Caught In The Very Trap I Tried To Set

My wife of three years kept a diary. In it, she detailed a hundred ways to stage the perfect kidnapping and psychological captivity.

But I knew she didn't want to trap me. She wanted to trap her stepbrother.

I played the oblivious husband, secretly taking notes.

Because I wanted to trap my stepsister.

The day I realized her diary was full, I decided it was time to activate my own captivity plan.

I placed the finalized divorce papers in the study, right after preparing the handcuffs.

It wasn't long after that I found myself staring silently at the steel cuffs around my own wrists and ankles.

...Why was the world so much more twisted than I ever imagined?

I held the leather-bound journal, barely containing the surge of adrenaline.

Page after page, I devoured the new entries. Camille Becketts One Hundred Captivity Methods was updated, and the additions were staggering. My soul sister.

Camille and I had an indifferent, purely strategic marriage for three years. I knew her heart belonged to someone else: her innocent, Golden Boy stepbrother, Noah Abbott.

Id always assumed Cami was the cold, reserved typethe kind who kept her deepest desires locked away. Now, I knew the truth. She was a full-blown, beautiful psychopath.

The further I read, the more shocked I became. The methodology, the sheer audacity, the level of intensity... Camille hid it well. If her sweet, delicate stepbrother ever saw these fantasies, hed probably collapse.

But I was different.

I was a fellow psycho.

I studied diligently, copying the key steps and phrases into my phones notes app.

Just as I was about to turn the last page, my phone buzzed with a video call from Noah.

I quickly slipped out of Camis bedroom and answered with a practiced, easy smile. Hey, Noah. Whats up?

Ash. The boys face, pale and handsome, appeared on screen. He offered a slight, sheepish grin. Cami wont be coming home tonight.

My face froze for a split second.

Though our marriage was cold, Cami always came home. This was the first time she hadnt.

Was she making her move?

But she had to get the divorce first!

I frowned. Where is she? Put her on the phone.

Noah handed the phone over.

Camis stunning, aloof face filled the screen. Her thin lips barely moved. What is it?

Come home tonight, I said, trying to keep my voice neutral.

Her brow twitched. Do you need something?

Did I need a reason to ask my wife to come home? Was she that impatient?

I wasnt even this desperate yet!

I ran a hand through my hair. Yeah, I do. We need to talk. Properly.

A silence stretched between us.

Noah took the phone back. His clear eyes met mine. Ash, if my sister doesnt want to go back, dont pressure her.

I was frustrated with the oblivious kid. If I didnt drag Cami home, he was the one who was going to end up in cuffs tonight.

I took a deep breath, ready to plead my case, but Camis frigid voice cut me off:

If youre so bored, go find something to occupy yourself.

I paused.

Right. Shes playing the disinterested wife while secretly plotting to chain up her stepbrother. She probably cant wait to check off everything on that diary list.

Noah gave me a helpless shrug. You heard my sister, Ash.

He hung up.

I stood silent for a long moment, then sighed.

Returning to Camis room, I picked up the journal again. Unconsciously, I flipped to the final page, realizing only now that she had completely filled the book.

I noticed something starkly different from the earlier, explicit pages. Her last sentence, written in clean, forceful script, read:

[Compared to all of this, I only ever wanted to hold you.]

I stared at the line.

After a while, I slowly closed the diary and returned it to its place.

My worst fear hadn't materialized.

Camille returned home the next day. Her demeanor was as distant and detached as ever, even under my probing stare.

Are you attending the gala tonight? she asked.

I was momentarily confused, then remembered the social obligation. It was a major commercial eventpractically every notable figure in the city would be there.

Of course, I answered casually. Wouldnt want you to be without a proper date, would I?

She ignored the jab. After smoothing a crease in her sleeve with a long, elegant finger, she walked upstairs toward the study.

I watched her back, realizing my mistake.

She probably hoped I wouldn't go. Then her date could legitimately be her stepbrother.

I sighed in annoyance.

But I had to go.

My stepsister, Sloane Albright, would definitely be there. It was a rare chance to see her. I couldnt afford to miss it.

...

I spent too long selecting the perfect suit.

When I arrived, I scanned the room for Camille only to find Noah already standing beside her. The young man was beaming, a perfect picture of youthful sweetness.

I nursed a drink in a quiet corner, keeping my distance.

My friend, Miles, joined me. He narrowed his eyes at the couple. They arent blood-related, right?

I glanced at him and shook my head. Even Miles could see their intimacy was beyond the norm.

Miles smirked, his tone unclear. Just a heads up, Noah has mentioned more than once that his sister would do anything for him. Including ditching you when you had a fever.

I paused. Oh. So that rainy night I was burning up, and Camille was nowhere to be found, she was with Noah.

They must just be close, I mumbled.

Miles tipped his chin toward a specific spot in the room. How come youre not that close with your stepsister?

I followed his gaze.

Sloane Albright was wearing a perfectly tailored charcoal gown. The sophisticated styling couldn't mask her vibrant, commanding beauty. She was engaged in a relaxed conversation.

Then, as if sensing my eyes, she looked up and scanned the room, her gaze finding mine.

We held eye contact across the distance.

I was the first to look away. ...Every family is different, I guess.

Miles shrugged. Suit yourself. Just dont come crying to me for a place to stay when Cami eventually files for divorce.

As if on cue, Noah took Camis arm, intertwining his with hers.

Cami paused, her cold expression softening as she looked down at his hand.

She didn't stop him. She didn't pull away.

Miles looked at me with open pity.

I was taken aback. I was right here, in the same room, yet Camille still indulged him so openly. A dozen curious, scrutinizing eyes were already darting between us.

I pressed my fingers to my temple.

I remembered the message my father had sent recently: Youve been married to Camille all this time, and you still haven't won her over? How useless are you, Albert?

It wasn't my fault. She was already taken.

Miless voice dripped with sarcasm. They look utterly infatuated with each other. Its almost like you were the one who intruded on their romance.

His words made me halt. I looked at him sharply. Do you think Noah likes her?

Are you serious? he countered. Cant you see the puppy-dog eyes and the blush?

I was quiet for a moment. What if hes just really dependent on his stepsister?

Stop lying to yourself, Ash, Miles deadpanned.

I stood there, rooted to the spot.

It wasnt entirely my denial. Before Cami and I married, Noah and I were close friends. Id seen that same blush and shyness on his face when we were out together. He just seemed to stop clinging to me after the wedding.

...

If Miles was right, and Noah liked her, then why did Camille write that psychopathic diary?

If they were mutually in love, why didnt she just divorce me and be with Noah?

She was powerful enough now. She could divorce me and marry anyone she wanted without consequence.

Did she genuinely prefer the idea of forced love?

I drained my glass, trying to push the confusing thoughts away.

Eventually, Noah and Camille came over to me.

Noah smiled, his cheeks dimpling. Ash, Ive been hogging my sister all night. Are you mad?

I waved a hand dismissively. Whatever makes you happy.

Only then did I notice Camis dark eyes fixed on me.

I offered what I thought was a thoughtful smile. Its fine, Cami. You two enjoy yourselves. Dont worry about me.

Camilles tone was cold. It looks like youre having a good time yourself.

I blinked. I wasnt, really. Unless you counted the few furtive glances Id managed to sneak at Sloane Albright, I wasn't having fun at all.

Thinking of Sloane, I instinctively tried to look in her direction.

My view was immediately blocked by Camilles tall, slender figure. Her expression was completely blank.

Seriously? I didn't care what the two of you were doing, just don't block my view of Sloane! I cursed under my breath.

Noah lightly tugged on Camis arm, his voice a soft whine. Lets not bother Ash anymore. I have some friends who are dying to meet you, Sis.

Camille gave a slight nod. Alright.

They turned and walked away.

I let out a long, quiet sigh.

Camille was cold and dismissive toward me, but immediately soft and yielding toward Noah. The hypocrite.

I stood alone, again feeling the pity and derision of the crowd.

Little brother.

The clear, melodic voice made me turn instantly.

Sloane Albright was smiling faintly.

It took me a second to regain my composure. Hi.

Sloane gave a sudden, knowing laugh. I saw you chatting just now, so I didnt want to interrupt.

I managed a weak smile. It was nothing.

She asked abruptly, Is Camille treating you well?

I was stunned. What?

Sloanes thin lips pressed together. Before she could say anything else, a man her age walked up.

He greeted me politely, then turned to Sloane. Sloane, your mother sent me to find you.

Sloane replied calmly, Ill be there in a minute.

The man gave a teasing smile. Do you really have so much to talk about with your little brother?

Come on, he said, lightly taking her wrist. Come check in with your mother, then you can come back and chat with your little brother, okay?

He pulled Sloane away. She paused but didn't resist. She only glanced over her shoulder at me. Little brother, Ill find you later.

My gaze dropped from their clasped hands. I responded softly, Okay.

Sloane never came back for me. The gala ended.

Noah had too much to drink and pleaded with Camille to take him to an observatory to see the stars. Camille agreed.

I sat quietly alone in the back seat of the car.

I stared out at the city streetsthe rush of traffic, the blinking neon. My mind was empty.

Then Camis final diary entry floated back into my thoughts: I only ever wanted to hold you.

What did it feel like to be held? I didn't know.

After my mother divorced my father and married into the Albright family, she never once embraced me. As a child, she wanted me to win the affection of Sloane and her mother. After I married, she wanted me to win Camille's affection.

But I never won anyone's affection.

My stepsister, Sloane, was a dazzling, self-possessed princess, always surrounded by adoration. Even when she secretly brought me food after my mother locked me away, her gaze was always polite, detached. Her kindness was universal, shared equally with everyone.

An embrace between us was impossible.

As for my wife...

I lowered my gaze.

My marriage to Camille should have ended long ago.

As soon as I got home, I contacted my lawyer and asked him to draft the divorce papers immediately.

It was late, deep into the night, when Sloane finally called.

Little brother.

There was a silence on the line. She didn't apologize for disappearing. She simply said:

My parents are picking out a man for me to marry. Do you want to give me your opinion?

I was stunned. ...What?

Her voice was laced with a weary resignation. Ive reached the legal age. Theres no avoiding it.

It doesnt matter who I marry, anyway. She sounded careless. It might be that man you saw tonight.

I struggled to respond. Is that so Do you do you like him? I hesitated before asking.

Like? Sloanes voice was light, airy. Then she dropped to a near-whisper. I dont know.

I pressed her. Do you want to get married?

She let out a soft sigh. Its not about wanting or not wanting. Im sure Ill grow to love him, living together.

Listening to her speak, I clenched my fists inside my pockets.

If not him, itll be someone else. But two people leaning on each other... that seems nice, doesnt it? Sloane said, her tone utterly calm.

I desperately wanted to speak, but the words choked in my throat. I felt a profound sadness.

The simple happiness she described was so far out of my reach. She was so far out of my reach.

Albert, she used my first name instead of 'little brother.' Well both be happy, wont we?

The question was spoken so softly.

Yet it sent a violent ripple through my heart.

Will I be happy?

I let out a shaky breath, finally making my decision.

We will, I said.

After hanging up, I placed the divorce papers the lawyer had sent into the study. Then, I dug out the handcuffs and ankle restraints I had bought weeks ago and packed them in a bag.

Sloanes last question had been the push I needed.

If it didn't matter who she ended up with, why couldn't it be me?

Perhaps that was the only way I could get closer to happiness.

I called Miles. That safe-house I asked you to prepare, the one with the secure basement. Is it fully ready?

After receiving his confirmation, I immediately texted Sloane:

[Where are you? Ill come to you now. We can discuss this whole marriage thing.]

Without a hint of suspicion, she sent me an address.

When I arrived, the address led to a private lounge.

I immediately asked a waiter for a bottle of high-proof whiskey.

Inside the VIP room, Sloane was alone. She was draped across a velvet sofa, long legs crossed, drinking straight from the bottle. That dazzling, commanding face was flushed pink.

She squinted when she saw me. Little brother. Her voice was low and husky.

I murmured an acknowledgment, then subtly opened the bottle Id brought and began to pour her a drink. When her attention was diverted, I sprinkled in a little something. I know youre upset. Ill keep you company.

Sloane gave a soft, muffled agreement.

Just then, the door was pushed open.

Noah stood in the doorway, his eyes wide in surprise. Ash, is that really you? I thought I saw you, but wasnt sure.

I glanced past him and saw Cami behind him. Her expression was still cold, her eyes sweeping over me and Sloane without a flicker of emotion.

I silently cursed. You two go on your date. Dont ruin my night.

Noah walked in, completely at ease. What a coincidence. Sis and I just finished stargazing and thought wed grab a drink here. Didnt expect to run into you guys.

I took a deep breath. ...Yeah. What a coincidence. I forced a laugh.

He spotted the bottle on the table and his eyes lit up. Ash! This is excellent whiskey. We have such similar taste!

He reached for a glass, about to pour himself a taste.

What?!

My eyes shot open. With lightning speed, I snatched the bottle from his hand.

And promptly downed a huge gulp myself.

Noah pouted. Ash, youre so stingy. Fine, Ill just have my sister order me something.

Camille actually sat down next to him. She looked at me, then gave him a curt nod. Alright.

For the next half-hour, I tried everything to get them to leave.

But neither Camille nor Noah would budge. Camille didn't even lift her eyelids. Noah let out a wounded sigh. Does me being here with my sister really bother you, Ash?

I gave up. I decided to leave while I could still walk.

But Sloane called out my name.

Her long, graceful fingers wrapped around my wrist. Little brother, you said youd keep me company.

Thirty minutes later.

I looked fuzzily at Sloane. She was staring back.

Noah was cheerfully pouring himself a drink, chatting with Cami.

I couldnt see Camis expression clearly.

I sighed heavily in my mind.

Then, unable to fight it, my eyes slid shut. My head fell to the side, and I passed out.

...

When I woke up, I painfully forced my eyelids open.

I stared blankly at the ceiling.

After a long minute, I instinctively tried to rub my eyes. My hand felt impossibly heavy.

I squinted.

The moment I made out the object on my wrist, I was instantly, violently awake.

...What the hell?

I tried to move my foot, and again, felt a crushing weight.

It was followed by the clear, sharp clink of a metal chain.

I lay rigid on the bed.

The door opened.

I recognized the person who walked in and my composure shattered. I was barely able to choke out the name: Why is it you?