Chapter 14
“…Senior?”
The silent monitor briefly flickered before changing the screen. A man claiming to be Dae entered the central control room.
He tilted his head, seemingly worried about my lack of reaction, and met my gaze. His golden eyes, reflecting the light like ripples under the sun, shimmered. His gentle, kind expression—almost as if he were about to intertwine our fingers—broke something loose within the tension clenched between my teeth.
Ah.
It was a sigh.
A sigh at my own ignorance, for letting down my guard just because he wore a prison guard uniform. A sigh at how his unreal beauty had stolen my breath away.
How close was he, really?
If I had exhaled just a bit more deeply, my breath might’ve touched his sharp, blade-like nose.
If his perfectly closed lips had parted even slightly, if he had smiled coolly the moment he entered, I might’ve felt his chilly breath graze my face.
I couldn’t look away.
Facing Deon had felt like being trapped by overwhelming fear, but these golden eyes slithered around me like a snake twining around my face—devouring my existence before I even noticed.
He was a man in whom masculine lines and beauty coexisted. Perhaps due to that strange harmony, even though his expression was full of concern, he still radiated an unreal, almost divine aura—like a being sculpted by a god’s meticulous plan.
“You’re not saying anything… Are you feeling unwell, Seni—”
Before I knew it, I had grabbed his firm wrist.
It was an instinctive response to fear of his approaching hand. But the moment I touched him, the soft warmth in his gaze sharpened into something else—suspicious, calculating.
“S-sorry. I’m just really shaken up…”
Thinking fast, I lightly ran my hand over his thick wrist, as if that had been my intention all along.
“Is Dae okay? I heard the transmission and came here thinking something had happened to you. I was so worried.”
This man is Dae. He’s Lemoni’s junior—at least, that’s who I thought he was. I didn’t know why he was pretending to be a prison guard in front of me, but for now, pretending not to notice was my best option.
I silently hypnotized myself, reaching for the loosely tied necktie around his collar. What does a senior do for their junior in a situation like this? Since I had already checked his wrist, maybe I should check something else—my elaborate act continued.
Murmuring something like a worried comment, I tugged lightly at the tie, but suddenly his long, thick fingers bent slightly and covered both the backs of my hands.
“Senior.”
My pale, small hands seemed to vanish inside his.
“Tying it like this will just make it come undone again.”
His grip was gentle, like an adult teaching a child how to walk, helping me get a better hold on the necktie.
“Unless you’re trying to undress me, you should tie it like this instead.”
A trace of laughter slipped through his low voice.
Before I could even feel a chill, his hand naturally folded mine, his fingers tightly closing around mine like a trap. The tie between the collar was now slightly tightened.
It was so strange. I had tried to stop him from touching me, but somehow, I had ended up completely within his grasp.
“Ah… I see. I’ve never tied someone else’s tie before, so I didn’t know.”
Realizing the situation too late, I carefully pulled my hands away—only for his hand, like a snake’s mouth, to clamp down on my wrist.
“Nice.”
His innocent mask peeled away ever so slightly.
“Because I’m your first.”
He was smiling. The corners of his lips curved like someone falling in love, and the golden eyes gazing at me were filled with unmistakable interest.
This behavior and that relaxed smile—this wasn’t Dae anymore. In fact, the moment he held my hand, this man had begun to gradually shed Dae’s identity.
The awkward atmosphere quickly tightened.
It had to be Dae. For me to stay safe, this man had to be Dae.
“A-anyway, the situation’s not good…”
Trying to ignore that subtle change, I forced myself to speak. After observing me silently for a long time, he finally looked away.
“You’re right. But I’m just relieved you’re alive, Senior Lemoni.”
That meant he’d keep watching me—for now.
Only then did the breath I was holding escape my lips. But this was only the beginning.
Ian Ermenst.
The youngest son of the Ermenst Duchy in the Southern Empire.
According to the original novel, the Ermenst Duchy had long served as the loyal bloodhounds of the imperial family—handling all the empire’s darkest secrets. Ian was imprisoned as a first-class criminal in place of a runaway prince.
The precious youngest son, in prison?
If it were me, I’d oppose it to the grave, but the Ermenst Duke—devoid of blood or tears—was different.
The Ermenst family was composed of demi-divine beings—half-human, half-vampire hybrids.
With absurd strength and surreal beauty, these beings began to quietly seize control over the Southern Empire. Their service to the imperial family was just part of their long-term plan.
As trust in them deepened, the imperial family began to reveal their most monstrous secrets.
The once devoted emperor, who only had eyes for the empress, now indulged in both men and women under the Ermenst’s protection.
The empress, who ruled politics and society, owed much of her success to the intelligence gathered through blood-drenched torture by the Ermensts.
Even the crown prince, who vowed to die for the honor of House Gold Trion, secretly envied the Ermenst family. But that admiration turned twisted.
When the prince discovered they were not human but demi-divine beings, he began indulging in blood himself. He killed 40 women and bathed in their blood. This atrocity was pinned on Ian Ermenst.
The truth? Ian didn’t enjoy bathing in blood. He simply liked blood more than the other sons.
But that alone was enough to imprison him in Drace Prison as a substitute for the prince.
His vampiric tendencies made him dangerously blood-hungry. During missions, if he liked a woman, he wouldn’t kill her—he’d imprison her and drink her blood over time. Even his own family found this hobby troublesome.
Eventually, Ian was imprisoned as a Level 5 criminal in Drace. Just days later, he was inexplicably reclassified as Level 1.
Even the novel never revealed why.
Of course, I had read to the end—but since Shackles in My Hands was a rated-19 romance, every character existed solely to serve the steamy scenes.
What I remembered best was the scene where Ian, catching a whiff of the heroine Lesna’s blood, locked her in his cell, soothed her sweetly, then bit into her neck.
To sum it all up: Ian was a psychopath.
Sweat gathered in my palm.
I didn’t know why Ian Ermenst was showing interest in me, but compared to Deon, the situation was still manageable—for now.
As long as he kept playing this strange roleplay, there was still room to escape.
“I think we should check the situation.”
I swallowed dryly and tried to keep a neutral expression. Since I was playing the senior, I figured using a tone that showed I was trying to protect him was best.
“You’ve only been working for a month and something like this happens—how unfortunate. For now, stay here. This is the central control room, so it’s safer than elsewhere. I’ll go to the parlor and assess the situation.”
I subtly tried to slip out, but suddenly, his broad chest in that thick uniform blocked my path.
“You’re saying you’ll go somewhere dangerous, Senior?”
Damn. Of course that wouldn’t work.
“No. Everything is dangerous right now.”
What now?
To avoid being sucked into that dangerously alluring face, I had to say something—anything.
“And you have something else to do, Dae.”
At my sudden subject change, he tilted his head, amused.
“…Me?”
“Yes. We’re in an emergency. As a first-class officer, I’m giving you an order.”
His gaze narrowed at my commanding tone, but surprisingly, he accepted it with interest.
“Of course, Senior.”
What is he scheming?
Hiding my breaking expression, I asked,
“You moved from Block B to C before, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then could you go to Block B, 7th floor again? We’re out of food. There might still be some left in the pantry there.”
“Yes, I understand.”
“We’ll share it when you return.”
“You’ll give me some too?”
That had just been a throwaway line to wrap things up, but for the first time, the smooth conversation paused.
My steps halted as I passed him.
“Of course. Aren’t you hungry, Dae?”
“…I am, but…”
Does this man actually get flustered? His vague response surprised me. But as he caught up in a few strides, he leaned close to my ear and whispered with discomfort.
“My tastes are a little picky.”
Realizing what that “taste” meant, I froze like ice.
“When I return, please feed me something I’ll like.”
Then, licking his lower lip suggestively, he walked out of the control room with calm steps.
I have to run.
I must escape.
