The sound of Aaron's shoes echoed through the small prison cell as Karen waited calmly in the corner across the room. He glanced around while slipping his hands into the pockets of his expensive satin trousers. Then looked at Karen slowly, deciding to sit on the bed while folding one leg over the other.
Aaron studied Karen's face and smiled broadly as he said,"It seems you're quite comfortable in here."
He crossed his arms while waiting for her response.
Karen chose silence before turning her gaze away from Aaron and toward the mirror mounted on the wall. She had already found the peace she wanted. She knew what the man wanted from her. There was no longer any point in talking.
The man took out a cigar, lit the tip, and translucent white smoke immediately escaped from his mouth. Karen watched him through the mirror while Aaron smiled faintly.
"I forbade you from receiving visitors. Are you angry?"
No answer.
"You also won't be able to leave unless I'm the one who frees you. I assume you understand that."
Karen knew. And she didn't care. She busied herself washing her hands, unaware that Aaron had approached her from behind. The man forcibly twisted her shoulder, staring sharply at her face before his gaze dropped to her hands, still wrapped in bandages.
"I could also make a doctor heal your hand."
"My hand was broken because of you, and it's only right that you take responsibility," Karen finally said.
Aaron nodded in satisfaction and grinned widely.
"I almost thought you'd gone mute in here."
Karen immediately turned her back to him again. She was tired and irritated because the man never stopped disturbing her. Aaron clearly still wanted to buy her—but Karen had no interest and instead found him disgusting.
The man didn't move from his position. He didn't say a word or do anything. That was what made Karen look directly at Aaron's face through the mirror with a flat stare.
"Are you done? You can leave now."
It was obvious how badly she wanted to kick Aaron out of the place. Unfortunately, Aaron had no intention of letting go of this expensive toy. He had always believed he could buy any woman he wanted. And Karen was the most expensive toy he had ever owned.
The more difficult the challenge, the more Aaron wanted to break her.
Still in the same position, their gazes met through the mirror as Aaron lowered his neck slightly and bent forward.
"I'd love to leave, Karen, but there's one thing bothering me."
He placed his cigar on the floor and crushed it beneath his shoe until the ember died out, then smiled softly—dangerously. Karen gave no reaction other than blinking once.
Aaron was within her line of sight. He didn't move or speak. The distance between them was barely five centimeters. If Aaron turned his head slightly, or if Karen moved hers just a little, there would be no doubt—they would kiss.
He stared at her long and deeply before asking, "Niteo said you once received money to make a passport. Is that true?"
Aaron narrowed his eyes when he saw Karen swallow once, a flicker of shock flashing through her eyes before turning empty.
"What do you think?" Karen asked back, her gaze dropping.
"I thought the old man was telling the truth."
Then Aaron smiled broadly and very slowly used one hand to brush aside the hair at Karen's neck. His voice dropped, nearly a whisper, as he leaned closer to her ear.
"Tell me, Karen… what do you think I'll find if I investigate it?" he asked lazily, boredom clear in his tone.
Pulling his face back a few centimeters, Karen lifted her lashes. "I don't know. Why don't you find out yourself?"
Aaron squinted slightly before straightening up again. He nodded in agreement while Karen kept her gaze flat on his suit. "I'm already looking into it. You know, Karen? It seems your secret won't be safe from me."
Which meant: You'd better give up now and let me own your body.
"If that makes you happy, go ahead."
Which meant: Until death comes, I will never be your sex toy.
The man burst into loud laughter, admitting that the woman's stubbornness was something interesting. But destroying Karen's ego was an irresistible pleasure. And Aaron was very patient. He would wait for the moment when he would finally get Karen—and then discard her.
Karen Leichster was just like any other woman. And Aaron would never consider her special.
He stepped back a few paces before speaking again. "Be a good girl. I might send you a gift tonight."
And the devil left.
***
The "gift" Aaron sent arrived at midnight. Three women—also prisoners. Somehow, one of them managed to open Karen's cell door, and two of them entered.
It seemed Aaron was desperate to tame Karen. That was why, instead of sending his men, he ordered other inmates to give her a "welcome."
A very ordinary "welcome," in Karen's opinion. While the thinnest of the three guarded the door, the other two held folding knives and shards of glass in their hands.
"So you're the illegal immigrant everyone's talking about?"
Yep. That's right, Aaron.
Karen ignored them and prepared to sleep. She lay down and pulled up her blanket when one of them suddenly grabbed her hair roughly, forcing her head up.
"Aack!!"
"Hey, newbie! You're pretty arrogant, huh?" the woman sneered, tightening her grip.
"Let go," Karen said quietly.
"What did you say?"
"I said, let go."
"And what if I don't?" she mocked.
Karen's response was a sharp elbow strike to the woman's stomach as she turned. Unfortunately, at the same time, the shard of glass in the woman's hand slashed Karen's cheek. Karen clutched her bleeding face.
Before she could recover, another prisoner stabbed her.
Karen hadn't expected the attack. She groaned, feeling a burning pain in her abdomen—so intense she struggled to breathe. She looked down at her bleeding stomach, blood soaking into her clothes.
The gray uniform slowly changed color as blood spread rapidly.
"Argh…"
The attacker tried to pull the knife out, but Karen grabbed the woman's sleeve with her bloodied hand. She had to stop her. If the knife was pulled out now, she would die.
Instead, the woman shoved Karen away and yanked the blade free. Fresh, dark blood spilled from Karen's mouth as she coughed, collapsing to her knees. Her vision blurred as she watched the three prisoners flee.
Her mouth bled. Her stomach bled heavily. It hurt. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe.
Is this… what fear before death feels like? Karen thought weakly.
With the last of her strength, she crawled toward the door, one hand futilely pressing her wound, the other dragging her body forward—until she collapsed and lost consciousness.
Aaron received the news of Karen's injury several hours later while he was at a club. He was discussing plans with Tokio when Ken knocked and looked at him with concern.
"Miss Leichster has been injured."
Tokio shot to his feet, slamming his palms onto the table.
"Karen is hurt?" He glared at Aaron. "What the hell is this, Aaron?!"
Aaron turned to Ken, genuinely confused. "So?" he asked calmly. "What does that have to do with me?"
"Excuse me?"
"What does Karen have to do with me, Ken?" Aaron repeated dangerously.
"I thought—"
"Don't think. That's where you went wrong."
Tokio finally snapped. He circled the table, arms crossed. "What did you do this time, Aaron?"
Aaron stood and adjusted his suit. "Forgive me, Tokio. But our discussion will have to wait."
"Tell me, damn it! Karen is still my employee!"
Aaron stopped, turned slowly, and looked at Tokio with a soft yet threatening gaze. "I'll say this one last time. Karen is mine."
"Not yet," Tokio snapped.
"She is mine. And I'm the one who'll worry about her—not anyone else."
"That's different while she's still my employee."
"Then tell me what you mean."
"I haven't fired her. She's still mine until you manage to convince her. Right now, I have more right to worry."
Aaron stared at him for a long moment before relaxing. "You're right. But you've forgotten one thing—I'm the one who put Karen in prison. And only I can free her."
"I know. I'll fire her once she recovers. And I'm going to visit her at the hospital."
"Then do it. Why tell me?"
"Aren't you going to visit her?" Tokio asked in disbelief.
"She won't die that easily."
"You're a demon."
"No. I just don't interfere in your personal affairs."
And Aaron left.
Tokio reconsidered Aaron's earlier demand—that Karen not be rehired once she was released. Not for the club's reputation, but to break her spirit until she accepted Aaron's offer.
Karen was a hedgehog. Aaron was a snake. The problem was—the hedgehog had many spikes. And the snake still wanted its prey.
Yaro was waiting outside the operating room with his men when Aaron arrived.
"I know you're angry," Yaro explained quickly. "One of my guards spotted her and rushed her here. We'll investigate—"
Aaron raised a hand, stopping him.
"Relax. I didn't come to ask about her condition."
"What? Why not?" Yaro blurted. "I thought you were interested in her."
"A broken toy doesn't interest me."
Yaro was disgusted. "Fine. Then I'll investigate myself. This place is under my jurisdiction."
Aaron shrugged. "I just want to know if she'll live."
Enraged, Yaro grabbed Aaron's collar and slammed him into the wall—only to find knives at his throat and stomach.
"I thought police gave warnings first," Aaron said calmly.
"They're my personal men," Yaro snapped. "We put Karen in prison. If you can't show concern, at least don't come here acting like a bastard."
"I'm not," Aaron replied. "I paid her hospital bills."
Yaro released him in disgust. "I can't believe you're the same man who once offered me help."
"The man you knew is long dead," Aaron replied coldly.
And he walked away.