Darling, You Lose

Chapter 37: The Punishment

“You tried to leave me, mi amor?” Rafael’s voice is deceptively soft, but it sends a chill straight down Elena’s spine. She’s standing there, trapped in a small, dimly lit room, her heart pounding in her chest. He’s not angry, at least not in the way she expected. Instead, his voice is smooth, almost too calm, like he’s savoring the moment.

Elena barely glances at him. She’s already too exhausted to argue. She had fought—tried to run, to escape, to make it out of his grasp, but here she is now, trapped again.

Rafael steps closer to her, his gaze dark and unwavering. “You’re not going anywhere, Elena. Not now. Not ever.” The words hang in the air, heavy with finality.

She swallows hard, trying to control her breathing. She knows he’s right. Her attempt to flee was foolish, and now there’s no way out. Not for now. Not until he’s done with her.

He leans in, brushing his fingers gently against her cheek, and Elena flinches, but doesn’t pull away. His touch is cold, calculated, and it makes her skin crawl. She refuses to let him see how much he affects her.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” His words come out like a soft command, but there’s an undercurrent of menace that she can’t ignore. “You’re locked in here until the wedding. After that, you’ll never be allowed to leave again.”

The weight of his words presses on her chest. The wedding. It’s coming. And she knows, deep down, that this time there’s no way out. She’s going to be his. Forever. The thought makes her stomach churn, but she doesn’t show it. She won’t let him have that satisfaction.

Rafael watches her, studying her every move. She knows he’s waiting for her to break, waiting for her to beg him, to cry for mercy. But she won’t give him that. Not anymore.

“Rafael…” Elena’s voice trembles slightly, despite her best efforts to sound steady. She doesn’t know what she wants to say, or if she even has the right words. “Please,” she starts, her eyes not meeting his. “Please just let me go. I’ll do anything. I’ll marry you if you really want, but let me go now. I can’t do this.”

Rafael’s laugh is soft, cruel. “You think you have a choice? You never did, Elena.” He steps back, letting the silence stretch between them for a few moments before he turns and walks toward the door.

Elena watches him, her pulse quickening as he stops just short of it. He glances back at her over his shoulder. “Stay here. You’re not going anywhere. No one’s coming for you. This is where you’ll stay until the wedding. Then, it’ll be official, and you’ll finally learn your place.”

The door clicks shut behind him, and the room falls into an eerie silence.

Elena leans against the wall, her knees almost giving way beneath her as the gravity of her situation sinks in. She’s completely alone. No one knows where she is—not Alexander, not anyone. Rafael has taken everything from her.

But she’s not done yet.

Her eyes scan the room, looking for something, anything, that could help her. The walls are bare, except for a small window high up near the ceiling, too small to escape through. A desk sits off to one side, a few pieces of furniture scattered around. The place is quiet, isolated, far from the city. She’s cut off, and the weight of that hits her like a ton of bricks.

But then, her eyes catch on something—a small, nondescript drawer tucked into the side of the desk. It’s not locked.

She moves toward it cautiously, her heart racing, as if every noise in the house might alert someone. The last thing she wants is for Rafael or his men to catch her snooping. But she can’t just sit here and wait for the inevitable.

With trembling fingers, Elena pulls open the drawer. Her breath hitches in her throat when she sees what’s inside.

A gun.

Her hand lingers on the handle for a moment. It’s heavy, cold in her grip, a tool that could mean the difference between life and death. She’s not an expert with weapons, but the weight of it feels reassuring, like she’s not entirely helpless. Maybe she can make it out of here after all.

But the reality sinks in. If she uses it, there’s no going back. Rafael will never forgive her. She’ll be marked for life, and that’s if she survives.

She takes a deep breath, steadying herself. There has to be another way. But the gun is a reminder that she still has options. That she’s not as powerless as Rafael thinks she is.

For a long moment, Elena just holds the gun, feeling its weight. The adrenaline pumping through her veins is almost too much to bear.

Then, she hears something. A soft sound outside the door. Her heart stops for a split second, and she quickly places the gun back in the drawer, shutting it softly. She’s not ready yet.

She takes a step back, looking around the room one more time. The place feels colder now, suffocating, like the walls are closing in on her.

She wishes she had a plan, something solid. She wishes Alexander were here. But she knows that it’s not just him anymore. It’s her. It’s her choice now, and no one can save her except herself.

The minutes drag on, each one feeling longer than the last. Every creak of the floor, every noise outside her door, makes her tense, ready to act. But she waits. She waits for the right moment.

“I won’t give up,” she whispers to herself, the words barely more than a breath. The promise is quiet, but in her heart, it feels like the first spark of hope she’s had in a long time.

She isn’t done yet.

Not by a long shot.