Marcus and David moved forward with practiced efficiency, their faces apologetic but resolute. The kitchen suddenly felt smaller as the two bodyguards approached Pervis from either side.
“Please don’t resist, Mr. Tyler,” Marcus said quietly. “We’re just following orders.”
Pervis backed against the counter, his eyes darting between the two men. “Wait, listen to me. I have claustrophobia—I can’t be locked in enclosed spaces.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but we have our instructions,” David replied, reaching for Pervis’s arm.
The moment their hands touched him, Pervis’s composure cracked completely. “No, you don’t understand! I have a medical condition—I can’t be confined!”
His voice rose to a shout as both men grabbed him firmly, pinning his arms to his sides. Pervis struggled against their grip, panic already beginning to claw at the edges of his consciousness.
“Anna!” he called out tersely. “You know I can’t handle confined spaces. This is a mistake.”
Anna paused in the doorway, Noah still leaning against her for support. Her expression remained cold and unmoved as she looked back at her husband.
“I don’t care what condition you think you have,” she said icily. “You hurt an innocent person, and now you must pay the price for your actions.”
“This won’t solve anything, Anna,” Pervis said through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched as he fought to maintain control. “You’re making the wrong choice.”
But Anna had already turned away, her attention focused entirely on Noah. “Come on, we need to get that wound properly treated.”
“Thank you for protecting me,” Noah whispered loud enough for Pervis to hear, his voice weak but carrying an undertone of satisfaction.
As Anna guided Noah toward the front door, the young man glanced back over his shoulder. The moment Anna’s attention was elsewhere, his expression transformed. The mask of pain and innocence slipped away, replaced by a triumphant smile that was pure malice. His eyes locked with Pervis’s for just a moment, and he mouthed a single word: “Goodbye.”
“Anna,” Pervis called out, his voice steady despite the fear building inside him. “Don’t leave me here. This is wrong and you know it.”
But the front door was already closing behind them, the sound echoing through the house like a death knell.
“Come on, Mr. Tyler,” Marcus said gently, his voice genuinely sympathetic. “The sooner we get this over with, the better.”
They dragged Pervis across the kitchen floor, his feet scrambling for purchase on the polished tiles. The basement door loomed ahead like the mouth of a tomb.
“This could kill me,” Pervis said grimly, his voice low and controlled despite the tremor in his hands. “I’m not exaggerating about the claustrophobia.”
“Mrs. Morrison will be back soon,” David said uncomfortably. “I’m sure she’ll let you out once she’s calmed down.”
The basement door creaked open, revealing a yawning black void below. The musty smell of the underground space hit Pervis like a physical blow, and his entire body began to shake uncontrollably.
“I won’t forget this,” he said quietly, his breathing becoming rapid and shallow despite his efforts to stay composed. “Either of you.”
But the bodyguards were already guiding him down the wooden steps. Each creak of the boards beneath their feet sounded like a countdown to his doom.
“You’re making a serious mistake,” Pervis said, his voice tight with barely controlled panic. “When Anna comes to her senses, she’ll regret this decision.”
The basement was worse than he’d remembered—a cramped concrete space filled with forgotten furniture and storage boxes. A single bare bulb hung from the ceiling, casting harsh shadows in every corner.
“We’re really sorry about this, Mr. Tyler,” Marcus said as they reached the bottom of the stairs. “But we have our orders.”
They released his arms and stepped back toward the stairs. Pervis immediately lunged forward, but David blocked his path.
“At least leave the light on,” Pervis demanded, his voice steady despite the fear coursing through him.
“The light stays,” Marcus nodded. “That much we can do.”
They climbed the stairs quickly, and the door slammed shut above him with a sound like thunder. The click of the lock echoed through the small space, sealing Pervis’s fate.
“This isn’t over!” Pervis shouted, pounding his fists against the door once before stepping back, forcing himself to breathe slowly.
But the house above remained silent. Anna was gone, taking Noah to the hospital, and the bodyguards had probably retreated to their quarters to wait for her return.
The walls seemed to be closing in already. Despite his efforts to stay strong, Pervis’s breathing became more labored as the familiar panic began to rise in his chest. Cold sweat broke out across his forehead and palms.
“Stay in control,” he whispered to himself through clenched teeth. “Don’t let them break you.”
But the memories were already flooding back—being five years old, stuffed into a dark closet by strangers who had come to take him away from everything he’d ever known. The social workers had found him hours later, catatonic with fear, and that was the last time he’d seen his childhood home.
His legs gave out, and he collapsed to his knees on the cold concrete floor. The trembling spread through his entire body as his panic disorder took hold, his earlier resolve crumbling under the weight of his phobia.
“No…” he whispered brokenly, his tough facade finally breaking. “Anna… please come back.”
But there was no answer, only the oppressive silence of his concrete tomb.
Time became meaningless in the darkness of his mind. Minutes felt like hours as Pervis fought against the waves of panic that threatened to drown him completely.
Then, suddenly, sounds erupted from above—shouting, running footsteps, what sounded like furniture being overturned.
“What’s happening?” Pervis called weakly, though he could barely summon the strength to speak.
The sounds of conflict continued for several more minutes before an eerie silence fell over the house. Pervis strained his ears, trying to understand what had occurred.
Footsteps on the stairs above—but these were different. Lighter, more urgent.
“Hello?” a woman’s voice called from behind the door. “Is someone down there?”
“Help me,” Pervis managed to croak. “Please help me.”
The lock clicked, and the door swung open. Light from the kitchen above poured down the stairs like salvation itself.
A beautiful woman appeared at the top of the stairs—tall, elegant, with long dark hair and worried eyes. She rushed down toward him without hesitation.
“Oh my God, what have they done to you?” she gasped, kneeling beside his trembling form.
“I can’t… I can’t breathe,” Pervis whispered, his vision blurring at the edges.
The woman wrapped her arms around him, pulling him against her chest. Her voice was strong and commanding as she shouted up the stairs.
“Call an ambulance immediately! This man needs medical attention now!”
Those were the last words Pervis heard before consciousness slipped away from him entirely.
When awareness returned, it came slowly, like emerging from deep water. The first thing Pervis noticed was the softness of the bed beneath him, so different from the cold concrete of the basement floor.
“You’re awake,” a gentle voice said beside him.
Pervis turned his head to see the same beautiful woman sitting in a chair next to his hospital bed. Her face brightened with relief when she saw his eyes focus on her.
“Doctor!” she called toward the hallway. “He’s conscious!”
A middle-aged man in a white coat appeared moments later, smiling warmly as he approached the bed.
“Well, well,” the doctor said cheerfully, checking Pervis’s pulse. “Welcome back to the land of the living, Mr. Tyler. How are you feeling?”
“Weak,” Pervis admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But better.”
“Everything looks normal now,” the doctor continued, shining a small flashlight in Pervis’s eyes. “Your vitals are stable, and your panic attack has completely subsided. You’re going to be just fine.”
The woman beside the bed let out a long sigh of relief, her shoulders sagging as tension left her body.
“Thank you,” Pervis said weakly, looking between the doctor and his mysterious savior. “Both of you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” the doctor chuckled. “Thank this young lady here. She’s the one who got you to the hospital in time.”
As the doctor left to check on other patients, Pervis turned his full attention to the woman who had saved him.
“I don’t understand,” he said softly. “Who are you? Why did you help me?”
The woman smiled, and something familiar flickered in her eyes—something that reminded him of looking in a mirror.
“I’m your sister, Pervis,” she said gently. “My name is Aria.”
Pervis stared at her in shock. “My sister? But I don’t have any family. I’ve been alone since I was five years old.”
“Not anymore,” Aria replied, taking his hand in hers. “I’ve been looking for you for years. And now that I’ve found you, I’m here to take you home.”
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
