Chapter six: The Unwanted Meal

Chapter 6 – The Unwanted Meal

The silver tray arrived before sunrise, just as dawn's first light pushed its way through the thick, opaque curtains, casting stripes of muted gold across the room.A silent servant wheeled it in, head bowed, avoiding Levi’s eyes as though looking at him were forbidden.

She moved with a quiet efficiency, her presence barely a whisper against the opulent decor of the lavish prison surrounding him. Steam curled up from a porcelain bowl of oatmeal, wisps of warmth dissipating into the chilled air.

Beside it were cut fruit arranged too neatly—cantaloupe and berries, perfect little cubes of pineapple—as though decoration mattered more than sustenance.

A glass of water sat next to a second glass of something red that looked far too much like wine for this hour.Levi’s stomach growled at the sight of the meal, a primal reminder of his body’s needs. But instinct kicked in, and he pushed the tray back across the table with a flick of his wrist.“No,” he muttered, his voice hoarse from disuse.

The servant froze. The word itself hung in the air like a dangerous challenge. She kept her head bowed, whispered, “He’ll know you didn’t touch it,” her tone reminding him of a child warned not to cross an invisible line.Levi's chest tightened.

He always knows.With a stronger, more defiant shove, he sent the tray farther, until it bumped against the wall. The scrape of metal against wood was louder than he expected—almost a challenge to the very authority that loomed over him.

The servant flinched and murmured something too soft to catch before slipping out of the room without another word, her footsteps fading like echoes of the past.The silence left behind was worse than the shame he felt. It wrapped around him, smothering him in a cocoon of desolation.

He could feel it—an oppressive weight of eyes on him, though the curtains were drawn and the room was otherwise empty. An invisible audience, recording his defeat. He paced the confines of the room. Every corner seemed alive with hidden lenses, every shadow a looming threat.

He felt trapped not just by the walls of his gilded cage, but by the unrelenting fear that threatened to paralyze him.By midmorning, the lock clicked.Levi jerked his head toward the door, heart racing in anticipation. Half hoping it was Adrian, the ghost of his past, the brother who would either be a salvation or his doom. Half fearing it was anyone else—the crushing weight of obligation dangling above him like a guillotine.

The door creaked open, revealing Lucien.The man filled the doorway without effort, imposing and formidable, dressed in a dark suit that looked far too sharp for daylight. His presence pulled the air tight around him, as if even the walls held still when he entered.“You didn’t eat,” Lucien said, not a question but a statement, delivered with a tone that implied accusations hidden beneath the surface.Levi folded his arms defensively, trying to keep his voice steady despite the rising tide of anxiety. “I wasn’t hungry.”Lucien's gaze flicked briefly to the untouched tray, his expression unreadable.

He didn’t step closer, yet Levi felt invaded all the same. There was no warmth in Lucien’s eyes—only a clinical interest, as though he were a scientist contemplating the viability of an experiment.“You’ll eat when I tell you,” Lucien murmured, tone smooth and commanding.

He walked to the tray, set his hand on the silver lid, and closed it with a soft click, sealing away the remnants of what had been offered.“Obedience is health. Disobedience is sickness.”Levi’s pulse raced; the words felt like an ultimatum, each syllable laden with unspoken threats. He wanted to shout, to throw the food at him—to reclaim some sense of control. But his body betrayed him, leaving him frozen in place, trembling, the words lodged in his throat like jagged stones.Lucien’s eyes lingered on that tremor, taking in the way fear suffused through Levi's being.

He tilted his head ever so slightly, a hint of a smile curling the corners of his mouth—not in amusement but in something far heavier, something that sent dread sinking deep into Levi’s gut. “Fear looks good on you,” he said quietly, nearly a whisper.Levi swallowed hard, wishing the heat of embarrassment wouldn’t creep up his neck.

“You’ve got the wrong person,” he blurted, desperation bleeding into his words.Lucien finally turned his full attention to him, stepping closer, invading Levi’s personal space. The faint scent of his cologne—clean, sharp, and unsettling—filled the air between them, a volatile mix that made the room feel even smaller.

He leaned in just enough for Levi to feel the weight of his attention pressing down, that sense of inevitability crashing over him like a wave.“I never have the wrong person,” Lucien whispered, each word laced with a certainty that sent Levi's heart plummeting into his stomach. “Remember that.”And just like that, Lucien brushed past him, leaving the room with the same unhurried calm that he carried everywhere, as if everything were under his control.

The door locked behind him, sealing Levi in once more.Levi collapsed against the wall, chest heaving, a mix of frustration and fear swirling within him. His stomach ached—not purely from hunger but from the oppressive weight of Lucien's presence. The thought of touching that food now made him sick, not just because of the threat it represented, but because it was a reminder of his status—the vulnerability that left him stripped of agency, agonizingly aware that obedience might be the only way to survive.

The cameras blinked like insatiable eyes, silently observing him, recording every frayed emotion that flashed across his face.In that moment, the truth crystallized for Levi: the cage was not merely the bars or the locks, nor even the food prepared for him; it was Lucien himself. And it was closing around him, tightening its grip with every cagey word and every calculated glance.

Glaring at the silent walls surrounding him, he realized the fight was not just for physical escape but for his identity, his autonomy—a struggle that would define whether he would emerge a pawn or reclaim his power in this twisted game.With each passing second, Levi resolved that he would most certainly NOT be the pawn in this elaborate setup. If Lucien wanted him to beg for scraps, he would defy that expectation.Though it felt like his will was being eroded, Levi understood he had to gather every ounce of strength to break free. With determination igniting in his chest, he clung to the belief that submission was not his only option; he could fight back—even if it took everything he had to do so.

This expansion elaborates further on Levi's emotional and psychological state and the dynamic between him and Lucien, enriching the narrative to approximately 1000 words. Let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to adjust!