The silence stretched after his last words.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Lena didn't look away.
Her hands were clenched at her sides, her breathing uneven—but she held her ground.
"You're insane," she said quietly.
He didn't respond.
Didn't react.
Just watched her.
That same stillness again.
It made her angrier.
"You think this makes sense?" she snapped. "Kidnapping people? Talking about things that 'can't be taken'? You lost someone—that's horrible—but this?"
She gestured sharply around the room.
"This is madness."
Still nothing.
Then—
His phone vibrated.
The sound cut through the room.
He picked it up.
Turned slightly away.
"Speak."
His voice was low. Controlled.
Lena watched him, tension tightening in her chest.
A pause.
Then—
"I see."
Another pause.
Longer.
His expression didn't change.
But something in his eyes sharpened.
"Understood."
He ended the call.
No explanation.
No reaction.
He simply placed the phone back on the table.
Lena frowned. "What was that?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he reached for the bottle and poured wine into a glass.
Then another.
The quiet sound of liquid filled the space between them.
"I'm not drinking that," Lena said immediately.
He slid the glass toward her anyway.
"You will."
Her jaw tightened. "You really think—"
"I'm not asking."
The calm in his voice made it worse.
"You don't have a choice here," he added.
Something in her chest tightened—but she didn't move.
"I'm not touching it," she said again.
He looked at her then.
Really looked.
And this time, there was no trace of patience left.
"You still think this is a negotiation," he said quietly.
She didn't answer.
Didn't back down.
For a second—neither of them moved.
Then he stepped forward.
Fast.
Before she could react, his hand caught her wrist, pulling her off balance.
"Let go of me—!"
Too late.
His grip tightened, controlled and unyielding.
The other hand forced the glass toward her.
She struggled, twisting, trying to pull away—but his hold didn't break.
"Swallow," he said.
Low.
Cold.
She shook her head, trying to resist, but the rim pressed against her lips.
Some of the liquid spilled—but not enough.
Her breath hitched.
Her body betrayed her.
She swallowed.
He released her immediately.
Stepped back.
Like nothing had happened.
Lena staggered away from him, wiping her mouth, anger burning through her.
"You—"
Her voice shook.
"You're—"
The words slipped.
Something wasn't right.
Her vision blurred at the edges.
She blinked.
Hard.
The room tilted slightly.
"No…" she whispered.
Her fingers tightened against the table.
Her strength was fading too fast.
"What did you—"
Her knees gave out.
She tried to catch herself—
Failed.
He caught her before she hit the ground.
Effortlessly.
Like he had expected it.
Her head dropped against his shoulder.
Her breathing slowed.
Her body went slack.
Darkness closed in.
And then—
Nothing.
He held her there for a moment longer.
Then lowered her into the chair.
Carefully.
Precisely.
He straightened.
Adjusted his sleeve.
Picked up his phone again.
"This is proceeding as expected," he said calmly.
A brief pause.
"No changes."
Another pause.
"That will be all."
He ended the call.
The room fell silent again.
His gaze shifted back to Lena.
Unconscious.
Still.
Exactly where she needed to be.
He studied her for a moment.
Then turned away.
"They always believe they're in control," he murmured.
A faint pause.
"But the outcome…"
He stepped into the shadows.
"…was decided long before they arrived."