The morning sun streamed through the windows of the house, illuminating the quiet tension that had settled over its occupants. Joi sat in the living room, staring out at the garden. Her notebook rested on her lap, untouched. She had hardly written a word since Adrian informed her the night before that he'd be delaying his return.
Her chest felt heavy, as though the air around her had thickened. Adrian's absence weighed on her more than she wanted to admit. For weeks, his presence had been her anchor—his touch, his voice, his unwavering reassurance that she was safe. Now, without him, the world felt perilously unsteady.
She glanced down at the locket in her hand, running her thumb over its worn surface. It was her only physical connection to her father, Daniel, but it had become something else—a reminder of the tangled web her life had become.
Her thoughts spiraled until a faint noise outside snapped her attention back. She looked out the window, her heart racing, but there was nothing there. Just the wind teasing the garden leaves.
---
Adrian leaned back in his private jet, staring blankly out the window as the clouds rolled by. His phone vibrated on the table beside him, but he didn't reach for it. He knew what it would say—another update about Joi, likely from Emily or Alexander.
He didn't care for updates; he needed to see her for himself.
He closed his eyes, letting his mind wander to Joi. She had been fragile ever since the accident. Her clinging to him, the way her eyes sought him out in every room, gave him a sense of power he hadn't expected. It was intoxicating.
Her memory loss had been a convenient twist of fate, one he wasn't above exploiting. The story he had spun—that they had been in love, engaged, and that he had "claimed" her—wasn't entirely untrue. He had wanted her long before the accident. Now, with her relying on him for stability, he had finally found his place in her life.
But there was always a shadow in the back of his mind, a gnawing thought that she might one day remember the truth. And what then?
Adrian opened his eyes, his jaw tightening. He wouldn't let it happen. Joi was his, and nothing—not her memories, not Marcus, not even her father—would take her away from him.
---
Back at the House
Joi wandered aimlessly through the house, trying to shake the sense of unease that clung to her. Emily had offered to take her out, but she'd declined, unwilling to leave the fragile bubble of safety she associated with the house.
As she passed the hallway mirror, her gaze caught on her reflection. Her pale face, shadowed eyes, and the locket hanging against her chest made her look like a ghost of herself.
She didn't hear the footsteps behind her until it was too late. A hand touched her shoulder, and she whirled around, her heart leaping into her throat.
"It's just me," Daniel said, his voice soft but laced with concern.
Joi exhaled sharply, clutching her chest. "You scared me."
"You've been on edge lately," Daniel observed, his brow furrowed. "Is it about Adrian?"
Joi hesitated. She wanted to confide in her father, but something held her back. Perhaps it was the way he had let Kate and Lora dominate her life for so long, or perhaps it was her own inability to trust anyone completely.
"It's not just him," she said finally. "I feel like... like I'm being watched."
Daniel's expression darkened, but before he could say more, Emily appeared in the doorway. "Joi, you have a call. It's Adrian."
Relief flooded Joi's chest as she hurried to the phone.
---
Adrian's Call
"Adrian?" she said, her voice trembling.
"I'm on my way back," Adrian said, his voice steady and calm. "I'll be there in a few hours. How are you holding up?"
Joi hesitated, clutching the phone tightly. "I... I feel like I'm falling apart. Everything feels wrong without you here."
"You're stronger than you think, Joi," Adrian said, his voice softening. "But I'm glad you miss me."
Her cheeks flushed at his words, her heart aching for the comfort of his presence. "I feel safe when you're here. Like everything will be okay."
"It will be," Adrian promised. "I'll see to it."
---
Miles away, Marcus sat in the corner of a dimly lit bar, the sharp scent of alcohol and smoke heavy in the air. His broad shoulders hunched over a half-empty glass of whiskey, the amber liquid swirling lazily as he twisted the glass in his hand. His ruggedly handsome features were shadowed under the dim lighting, but his piercing eyes gleamed with a dangerous intensity.
"She's got a fiancé," the man had said the other night, his words a dagger twisting in Marcus's mind. Every time he replayed it, the same searing anger coursed through him. Joi. His Joi. With another man. The very thought of her smiling for someone else, touching someone else, drove him into a spiral of rage.
Joi had always been his. No one had the right to claim her but him.
He slammed the glass down onto the counter, the sharp sound cutting through the low murmur of the bar. A few patrons turned to glance at him before quickly looking away. Even the bartender, a burly man accustomed to unruly customers, hesitated before approaching.
"Another?" the bartender asked cautiously, keeping his tone neutral.
Marcus shook his head, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked as though it might crack. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, the screen casting a faint glow on his hardened face.
When the line connected, he didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Get me everything you can on Adrian Reginald," he ordered, his voice cold and cutting.
There was a pause on the other end, a subtle hesitation before the reply came. "Marcus… what are you planning?"
Marcus's lips curled into a sinister smile, one that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm taking back what's mine," he said, his tone low and lethal.
The voice on the other end sighed. "You sure about this? Messing with a guy like Reginald could get messy."
"Do it," Marcus snapped, his patience wearing thin. "I don't care who he is. I want to know everything—where he works, where he sleeps, what he's hiding. Don't leave a stone unturned."
"Alright. Give me a day or two," the voice replied.
Marcus ended the call without another word, tossing the phone onto the counter. He leaned back in his chair, his mind already racing through the possibilities. Adrian Reginald might have Joi now, but he wouldn't have her for long. Marcus would make sure of it.
As the bartender returned with a cautious glance, Marcus waved him off and stared at the glass in front of him. The fire in his chest burned hotter, his obsession with Joi threatening to consume him entirely.
"I'm coming for you, Joi," he muttered under his breath, his voice a dark promise. "You're not getting away from me again."