93.

The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore filled the air as Talia sat on the edge of a low couch, her hands clenched tightly in her lap. She’d spent hours tracing the walls, checking the locks on the windows, the door—any exit, any weakness. But the small beach house was secure, reinforced for her confinement. She was trapped, and every passing moment made her more desperate.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, drawing closer, and her muscles tensed. She wasn’t ready to see him, the man who had dragged her into this nightmare. Faraz. The name alone twisted her stomach with anger.

He walked in, his presence filling the room, a mix of calm and control that only fueled her hatred. Faraz stopped just a few steps from her, his expression unreadable as he observed her, like he was evaluating a stubborn animal. She bristled at his gaze.

“How are you adjusting?” he asked coolly, as if she were on a vacation rather than his captive.

Talia’s lip curled. “Adjusting? Is that what you think I’m doing here? You think I’m adjusting?”

Faraz’s expression remained impassive, which only irritated her more. “I’m giving you a chance to settle. This doesn’t have to be unpleasant, Talia. Cooperate, and I won’t have to make things difficult.”

“Make things difficult?” she shot back, springing to her feet. “You’ve already taken me against my will, brought me here to this… this prison. You don’t get to pretend this is some kind of favor. I’m not a pet you can just train to sit quietly.”

Faraz’s eyes flickered with a hint of irritation, but he masked it quickly. “You don’t understand the situation.”

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” she replied, her voice hard. “You think you can control me, keep me locked away here like some… some hostage. But I’m not going to make it easy for you. I’ll fight every step of the way.”

A tense silence stretched between them, neither willing to look away first. Faraz tilted his head slightly, examining her like she was a puzzle he was trying to solve. “It’s not as simple as you’re making it, Talia.”

“Then enlighten me,” she snapped, folding her arms defiantly.

He took a deep breath, as if he was weighing how much he should tell her. “You don’t know who you’re dealing with. There are forces at play here that are beyond what you can imagine. I’m not your enemy.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” she scoffed, taking a step back, never letting her gaze drop from his. “Because you certainly feel like one.”

Faraz’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice measured. “I did what was necessary.”

“Necessary?” She spat the word like it was poison. “I don’t care what you think is necessary. You took me from my life, from my home. I have people who care about me, who are probably looking for me—”

“Nobody’s going to find you here,” he cut in sharply, his voice a chilling finality. “I made sure of that.”

Her heart pounded, both in fear and fury, as she processed the certainty in his words. This wasn’t just a game to him; he was committed to keeping her here, no matter the cost. But that wasn’t going to stop her.

“I don’t care what you’ve planned, Faraz,” she said, her voice low and unwavering. “I’m not staying here quietly. I’ll escape, and if you’re foolish enough to believe otherwise, you’ll regret underestimating me.”

For the first time, she saw a glint of something close to admiration in his eyes, though his expression remained stoic. “You’re strong-willed. I can respect that. But you’re underestimating me if you think I’d let you go so easily.”

“Oh, I know exactly who you are,” she retorted. “A man so afraid of facing the world that he hides behind walls, traps women to feel powerful. It’s pathetic.”

A flash of something dark passed across Faraz’s face, but he reined it in, his voice cold. “Careful, Talia. I don’t tolerate disrespect.”

“And I don’t tolerate being treated like property,” she fired back. “So maybe we’re even.”

They stood in tense silence, the air thick with unspoken challenges. Talia’s heart was racing, but she kept her face steady, meeting his gaze without flinching. If he wanted a battle, she would give him one.

Faraz stepped closer, reducing the space between them until she could feel the heat of his presence, her own defiance mirrored in his eyes. “I don’t think you realize just how difficult you’re making this for yourself. You think you’re strong, but there are ways to break that will of yours.”

She smirked, unafraid, though her pulse quickened. “Try me.”

He lingered, his face unreadable, before finally stepping back. “I’ll leave you to think about your position here,” he said, his tone a veiled threat.

But Talia held her ground. “Don’t expect me to fall in line, Faraz. I’ll find a way out of here, and when I do, I’ll make sure you pay for every second you’ve taken from me.”

With that, she turned away from him, heading toward the far side of the room. She needed space, air—anything to escape the intensity of his presence. The door clicked shut behind him, and she let out a shaky breath, her fists clenched as she stared out the small window facing the beach. The ocean stretched out like a taunt, a reminder of the freedom just beyond her reach.

But she wouldn’t be caged forever. This place might be locked up tight, and Faraz might be cold and calculating, but he didn’t know her. He didn’t know just how far she’d go to regain her freedom.

She looked out at the endless horizon, steeling herself. There was a fire in her that Faraz couldn’t control, and she’d keep that flame burning no matter what it took.