Leon's POV
I had lost all sense of time.
Trapped in this lifeless void, where the sterile white walls bled into one another, time had become meaningless. I couldn't tell whether it had been days, weeks, or even months since I first set foot in this place. But one thing was certain—my women must be worried sick.
I should have left them a message. At the very least, a single word to let them know what I was about to do.
But it was too late for that now.
My current reality was a cold, isolated prison cell. The design was meticulous, reinforced with materials that reeked of paranoia—walls engineered to withstand destruction, doors that locked with an ominous finality. There was nothing here but a single white bed, and even that felt more like an insult than comfort. My wrists and ankles were shackled, thick chains anchoring me to the wall, their cold bite a constant reminder of my captivity.
I exhaled slowly.
How long are they planning to keep me here?
