Isolation

Chapter 3

Do-yoon woke up after a good sleep. He sat up and blinked his eyes. His lips were not swollen compared to yesterday.

Then the sunshine from his right caught his eyes. It illuminated his bed and floors. It was vibrant and carefree. A sense of belongingness as the trees rustled with bliss. Though he couldn't hear the sound of its whispers, his lips curled into a sweet smile. 

He felt that he could live again. Thinking of going back to school. But he wondered if the man who took him, whom he still didn’t know its name, would allow him to.

I kissed a man. And I don’t even know his name. 

He touched his lips for a moment. Remembering last night’s first kiss. 

What should I do if I see him again? 

Would he do that again?

And what would I do from now on? 

But when he saw the shackle on his left foot, everything he hoped for turned astray. He panicked. He looked anxious and his forehead was sweating out of fright. As the shackle made a loud noise on the floor, he ran toward the door. It was locked. He banged the door―as loudly as he could.  

“Ah! Ah!” he looked petrified as he yelled. “O-open! Open! Please!” His words were slurring and stuttering. His voice echoed in the second floor corridor. But there was no one outside. 

As if no one was there to save him. 

He was left all alone once again. 

Quietness filled his room. It was airy as the rays of sunshine touched the floors. 

A few hours later. Do-yoon gave up on calling for help. His tears dried up. He slid his back against the door. And sat down on the polished floor. He felt neglected. And it ached his heart, like how his foster father locked him in a dark room. 

He pulled the shackle. Its end was nailed to the concrete wall, closer to the en-suite bathroom. 

He felt miserable. But in his mind, he couldn’t get angry even if he wanted to. 

The people around him didn’t appreciate him at all. He kept quiet and did not retaliate. They treated him like a mutt, and he begged like a stray dog. But even an abandoned dog gets a warm home. They were well protected by their owners. 

But none of this good life had stayed in his heart. They were all deep wounds left by the family who later deserted him—because of his disability. 

Do-yoon stood up. The dewy tears from his pale cheeks dropped and stained the lacquered wood floor. He held his stomach. He was hungry. 

How many days will they let me starve again?

The dark days when his father starved him for three days without food and water for a single mistake. Enough to torment him that he couldn't even get up, leaving him in isolation for a week.  

He wobbled as he approached the edge of the bed. He crawled and lay. He curled up his knees, sobbing and in stomach pain. 

But a few hours later, the door unlocked. His eyes jolted as he sat up. It was an old lady, bringing him porridge and a cup of water. The lady curled a polite smile without a word. 

Do-yoon’s eyes were in disbelief when the lady put down the food tray on the left bedside table and faced him. She started using sign language. But he, who had never done or taught sign language, was something new in his eyes. 

He crossed-waved his hands, and said in a breaking tone, “I can’t, u-under…stand.”

The woman understood that he couldn't comprehend her hand gestures. So she took a small pad and a pen out of her skirt pocket. She wrote as he looked a little wary of her. 

She showed it to him. 

“I’m Martha, the new housekeeper. I can’t hear and I can’t talk. 

I’ll come here to make you food. Please eat. 

Mr. Lee will come back in the evening.” 

Without saying anything, he showed Martha the shackles on his left foot. Martha’s eyes shot open. She looked at him with so much pity in her eyes. She felt sorry for him.

“Please, help,” he said in a tense tone. He added, “I-I w-want to l-leave.” He tightened his lips as he wiped his tears. 

Martha again wrote. 

“I’m sorry. But I can’t help you. 

But for now, please eat first. I will not leave.” 

Martha’s lips curved into a genuine smile. 

Do-yoon was obedient and never said no to elders. Even though he was suffering all his life, he always showed kindness to them. And for him, with no money and no proper education, all he could ever do was endure every waking day of his life. 

After he ate, Martha took the food tray away. When she was about to leave, he stopped her by grabbing her left side skirt. Martha looked back and curled a grin on her face. He understood Martha’s expression. It was telling him, she would not leave the house. 

He let go. 

Secretary Choi hired Martha in a rush. She was a 40-year-old non-speaking person. But she had been learning sign language. She has an older brother who was in the hospital. And she worked as a server in an outskirt restaurant.

To clear her debts, she must work as a housekeeper.  

He gave her a strict schedule to follow. And one of them was not to help Do-yoon leave the place. Feed him three times a day. And only Mr. Lee could take the shackles off his foot, if necessary. 

Martha agreed with the terms and conditions. But after what she saw today, she sympathized with him. She couldn’t help him but only tended to his needs. 

The remaining hours felt secluded and quiet. Do-yoon was again hidden from the world, in an unfamiliar place and room. There were some books that he tried to read but couldn’t understand what they all meant. But luckily, Martha left the pad of paper and pen for him to use. 

To treat himself from boredom rather than sulking throughout the day―he decided to write anything that came to his mind. To appease himself from feeling sad and lonely. His penmanship wasn’t that good-looking. But he had a pretty face. His amber eyes were spellbinding. 

As the sky was about to set in the west, Do-yoon had his dinner. Martha wrote to him that she’ll come again tomorrow. 

By 9:00 pm, he was gazing at the stars by the window. The moon was bright, and the sound of crickets was rhythmic and repetitive. They were hiding in the bushes surrounding the villa. Though he couldn't hear them from afar, he did feel the knocking sensation in his ears.

He was waiting for Tae-sung. But he didn’t know when Tae-sung would come. His eyes were growing tired as his face was touched by the moonlight. He strolled, and the shackles clanked on the floor. He slid into his bed. Wondering what will happen tomorrow. 

Is he not coming today? 

He felt so alone. Yet his tired eyes began to fall. He dozed off, hugging another pillow in his arms. 

Hours later, Tae-sung arrived by midnight. Two guards had greeted him from the inside. 

“How’s Do-yoon?” Tae-sung asked. He took off his black blazer and gave it to Secretary Choi. 

“He’s asleep, Boss,” his right hand Da-won said.

Da-won arrived an hour earlier than Tae-sung. He had some business to discuss with him before leaving. But he was curious about the recessive omega that Tae-sung locked on the second floor. So, he only took a peek and didn’t see Do-yoon’s face before Tae-sung came back home from a wild party. 

Hmmm. Da-won locked the door and pondered, touching his chin. 

This is weird. The boss never brings someone to the villa unless he’s in a rut. 

I'd better not ask. Then he scratched his head, heading to the first floor to meet Tae-sung.

Tae-sung looked drunk and high. He indulged himself in a lecherous romp in the Dark Club with his alpha friends―that he forgot to wash up. 

The omegas' pheromones and sweat smelled unbearable. Luckily, his underlings were all betas. Except for Secretary Choi and Da-won, who were born alphas. They took strong inhibitors beforehand. 

I should go and check on him. Tae-sung thought and was folding his sleeves up to his elbows. He went upstairs. And Secretary Choi went outside for a moment to make another phone call. Da-won waited for him in the lounge. 

Tae-sung unlocked and opened the door. The moon shone on Do-yoon's bed. He was facing the blackout curtains, sleeping in calmness. 

He sat on the edge of the bed. And Do-yoon moved around to face where he was sitting. His eyes looked surprised. Do-yoon's pure innocence and timid expression were soothing in his eyes. That his uncontrollable boiling sexual desire urged him to strip and ram Do-yoon's hole. His thing bulged. He rubbed his right hand against it. Yet a folded piece of paper caught his eye on the bedside table. 

The tranquillity in his eyes was modest as he read it. 

"I thought I was free. But I’m not. 

I thought I could be happy. But it pains me. 

All I know, his name is Mr. Lee. Father…sold me to him. 

I followed what he asked me to do. 

But why does nobody care for me, too? 

The shackles… It hurts my foot. I hope Mr. Lee comes and takes it off. 

I promise I’m not going to leave. Do-yoon."

He felt a prick in his heart. Yet it didn’t shatter his ego. Instead, he wanted Do-yoon to feel the freedom he sought from the shackles. He checked his left foot. It was bruised, and a part of its skin was peeling. 

Look at you. I left you for a moment. Now you have hurt your ankle. What should I do with you, Do-yoon ssi? He caressed his ankle before untying the shackle so as not to wake him up.

“Hmmm,” Do-yoon murmured from his sleep and was gripping and cuddling his pillow tightly. 

He’s like a child when he’s sleeping like that. 

Then Tae-sung's eyes shifted to his plain shirt. It was crinkled, and Do-yoon's bare skin showed up. He slid his left hand underneath his white shirt and felt his soft skin. He licked his sensual lips. 

What more if I am to devour this maiden's body?

I want to see how he cries. I want to hear how he whimpers for every thrust that I will ravage inside of him. And how many times would he cream out? 

Fuck… I want him so bad, right now. He looked fierce and lustful toward Do-yoon’s innocence. 

“Hmmm,” Do-yoon reacted to his touch. “Warm,” he mumbled. 

Tae-sung smirked. And removed his hand from going further. He then moved the strands of Do-yoon’s soft black hair to the right. A sincere smile curled on his face, and he whispered, “It’s Tae-sung, Do-yoon ssi.” 

He held his forehead. He controlled his lust over Do-yoon until he ripened. I need to be patient if I am to devour him soon. His eyes were like a wolf, gazing at Do-yoon’s calm face. His heart palpitated with his selfish desire. He smirked menacingly into his right palm, “Fuck. You better not run away from me, Do-yoon,” He mumbled with his corrupted mindset, adding, “Or I’ll kill you, myself.” His blood boiled as he clenched his jaw, holding back his desperation, and clasped his left fist. 

His eyes glittered like a raptor who didn’t want to share his prey with anybody. He stood and left the room. He looked back and said, “See you tomorrow, Do-yoon ssi.” Leaving the door unlocked, this time. 

The next day, Martha woke him up. Do-yoon blinked his eyes like he used to. He rubbed it with a gentle touch as he sat up. He looked at Martha, who looked happy. 

As he read the note in front of him. 

“Hurry up! Mr. Lee wants to have breakfast with you.” 

She smiled at Do-yoon. 

He’s here? His eyes looked happy. Yet he felt nervous at the same time.  

When he removed the blanket, the shackle was gone. His eyes were in disbelief. He took a moment to calm his heart. Then his lips curved into a soft grin. He remembered the letter he had written last night. 

It did come true. 

Do-yoon looked at Martha with grateful, teary eyes.