Next Morning

Ryan’s eyes blinked open to the soft light spilling into the room. He sat up slowly, stretching his arms with a yawn. But as he glanced around, his brow furrowed.

Wait… wasn’t I at the party?

He rubbed the back of his neck, frowning deeper. “When the hell did I come home?” he muttered under his breath, trying to piece it together. Images flickered in his mind, talking with a business partner, Anna right beside him, then… a guitar playing. After that… nothing. A blank wall where his memory should have been.

Huh? I don’t remember drinking anything…

Reaching for his phone, he quickly dialed Anna. One ring. Two. Three. Straight to voicemail. He called again. And again. Ten calls later, still nothing. No answer, no message. His chest tightened, a cold edge of panic creeping in.

“Pick up, damn it…” he growled, already shoving himself out of bed.

He didn’t bother changing, storming out in nothing but his pajama bottoms. On the way to her place, his thumb kept hitting the call button, again and again. Each time it rang, each time it failed, his heartbeat pounded harder.

---

Ryan slammed the car door shut and sprinted toward Anna’s apartment. His heart was thundering in his chest, his jaw tight. By the time he reached her floor, he was already jabbing the doorbell like his life depended on it.

“Anna! Open the damn door!” he shouted, his voice raw with panic.

When there was no response, he stepped back, ready to kick the door open, when it suddenly swung wide. Anna stood there, startled, but before she could speak, Ryan shoved his way inside.

He slammed the door shut with one hand and pinned her against the wall with the other, his face inches from hers.

“Why? Why the hell didn’t you pick up your phone, huh?!” His voice cracked with anger and worry. “Do you have any idea how freaked out I was?!”

Anna shoved at his chest, tears welling in her eyes. “And what about you, Ryan? Didn’t you ignore me first?!” she snapped, her voice breaking.

He froze, his anger faltering. Guilt flickered across his face. “Ignore you? Me? Baby, I’d never… that’s never happened. Not once.”

But she looked away, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand.

Ryan sighed heavily, stepping closer and gently turning her shoulders so she’d face him again. “Listen… I don’t remember anything clearly. The last thing I remember is talking to my business partner, you standing right beside me… and then… there was a guitar playing. After that, nothing. Blank.”

Anna’s brows drew together. “Did you drink alcohol?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I was with you the whole time. I didn’t touch any of the wine.”

She frowned, thinking back. “Remember that drink they served? You drank it. I didn’t...because I don’t like orange.”

Ryan’s jaw tightened. He nodded slowly. “Yeah… maybe… something was in it.”

“You weren’t even looking at me,” Anna said quietly. “You weren’t talking to me… you didn’t even look like yourself.”

He exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m calling the host,” Anna said firmly. “We’re reporting this.”

Anna stabbed at her phone screen, her jaw tight. Ryan watched her, leaning against the wall with his arms folded, his gaze fixed on her every move.

The call connected.
“Ma’am…?” the host’s voice came through, cautious, almost shaky.

“This is Anna,” she said, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. “We were at your event last night. One of the drinks you served...something was in it. My fiancé was drugged.”

Silence. Then the host stammered, “M-Ma’am, many people drank that particular Juice. No one else has filed any complain-”

“That’s because no one else matters to you as much as your high-profile guests, isn’t it?” Anna’s voice was like ice. “He doesn’t remember anything after a certain point. I was with him. I saw the change. And you’re telling me this is nothing?”

“Ma’am, I swear, w-we didn’t—” The host’s words tripped over themselves.

Ryan straightened, his voice dropping into something low and lethal. “Put it this way, if we find out you’re lying, you won’t have an event left to host.”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” the host said quickly, the fear bleeding into his voice now. “I… I’ll look into it personally.”

Anna narrowed her eyes, though the host couldn’t see it. “You do that. And you call me back the moment you have an answer. Because right now, you’re either covering for someone… or you’re part of it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The line went dead.

Anna’s fingers tightened around the phone. “He’s scared.”

Ryan gave a grim smile. “Good. He should be.”

----------

Ananya lay flat on the bed, her arms stretched painfully above her head, wrists bound tight to the headboard with his belt. The leather bit into her skin every time she moved, leaving angry red marks.

Her shoulders ached from being in the same position for so long. She tried to shift, to ease the numbness in her arms, but the restraints held her firm.

Her hair was a tangled mess against the pillow, her breath shallow. Every creak of the old floorboards outside the door made her tense....half in fear, half in dread, because she didn’t know which would be worse… him never coming back, or him walking through that door again.

At first, she’d screamed until her voice cracked, pounding her feet against the bedframe, desperate for someone....anyone...to hear. But after hours, it became horribly clear… no one could hear her. The thick walls seemed to swallow every sound.

Soundproof.

The realization hit like ice water down her spine. She stopped screaming. Her chest rose and fell in shaky breaths as she tried to save whatever strength she had left.

She glanced toward the door...still shut, still locked. The only sound in the room was the faint creak of the leather as she twisted her wrists again, trying to work herself free. Pain shot up her arms, but she kept going, ignoring the throbbing.

Her heart pounded with a sickening rhythm. Whoever he was… whatever he wanted… he wasn’t going to let her go easily.

The worst part? She had no idea why she was here.