Weeks blur together in a glass prison. My life has become a high-end fishbowl, where I'm the exotic pet on display.
The memory of that night still haunts me, being half-carried, half-dragged through the service corridors of La Reale Casino at 3 AM, my body weak from blood loss and terror. Lara barking orders at masked women while Lilly whispered reassurances in my ear like I should be grateful for my upgraded accommodations.
I trace my fingers along the edge of my eye patch, the skin beneath still tender. Dr. Ramirez, whoever the hell she is, did what she could, but some things can't be fixed. "Complete destruction of the ocular tissue," she'd said in that clinical voice while examining what remained of my left eye. Now I swallow pain pills like candy, grateful for the fog they create.
"What are you thinking about?" Lilly murmurs against my neck, her breath warm on my skin as we lie together on the king-sized bed.
I don't answer immediately. The truth would only anger her, and I've learned my lesson about that. Instead, I shift slightly, adjusting to her weight against me. The silk sheets beneath us are cool and smooth, luxury prison linens.
"Nothing important," I finally say.
My glass cage is objectively nicer than the basement. Four transparent walls forming a room larger than my old apartment. There's a full bathroom with actual hot water, a kitchenette stocked with food, a TV loaded with streaming services, even gaming consoles. Everything a captive could want, except freedom.
Beyond the glass lies an observation area where my captor will sit and watch me.
Lilly yawns again, stretching against me like a satisfied cat. She visits every day, sometimes staying overnight. Playing house in our fucked-up terrarium.
"I have a present for you," she says, reaching for her bag on the floor beside the bed.
I feel a flutter of anticipation in my chest that sickens me. My daily Chris update. It's pathetic how much I've come to need these glimpses into my brother's life, these small reassurances that he's still okay, still existing in the real world beyond these glass walls.
Lilly pulls out a manila envelope and hands it to me with a smile. "Fresh from this morning."
My hands shake slightly as I open it, sliding out the stack of glossy photos. There's Chris in his school outfit. The Boston Herald is visible in the shot, today's date clearly legible. Another shows him laughing in a kitchen in his suite in the casino, homework spread out before him. Margaret's hand is visible at the edge of the frame. She must be helping him.
"He's doing really well in school," Lilly says, watching my face intently as I flip through the images. "Mom helped him with science, too."
I swallow hard, tracing Chris's smiling face with my fingertip. "That's great," I manage to say, my voice rough with emotion.
This is the bargain I've struck. My compliance for his safety. These precious photos that prove he's alive and well. Sometimes it's Lilly who brings them, sometimes one of Lara's stone-faced employees. Either way, I devour them like a starving man.
"There's something else," Lilly adds, reaching into her bag again. She pulls out her phone. "I recorded him at soccer practice yesterday."
My heart lurches. Video is rare, a special treat she dangles when she's particularly pleased with me. I set the photos aside carefully and take the phone from her hands, our fingers brushing. I hit play immediately.
The screen flickers to life, showing Chris running across a green field, laughing as he chases the ball. His hair flops in his eyes the way it always does when he needs a haircut. He looks happy. Normal. Free.
"Thank you," I whisper, and I mean it despite everything.
Lilly beams at me, clearly pleased by my gratitude. She takes her phone back when the video ends, setting it aside before crawling back into my lap. Her lips find mine, and I don't resist. I never do anymore.
"I miss you when I'm not here," she whispers against my mouth, her hands already working at the buttons of my shirt.
I don't respond with words. Instead, I pull her closer, my body responding to her touch with a Pavlovian eagerness that disgusts and thrills me in equal measure. This is the other part of our sick arrangement, the physical release that has become my only escape.
I've settled into a rhythm with Lilly that feels both predictable and terrifying. As long as I play my part, as long as I don't resist or upset her, we fuck like animals in this glass cage. Her body becomes a sanctuary I hate myself for seeking, but it's the only escape I have.
When she's on top of me, grinding her hips against mine, I can almost forget where I am. When I'm inside her, thrusting up into her warmth, the glass walls around us temporarily disappear. For those brief moments, I'm not a prisoner with a missing eye. I'm just a man losing himself in pleasure.
It's fucked up how my body betrays me every time. How eagerly I respond to her touch despite knowing what she's done. What she's capable of.
"You're so good to me now," she whispers as she rides me, her ponytail swinging with each movement. "So perfect."
Lilly stares at me for a moment.
"Seth," she says suddenly, her voice unusually hesitant. "What would you think about getting out of here someday?"
My heart skips a beat. I turn my head slowly to look at her, afraid to show too much hope, too much eagerness. "For real?" I ask, voice barely above a whisper.
Her smile is enigmatic as she takes my hand and places it gently on her stomach. She holds it there, her fingers pressing mine against the flat plane of her abdomen.
"Don't you want to know your child?" she whispers, her eyes gleaming with something I've never seen before.
I feel like I've been punched in the gut. The air leaves my lungs in a rush as her words sink in. My hand trembles against her stomach.
"You're... pregnant?" I choke out, tears welling in my good eye before I can stop them.
She smiles wider than I've ever seen, a genuine joy that transforms her face into something almost innocent. "Yes," she breathes, placing her hand over mine, pressing it more firmly against her belly. "This was my original plan all along."
I can't process what I'm hearing. A child. My child. Growing inside the woman who gouged out my eye. The woman who orchestrated her own sister's murder. The woman who keeps me in a glass prison.
"Rose and I weren't sure you even wanted to stay with us when we first met you," she continues, her voice dreamy and distant. "But I knew I had to have you."
My mind races, memories flooding back. "You lied about having an IUD?"
She nods, not a hint of remorse on her face. "I saw a chance to snap you up, Seth, and I took it." Her fingers intertwine with mine, still pressed against her flat stomach. "I couldn't risk letting you slip away."
A complicated storm of emotions crashes through me. Part of me, a sick, twisted part I barely recognize, feels a surge of happiness that the woman I loved for so long would go to such lengths to keep me. That she wanted me so badly, she'd create this permanent bond between us.
But she's a monster. A beautiful, calculating monster who's taken everything from me.
And now she's pregnant with my child.
"Maybe I'll let you out of here," she says, watching my face carefully. "If I can be assured you won't try anything stupid."
Hope flares in my chest, bright and desperate. Freedom. Seeing Chris in person again. Feeling the sun on my face.
"Of course I wouldn't," I say immediately, my voice too eager even to my own ears. "I wouldn't risk anything happening to our baby."
I'm lying through my teeth. My first move would be to run as far away as possible. Take Chris and disappear where she could never find us. But I need to play this game if I want any chance at escape.
Lilly's smile fades slightly as she studies my face. Her fingers trace the edge of my eye patch, a reminder of what happens when I cross her.
"I don't believe you, Seth," she says, her voice soft but sharp as a blade.
Her words cut through my desperate hope. I should have known better than to think she'd fall for such an obvious lie. Before I can respond, she leans in and kisses me deeply, her tongue sliding against mine with possessive intensity. When she pulls back, her green eyes bore into my single remaining one.
"But I'll give you as much time as you need to convince me."