Lina's Reality – Trapped in His Web
Lina's entire body was shaking.
She had screamed herself hoarse.
She had fought until her arms ached.
She had tried to run—but there was nowhere to go.
Ethan stood by the door, his gray eyes calm, patient, victorious.
She wanted to claw at his face, to tear apart the monster who had stolen her life.
Instead, her knees buckled beneath her, and she collapsed onto the bed.
Ethan didn't stop her. He let her break.
"I know it's hard," he murmured, stepping closer, kneeling before her.
She flinched.
"Don't touch me," she whispered, her voice raw.
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. He was so infuriatingly calm.
"As much as I love hearing you say my name," he murmured, "I don't like seeing you like this, love."
Lina's body locked.
He had called her that so many times.
Through the AI. Through the messages. Through her own fantasies.
But it had never felt real—until now.
Her vision blurred with hot, furious tears.
"You ruined my life," she choked out.
Ethan's lips twitched into something dark.
"No," he corrected. "I gave you exactly what you needed. Someone who would never leave. Someone who would do anything for you."
Lina's chest constricted.
No. This was manipulation.
This was his twisted way of making her accept him.
She refused to believe it.
But a tiny part of her wavered.
Because hadn't she always dreamed of a love like this?
A love so deep it consumed.
A love so dark it was almost terrifying.
Ethan saw that hesitation—and he pounced.
"You wanted this," he whispered. "I know because you told me, Lina. I know everything about you."
She squeezed her eyes shut, tears slipping down her cheeks.
No.
She didn't want this.
Did she?
At the Evans household, the air was suffocating.
Alice Evans sat on the couch, her hands clutching a framed photo of Lina.
She hadn't eaten in two days. Hadn't slept.
George Evans paced the living room, his expression unreadable.
But the worst was Max.
The twelve-year-old sat on the floor, his knees pulled to his chest, tears streaming down his face.
"She didn't run away," he whispered.
George exhaled, running a tired hand over his face.
"Max…"
The boy lifted his head, his brown eyes burning with fury.
"She didn't leave us!" he yelled. "Something happened to her!"
Alice sobbed softly, her fingers tightening around the picture frame.
George clenched his jaw.
He had tried everything.
The police. The reports. Searching Lina's last known locations.
Nothing.
Ethan had erased every single trace.
Max suddenly grabbed his father's wrist, his grip desperate.
"Dad, please," he choked out. "Please find her."
George's chest tightened.
He looked down at his son—Lina's little brother, who adored her more than anything.
And he made a silent vow.
He would not stop until he found her.
Meanwhile, Lina sat frozen as Ethan pulled out his phone.
"You're in pain right now, love," he murmured. "But I don't want you to suffer."
Her heart pounded violently.
He pressed a few buttons, and then—her mother's voice filled the room.
"Lina… if you can hear this, I just… I just want you to know that we hope you find peace. Please, take care of yourself. We love you."
Lina's breath stopped.
No.
No, no, no—
Her mother's voice. So broken. So final.
Ethan watched her reaction carefully.
"They believe you left willingly," he murmured. "They're not looking for you."
Lina's world shattered.
Her body swayed, her breath coming in sharp, gasping sobs.
They weren't coming for her.
They had given up.
Her family had let her go.
Something inside her snapped.
Her chest heaved violently as she clenched the bedsheets beneath her.
She had never felt so alone.
And Ethan…
Ethan was the only one left.
A slow, knowing smirk curved on his lips as he leaned in and whispered:
"I told you, love. You were always meant to be mine."
And this time—
Lina didn't fight it.
Because there was nothing left to fight for.