"Who is it?" Karen asked, trying to peer at the screen, but Henry quickly hid it, raising her suspicion even more.

"Don’t tell me you’re in love. Is it your girlfriend?" she teased.

"No," Henry replied, shaking his head a bit too quickly.

"Then... boyfriend?" Karen blurted out, and Henry froze.

Seeing his reaction, Karen's eyes widened in shock and excitement. "Wait, is it really your boyfriend?" she gasped, unable to believe it.

"No..."
Henry nervously grabbed her hands, unsure of how to explain his situation with Diois. There was no way he could tell her that Diois was forcing him.

"Okay, I get it now," Karen said, leaning back into the sofa with a thoughtful look. "So, he likes you and is trying to get closer, but you’re scared, and that’s why you’re running away, right?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No..." Henry protested again.

"Don’t lie to me, I’ve already figured it out," she said, dismissing his denial with a wave of her hand.

Henry watched Karen helplessly. She had already come to her own conclusions, and he didn’t try to correct her. If he did, he’d have to explain his relationship with Diois—and he didn’t even know where to begin.

"Henry..." Karen reached out, taking his hands in hers, gently caressing them.

"You need someone to lean on. Don’t push everyone away," she said softly. "I don’t know much about this person, but maybe he’s the right one. Just give it a try."

Her concern for him was genuine. Henry, feeling lost, forced a faint smile.
"Thanks," he said, pulling her into a hug. But the truth was, he just didn’t want to explain things, so he ended the conversation before it could go any further.

He couldn’t tell her how wrong she was. Diois didn’t love him. In fact, Henry wasn’t even sure what Diois wanted from him.

Silencing his phone, Henry spent the entire day with Karen, trying to distract himself. Later, she dropped him off at work, where he avoided checking his phone, too scared of what Diois’s messages might say.

As the workday came to an end and Henry was changing out of his uniform, he finally couldn’t resist any longer.
He pulled out his phone, but it was dead. Quickly, he plugged it into the charger and went back to finish changing, bracing himself for what he might find once it powered on.
When Henry saw the missed calls and texts from Diois, his phone slipped from his hand in shock. There were more than fifty calls and over a hundred messages.

All the messages simply said his name: "Henry…"

Henry knew exactly what that meant—Diois was furious, beyond reason.

His phone suddenly lit up again, Sofia’s name flashing on the screen. Henry swallowed hard, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath before slowly swiping to answer.

"Henry..." But it wasn’t Sofia—it was Dylan.

"There’s a car waiting for you outside the restaurant. Please, come over," Dylan’s voice was tense, serious.

"I’m not coming," Henry replied stubbornly, ready to hang up. But Dylan’s voice stopped him.

"Henry, don’t make this worse. Diois is already out of control. We’ve been holding him back, but it won’t last much longer. He knows where you are, and we’re only keeping him from you because we don’t want to frighten you. If he comes to find you, we’ll all regret it. Please, come on your own. It’ll be better for everyone. Please..."

Henry hung up the call before Dylan could say more.

Henry bit his lower lip, his mind a blank slate. He quickly walked out through the staff exit, and just as Dylan had said, a black car was parked right at the door.
Two men in black suits stood beside it, and as soon as they spotted Henry, one of them immediately opened the car door.

"Sir, please," the man said, gesturing for him to enter.

Henry's grip tightened on his bag, hesitating for a moment.

"Sir, we’re running late," one of the men urged, noticing his reluctance.

With nervous glances at the men, Henry finally slipped into the back seat. The warmth inside the car contrasted with his trembling body—he felt cold, as if sitting on ice. His mind remained foggy, and before he could collect his thoughts, the car came to a stop.

Peering out the window, Henry’s eyes widened in shock. A grand house—more like a palace—stood before him. It was massive, and Henry had the unsettling feeling.

A lively party was in full swing. People were drinking, dancing, and laughing. Then it hit him—this was Diois’s birthday. Relief flooded Henry’s chest.

Maybe Dylan had overreacted. Everything looked fine. Maybe Diois wasn’t as angry as Henry had feared. After all, he hadn’t done anything too serious, right?

The guards led Henry toward the house, passing through the crowd. As he walked, Henry scanned the area, trying to spot Sofia. She had been excited about this day for weeks, so she must be enjoying herself somewhere.

Once inside, Henry was left speechless. The house was enormous and luxurious, with every detail dripping in wealth. Even the smallest items looked like they were worth millions.

"Sir, this way," the guard’s voice snapped Henry back to reality.

He quickly followed, leading to the second floor. His steps faltered when he spotted a man leaning casually against a door frame, arms folded. His intense gaze was locked on Henry.

The man was taller than Diois, his eyes a deep black. But aside from that, he looked eerily similar to Diois—right down to the dangerous smirk playing on his lips. "So, you’re the one?" he drawled lazily, his voice strikingly similar to Diois’s.

"Go in, Good luck" the man said, stepping aside and gesturing toward the door.

Henry swallowed hard, his throat dry as his eyes moved to the door.
A wave of cold washed over him, despite the beads of sweat forming on his skin.
His legs trembled, but somehow, he forced himself to step forward. His breath hitched as he took in the mess scattered across the room.

Then, his gaze landed on Dylan and Sofia.

Sofia looked like life had been drained from her—pale, terrified. When she saw Henry, tears flooded her eyes, and she rushed toward him as if to embrace him, but stopped suddenly, hesitating. It was as though she was too afraid to touch him. Henry’s eyes flicked to Dylan, whose face was drawn, heavy with unease.

"Henry, go in. Diois is waiting for you," Dylan said, nodding toward the next door.

Henry glanced nervously at the door, dread pooling in his stomach. He took a step forward, but Dylan’s hand landed gently on his shoulder, stopping him.

"Once you’re inside, keep your eyes down. Don’t say anything except ‘sorry.’ Whatever you do, don’t challenge him. Please... make him believe you won’t leave. Do you understand?"
What that supposed to mean?

Henry’s heart pounded. Dylan’s words made no sense to him, only adding to his confusion and fear. Henry pushed the door open without a word, but just as he was about to step inside, Dylan handed him a first-aid box.

"You'll need this," Dylan muttered, his voice grim.