Chapter 4: Trapped in the Dark
Akin's knees ached against the cold stone floor of the mansion's grand hall. His heart pounded so hard he thought it might burst. The man standing over him—Rolex Night—was like no one he'd ever seen. Tall, sharp-suited, with eyes so dark they seemed to swallow the light. His face was all hard lines, his presence heavy, like the air itself bent to his will. Akin was scared, his wrists still bound, his head throbbing from where Droko had knocked him out. He stared up at Rolex, unable to move, unable to look away.
Rolex's gaze shifted to the man who'd dragged Akin here. "Droko, explain," he said, his voice low and smooth, but sharp enough to cut.
Droko stepped forward, his black coat brushing the floor, his cold eyes glinting. "This is the boy, my lord. Victor's son, Akin. The old man offered him to settle his debt." Droko's lips twitched, like he found it amusing.
Rolex laughed, a cold sound that sent a shiver down Akin's spine. He looked down at Akin, his eyes narrowing. "Your father's really something, isn't he? Selling his own kid like some cheap pawn."
Akin's fear burned into anger. He clenched his fists, the ropes biting into his skin. "I'm not a toy!" he snapped, his voice shaking but loud. "You can't just sell me like I'm trash! How much does my dad owe? I'll pay it myself!"
Rolex's eyebrow lifted, and he knelt, his face inches from Akin's. His fingers grabbed Akin's chin, forcing him to look up. His touch was cold, but it sent a strange jolt through Akin, like a spark he couldn't explain. "Pay it?" Rolex said, his voice mocking. "Boy, even if your entire family worked for generations, you'd never come close to what your father owes me."
Akin's breath hitched. Fear clawed at his chest, colder than the floor beneath him. "What… what are you gonna do to me?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "Are you gonna kill me?"
Rolex's laugh was darker this time, almost amused. "Kill you? Why would I kill my repayment?" He leaned closer, his eyes locking onto Akin's. "That wouldn't be fun. No, I'll make you useful."
Akin's heart raced. Useful? What did that mean? Before he could ask, Rolex froze, his hand still on Akin's chin. His eyes flickered, a strange glow flashing in them—red, then black, then red again. He let go abruptly, standing up and stepping back, like he'd been burned. Akin didn't understand, but he felt it too—a pull, deep in his chest, like something inside him was reaching for Rolex. It scared him more than the ropes or the mansion.
Rolex pressed a hand to his face, his jaw tight. Droko stepped closer, his voice low. "My lord, are you alright?"
Rolex didn't answer at first. He stared at Akin, his eyes unreadable, like he was seeing something he didn't expect. Then he spoke, his voice sharp. "Take him away, Droko. Lock him up. Now."
Akin's stomach dropped. "Wait!" he yelled, scrambling to his feet despite the ropes. "Please, don't do this! I didn't do anything!" His voice cracked, desperate, but Rolex turned away, his back rigid, like he didn't hear.
Droko grabbed Akin's arm, his grip like iron. "Move," he said, yanking him forward. Akin stumbled, trying to pull free, his sneakers slipping on the polished floor. "Please!" he begged, twisting to look at Rolex. "Just let me go! I'll figure out a way to pay, I swear!"
Rolex didn't turn around. His voice was cold, final. "You're mine now. Get used to it."
Droko dragged Akin down a long hallway, the walls lined with dark paintings that seemed to watch him. Akin's legs shook, but he kept begging, his voice hoarse. "You don't have to do this! Tell him I'll work, I'll do anything!" Droko didn't answer, his face blank as he pulled Akin through a heavy door and down a staircase. The air grew colder, the light dimmer, until they reached a small room with stone walls and a single bed.
Droko shoved Akin inside, and he tripped, falling onto the bed. Before he could get up, Droko grabbed his wrists, unlocking the ropes only to snap cold metal handcuffs on them. He chained one cuff to a ring bolted to the wall above the bed. "Don't move," Droko said, his voice flat but threatening. "You stay here for now. And keep your mouth shut. Scream all you want—no one's gonna hear you in this place."
Akin's eyes widened. "You can't leave me here!" he shouted, yanking at the cuffs. The metal bit into his skin, and pain shot up his arm. "Please, just tell me what's going on!"
Droko paused at the door, his cold eyes glinting. "You're Mr. Night's belongings. That's all you need to know." He turned and left, the door slamming shut with a heavy clang. The lock clicked, echoing in the small room.
Akin sat frozen, his wrists aching, his head pounding. Tears stung his eyes, and he didn't fight them. They rolled down his cheeks, hot and bitter. He didn't understand any of this. His father—Victor—had sold him like he was nothing. The man who was supposed to protect him had thrown him to a monster like Rolex Night. Why? What had he ever done to deserve this?
He curled up on the bed, the cuffs clinking as he moved. The room was cold, the air heavy, like it was pressing him down. He thought of his father's face, the way he wouldn't even look at him when he agreed to give him away. "I don't want him," his father had said. The words cut deeper than any slap. Akin had spent his whole life trying to please his father, working late shifts, dodging his fists, hoping one day things would change. But they never did. And now this.
He closed his eyes, his tears soaking the thin pillow. He didn't try to move again—what was the point? Struggling would only make things worse. He was trapped, alone, in a place that felt more like a prison than a mansion. And Rolex Night… that man wasn't human. Akin didn't know how he knew, but he felt it. Those eyes, that strange pull in his chest—it wasn't normal. None of this was.