I blinked against the harsh sunlight streaming through the helicopter window. The rumble of the rotors vibrated through my body, and my wrists, still sore from the ropes, ached against the restraints. My mind felt foggy, heavy with confusion, but slowly, reality crept in. I was not in my room. Not in the Smith mansion. Not anywhere safe.
"Where… am I?" I whispered to myself, my voice hoarse, trembling. The faint hum of the helicopter, the leather straps of the seat, and the distant conversation of men in uniforms made my heart hammer harder.
One of the men noticed me stirring and spoke softly. "Don't worry, miss. You're safe… for now. The General will explain everything when we land."
Safe. I laughed bitterly in my head. Safe. That word felt foreign. My stomach churned with unease and resentment. I had been abducted, and yet, I was alive. That was supposed to be comforting, wasn't it? But it wasn't. I felt the weight of every choice, every moment that led me here, pressing down like a storm cloud.
I closed my eyes again, letting the helicopter's vibrations lull me into uneasy memories. Grace. My family had chosen her. I had overheard the entire conversation. They had decided my fate without asking me, and I hadn't even been allowed to fight for it. I had smiled quietly at that moment, a sad, bitter smile. Because what could I feel? Anger, betrayal, indifference? All of it swirled in my chest like a storm.
Back at the Smith mansion, chaos had erupted. Liam stormed into the study, his coat flaring behind him, eyes dark with fury that could burn through steel. The news of my kidnapping had spread faster than wildfire, and his usual calculated calm was gone.
"Where is she?!" he roared, slamming his fist onto the polished mahogany desk. Papers scattered across the floor. Even the head of security flinched.
"She… the kidnappers took her, sir," one of his aides stammered, voice shaking. "An Army General intercepted them. We don't know their location."
Liam's jaw clenched. Every muscle in his body seemed taut, as if coiled to strike. His breath came in rapid, shallow bursts. "You don't know?!" He grabbed the nearest phone and started calling contacts—army officials, private investigators, hackers—his voice a razor-sharp blend of command and desperation.
Every officer, every staff member in the mansion moved like shadows under his glare. Liam wasn't just a wealthy heir; he was a storm of power in motion. Every resource he had, every connection, every ounce of influence—everything funneled toward finding me. And he didn't stop to think about consequences. None.
In the helicopter, I shifted uncomfortably, trying to keep myself composed. My fingers itched to move, to escape, to do anything. The General, a tall, imposing man with a quiet authority, finally addressed me.
"Miss Fiona, I am taking you to a private location. You are under protection… and observation. You are not to panic."
"Protection?" I repeated bitterly, swallowing hard. "From who? From my family? From Liam? From… everyone?"
He didn't answer. Instead, he handed me a small, folded blanket. "Rest. You will need your strength."
I accepted it reluctantly, curling up in the seat. My thoughts raced uncontrollably: Liam. I could almost hear his voice, sharp and possessive, ordering everyone into action, taking the city apart piece by piece just to find me. The thought sent a strange thrill through me, a mixture of fear, exasperation, and something else I couldn't name.
Back at the mansion, Liam had gone beyond calm calculation. He had mobilized every possible resource: helicopters scanning the outskirts of the city, bodyguards in armored vehicles combing known routes, private detectives tracing the kidnappers' network. His phone never stopped ringing, each call a new strategy, a new threat, a new order.
"Find her. I don't care what it takes. She's mine." His words were low, almost a growl, and yet they carried the full weight of obsession. Everyone in the room felt it—the cold precision that made no allowance for error. Even John, standing nearby, felt the heat of Liam's determination, a force that couldn't be ignored.
John approached cautiously. "Liam… I know she—"
"She is not your concern!" Liam snapped, cutting him off. His eyes, dark and burning, were fixed on nothing yet everything. "She is mine. I will bring her back. Do you understand?"
John nodded, lips pressed tight, his own emotions tangled with helplessness. He wanted to protect her too, but he knew better than to interfere with Liam in this state. Liam's obsession had tipped into something beyond reason, beyond normal concern.
The helicopter jolted slightly, and I gripped the seat. My mind wandered again—Robin. My childhood friend. The one person who had ever offered me simple kindness. Would he be there when we landed? Would he recognize the girl I had become after years of abandonment, trauma, and betrayal?
As we descended, the landscape stretched below—a private island, lush and untouched, almost surreal. The thought of being trapped here both terrified and intrigued me. I had no idea what awaited me, no knowledge of the General's intentions, only the vague hope that someone—maybe Liam—would find me.
And I knew he would.
Back at the mansion, Liam's fury hadn't cooled. Every movement, every plan, every decision revolved around me. He did not eat, did not sleep, barely breathed. He couldn't. Every second I was away, every moment I was in someone else's control, fed the fire burning in his chest.
"I will not lose her," he muttered to himself, voice low, almost unrecognizable. "She belongs to me. And no one—no one—will take her from me again."
Even John, standing silently at the doorway, recognized the truth. Liam's obsession wasn't just desire—it was possession, protection, and a darkness that could not be measured. And as the city outside moved on, Liam's world had shrunk to one singular point: finding Fiona, no matter the cost.
The helicopter touched down softly on the island's hidden landing strip. I felt a strange combination of dread and relief as the doors opened. Warm air and the scent of the ocean greeted me. Somewhere nearby, Robin's laughter drifted faintly. Somewhere, someone remembered me from the past.
And somewhere, across the miles, Liam's fury burned hotter than the sun, the entire Smith mansion reduced to a command center of obsession.
I realized, as I stepped onto the island, that nothing had changed. I was still caught in the web of their desires, their obsessions, their worlds. And I was going to have to survive it all—alone, or not.