Trapped I can't escape from the Billionaire

Marco and Letta were engrossed in their respective books. Letta's idea of reading at the library seemed to have sparked Marco's interest in picking up the unfinished books he had left aside. Occasionally, Marco glanced at his wife, who was completely absorbed in the romantic novel he had bought for her a few months ago. Meanwhile, he himself delved into a dense book on various economic indicators and the world economy.

"Do you want something to drink or eat? Maybe I can bring it over here," Marco said, making Letta nod her head without responding, which made Marco smile. Marco then gazed at his wife with intense admiration, taking in her beautiful eyes, high and small nose, and her cute, round lips, even though her face seemed pale at the moment. But that didn't diminish the beauty his wife possessed in the slightest, prompting Letta to return her husband's gaze. "Don't tease me. I'm focused on reading," Letta said, prompting Marco to roll his smile.

"That's not a book. It's just a romantic novel with love stories that make you smile to yourself," Marco retorted, causing Letta to shrug nonchalantly.

"Still, it's reading material, isn't it?" Letta replied.

"Well, alright, suit yourself. Do you want some snacks or a drink? You need to fill your stomach. Don't you also have to prepare breast milk for Freya?" Marco asked, finally catching Letta's gaze. "Okay, maybe some fruit snacks," Letta replied, causing Marco to nod.

"Well then, wait a moment," Marco said, about to get up from his seat when the ringing of his phone halted his movement. Letta resumed her reading in front of her. A few minutes passed, and Letta felt her throat starting to get dry, but Desi or Marco had not yet brought anything for her. Finally, Letta stood up and began to walk to find a waiter she could ask for help to bring her a drink.

Letta scanned the library surroundings, but there was no sign of any waiters or guards passing by. This made Letta continue walking, but her steps halted when she arrived at the back corridor, which appeared to be locked. She approached the door and felt curious as to why Marco had closed it like that. When Letta touched the lock, it suddenly didn't seem to be properly secured. This made Letta focus her gaze around, thinking it wouldn't hurt to take a look around. Furthermore, Marco had already stated that there was nothing important there. Therefore, the possibility of damaging it would not make her husband angry. Eventually, Letta unlocked the padlock and pushed the creaking wooden door open with force.

Letta could see that the corridor was no different from the one in Marco's large house. Everything looked very intriguing, but Letta furrowed her brow when she stopped in a very different room at the end of the building.

"Could this be the back building limited by the high fortress outside?" Letta thought. She continued to step forward, examining every part of the corridor. It turned out that the corridor was farther than Letta had anticipated. It was truly at the back of Marco's house, and Letta eventually stopped in that small room. There was a small wooden door that looked very different from the opulent rooms in the house. It felt more like a warehouse, and as Letta pushed it, she began to feel that something was off with what Marco or Desi had described.

"That's not a warehouse. It looks like a small room. It is indeed a room. I see a small bed, a small wardrobe, but very minimal lighting," Letta finally entered the room slowly, and she could feel her breath getting choked by the dust that filled the room.

"Why doesn't Marco use this room? Could it be too small, so he doesn't use it?" Letta muttered, turning her body to look around the room. There was also a small-sized bathroom inside. Clearly, it was a very different room from the others. Even the maid's room was larger and better than this.

Letta then walked towards the small square-sized window, which allowed air and sunlight to enter.

"Then why is the window only this small?" Letta murmured, reaching out her hand to touch the window. However, for some reason, like before, it was like a fleeting shadow that now crossed her mind, causing Letta to retract her hand. "What was that?" Letta murmured again because she felt as if someone, a woman, had lived in that room before. But why was she the only one who could feel it, Letta wondered.

"Whose room is this, actually?" Letta murmured again, about to reach for the wardrobe next to her. However, once again, it happened, as shadows began to embed in Letta's mind. Even her ears started ringing as her mind began to hear a woman crying, sobbing bitterly, and moaning in pain, causing Letta to try to cover her ears, but the sound only grew louder.

"I think I should leave this room," Letta muttered, trying to exit the room. However, her steps suddenly halted when she saw a woman crouched in the bathroom.

Letta furrowed her brow. She was sure it was just her imagination, but why did it feel so real? The woman appeared to be crying, hugging her knees, her disheveled hair covering her face, causing Letta to furrow her brow even more. Who was the woman who had lived in this small room? Letta thought. Letta knew it wasn't real, it was just a figure in her mind, but her steps stopped when, the next moment, her eyes widened.

As the woman slowly began to lift her face, Letta knew for sure it was her own figure she was seeing, but different from her current self. The woman resembling her looked very distressing, with many bruises on her body, not to mention the expression of pain and disappointment now evident on her face, as if she was truly desperate with her current life, leaving Letta speechless. How could her own figure look so heartbreaking? Had she really experienced something so painful in her life? Letta thought, feeling her head starting to throb.

Letta had to think hard. Why was the figure of the woman in this small room at the back of Marco's large house? What was actually on her mind right now, causing Letta to bow her body as her head became unbearable. Even her footsteps felt weak. Her breath began to race as she tried to remember everything. Letta was sure that something must have happened in that small room, whether it was a hallucination or something from her past. Letta could only groan in pain now as the shadows started to blur in her memory, the distressing woman in the bathroom no longer visible.

But it was replaced with the pain in her head, making Letta unable to bear the weight of her body any longer, until she felt her entire consciousness slipping away, collapsing on the cold floor with sweat drenching her body, trying to force herself to remember what she shouldn't remember anymore, because Letta only received a sense of pain and disappointment.