Chapter 4

The tattoo was a constant, itching reminder on his skin. An 'E' for Emily. A brand of ownership he could never wash off. He traced its outline in the dark, the raised ink a map of his captivity. It wasn't just ink; it was his faith, his curse. It was the symbol of the promise he made to a dead man, a promise to protect her, even if it meant becoming her prisoner.

He finally fell into a restless sleep, his dreams filled with the ghost of a melody he could no longer play, his fingers twitching with the memory of guitar strings.

The next morning, Emily' s assistant, Sarah Jenkins, knocked on his door.

"Ms. Stone expects you at the company's anniversary gala tonight," Sarah said, her voice professional but her eyes holding a trace of pity. She avoided looking at the new bruise on his cheek.

"I'm not going," Noah said.

"It's not a request," Sarah replied, her tone apologetic. She left a black suit bag hanging on his doorknob.

He knew there was no point in arguing.

That evening, he put on the suit. It fit perfectly, a reminder that Emily knew his body better than he did. He looked in the mirror and saw a stranger wearing his face, a well-dressed puppet ready for the show.

The gala was a glittering affair held in a massive ballroom. Music producers, artists, and executives mingled, their laughter and chatter a dull roar in Noah's ears. He stood in a corner, a glass of water in his hand, trying to be invisible.

But Emily wouldn't allow that. She found him, dragging him into conversations, introducing him as her "most brilliant protégé." People looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and awe. They saw the success story, not the man underneath. They saw Emily's creation.

Then he saw her with David. They were on the dance floor, moving together under the spotlight. David' s hand was on the small of her back, his smile triumphant. Emily looked radiant, laughing at something David whispered in her ear. They looked like a power couple, perfect and untouchable.

The sight twisted something inside him. It wasn't jealousy, not anymore. It was a profound sense of loss, a deep ache for a past that was gone forever.

He managed to slip away, finding a quiet balcony overlooking the city. The cool night air was a small relief. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, he was back in another time.

A small, dimly lit club. The smell of stale beer and sweat. He and Emily, sitting at a back table after a show. They were young, full of dreams. She was sketching a logo for their band on a napkin, her eyes bright with excitement. "We're going to make it, Noah," she had said, her belief in him absolute. "You and me and Liam. We're going to be legends."

The memory was so vivid it hurt. He opened his eyes, the dream shattering against the harsh reality of the present. The beautiful, hopeful girl from his memory was gone, replaced by the cold, controlling woman on the dance floor.

"Hiding out here all alone?"

David's voice startled him. He turned to see David leaning against the railing, a drink in his hand.

"What do you want, David?" Noah asked, his voice tired.

"Just making sure Emily's pet project isn't about to jump," David sneered. He took a sip of his drink, his eyes scanning Noah's frail frame. "You look like hell. That 'stress' is really taking a toll on you, huh?"

Noah didn't answer. He just wanted to be left alone.

"You know, she still talks about you," David said, his tone conversational, but his words were laced with poison. "Talks about your talent. It's pathetic, really. She's clinging to a ghost."

Noah' s breathing hitched. He tried to control the slight tremor in his hands, a tell-tale sign of the disease's progression. He shoved them in his pockets.

David noticed. "What's wrong? Getting the shakes? You should be careful, Noah. A musician with shaky hands isn't much of a musician."

He took a step closer. "Stay away from her. She's mine now. You had your chance and you blew it. You' re nothing but a memory she needs to forget."

David then did something unexpected. He stumbled, as if he'd tripped, and his drink sloshed forward, splashing all over the front of Noah's suit.

"Oh, clumsy me," David said with a fake apology, but his eyes were gleaming with malice.

"I don't want anything to do with her or you," Noah said, his voice flat as he looked down at the dark stain on his white shirt. "Just leave me alone."

"Is that a threat?" David asked, his voice rising, loud enough for people nearby to hear. "Are you threatening me, Noah?"

The accusation was absurd, a clear set-up. And just as planned, Emily appeared in the doorway of the balcony, her expression turning to ice as she saw the scene.