get comfortable with anyone except Mr. Night. No friends, no chats, nothing. Rule three: you don't come home late. Ever."
Akin's stomach twisted, fear and anger mixing. "That's not freedom!" he snapped, his voice louder than he meant. "You're letting me out just to control me more? I can't even talk to people?"
Rolex's smile faded, his eyes narrowing. "You're mine, Akin," he said, his voice low, dangerous. "You don't get to make friends. You don't get to act like you're free. You follow my rules, or you'll see what happens."
Akin's hands clenched, tears stinging his eyes. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice shaking. "What do you want from me? Just tell me!"
"You don't need to know," Rolex said, stepping closer, his voice dropping. "You just need to obey. Can you do that, or do I need to lock you up again?"
Akin's breath hitched, his heart pounding. He nodded, his head low, his voice barely audible. "I… I'll follow the rules."
"Good," Rolex said, his smile returning, sharp and cold. "Droko, take him to school. Make sure he gets there."
Droko nodded, his face still blank. "Yes, my lord," he said. "Let's go, kid."
Akin stood there, his school uniform feeling like a costume, like he was playing a part in someone else's game. Rolex's eyes lingered on him, and for a moment, Akin thought he saw something softer, like regret. But it was gone fast, replaced by that cold, commanding stare. "Don't mess this up," Rolex said, turning away. "You won't like what happens."
---
Droko drove in silence, the black car sleek and out of place in the city's morning bustle. Akin sat in the back, his hands gripping his backpack, his heart racing. When they reached the college, students milled around the entrance, their chatter loud and normal—everything Akin's life wasn't. As he stepped out, he felt their eyes on him, whispers spreading. "Is that Akin?" someone said. "Since when does he roll up in a car like that?"
Droko leaned out the window, his red eyes glinting. "Remember the rules," he said, his voice low. "Don't test Mr. Night." He drove off, leaving Akin alone, the weight of those rules crushing him.
Akin walked toward the school building, his steps heavy. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he jumped, spinning around. It was Jack, his friend from before all this, grinning wide. "Yo, Akin!" Jack said, his voice bright. "It's been a week, man! Where you been? You finally snag a rich boyfriend or what?"
Akin froze, his heart racing. He wanted to tell Jack everything—his dad selling him, Rolex's rules, the fear—but Droko's warning echoed in his mind. "If you tell anyone, they'll be dead." He forced a weak smile, his voice tight. "Jack, if you knew what my life's been like, you'd feel sorry for me."
Jack's grin faltered. "What's that mean?" he said, stepping closer. "Come on, man, talk to me. You look like hell. What's going on?"
Akin shook his head, his throat tight. "I can't," he said, his voice barely audible. "Just… leave it, okay?"
Jack frowned, grabbing his arm. "Don't be like that," he said. "You disappear for a week, show up in a fancy car, and now you're acting all weird? Tell me what's up, Akin. I'm your friend."
Akin pulled away, his heart pounding. "I said I can't!" he snapped, louder than he meant. "Just stop, Jack. Please."
Jack stepped back, his hands up. "Alright, alright," he said. "Don't get mad. I'm just worried, man. You don't look right."
Akin turned, his eyes burning with tears he wouldn't let fall. "I'm fine," he muttered, walking away. Jack called after him, his voice fading. "Akin, come on! Don't walk away like that!"
Akin kept walking, not stopping, not looking back. He couldn't. The rules were clear, and the thought of what Rolex might do—to him, to Jack—kept his feet moving.
---