After leaving Lakeview Villa, Annabelle Winters contacted a secretary from John Cookg’s office. Learning that he was meeting clients elsewhere, she headed straight for John Cookg’s house.
The gated community, with only nine villas, was especially quiet at this hour.
Olivia Young had warned her that John Cookg wasn’t as gentle and harmless as he appeared. It was all a facade. She’d said he had a ‘gift’ for her in his basement.
Annabelle Winters wasn’t sure what to expect, but the very word 'basement' sent a shiver down her spine.
John Cookg didn’t like people lingering in his house. The cleaners always left immediately after finishing up.
When Annabelle Winters entered, only Doudou was there, lazily napping. She tiptoed around, wandering for several minutes before she finally found the entrance to the basement.
Running her fingers along the wall, the lights flickered on.
Paintings hung from the walls. In one, a young girl knelt in a sunlit corner, feeding a cat. The girl in the painting was none other than herself.
She moved on. Another painting—the same girl, this time in her school uniform. And another, of her a little older.
By then, John Cookg had already left that place, so the images of her as an adult were all painted from his imagination.
Standing at the door, Annabelle Winters was nervous and uneasy, an inexplicable sense of dread pressing heavily on her chest.
Her mother had passed away. Her father was now in detention, awaiting trial. There was little left that she couldn’t handle.
She opened the door. The sight inside nearly made her legs give out.
A massive golden birdcage filled the room, with an elegant round bed set inside. Huge photos of her decorated the walls.
What was John Cookg thinking? Did he want to lock her up and keep her as his prized songbird?
Every step he’d taken—drawing her into his company, pulling her into his orbit—was all for this sick, twisted fantasy.
It felt surreal, almost like a dream.
How did Olivia Young know what his basement looked like?
Annabelle Winters didn’t have time to ponder it. She had only one thought: she had to quit.
She couldn’t leave Grace Gordon only to fall into John Cookg’s trap.
Bolting from the basement, Annabelle Winters rushed into the living room. Doudou came running to her as soon as she appeared, blissfully ignorant, thinking she’d come just for him. The little cat rubbed against her legs affectionately.
The cat was innocent in all this.
Scooping up Doudou, Annabelle Winters dashed out into the sunlight. Doudou’s golden fur sparkled in the sun’s rays. For a moment, it felt just like that night she’d left her hometown with her younger brother—freedom and determination.
She’d once been teased as a ‘stand-in,’ but she refused to become anyone’s caged bird, anyone’s trapped canary again.
Back home, she sat at her computer, Doudou in her lap, and emailed her resignation to HR.
She couldn’t let John Cookg discover she’d left because of what she’d seen in the basement. What should she do? What excuse should she use?
Ah!
“Doudou, was I too impulsive?”
But she had no choice—she refused to be caught.
Grabbing her phone, Annabelle Winters typed out a message to John Cookg. He knew she’d taken the day off to see Olivia Young, and had even arranged it for her.
[Annabelle Winters: President Huo, I swung by to see Doudou while I was out. I really adore him. Can he stay with me for a few days before I return him to you?]
‘Fat chance of giving him back!’ she thought. In her heart, Doudou was hers now.
Watching the security cam feed, John Cookg realized she’d discovered the secret. Very well... time to act early.
She pretended not to know; he’d play along.
[John Cookg: Of course. I’ll have Doudou’s supplies delivered to you.]
[Annabelle Winters: No need, I can buy what I need myself!]
[John Cookg: It’s no trouble.]
John Cookg’s lips curled into a sly smile. Little Wanwan would soon fall right into his arms.
At 2 p.m., the doorbell rang.
Holding Doudou, Annabelle Winters peeked through the peephole. It was a female secretary from the office, arms full of cat food and supplies.
She opened the door—only for the secretary to be shoved aside as John Cookg’s face suddenly loomed close.
“Wanwan, hello,” he greeted her, grinning with a sly, almost mischievous charm.
For a flash, she saw herself again, locked in that golden cage.
She tried to run, but John Cookg grabbed her wrist instantly.
“Doudou needs a big villa to stay in. Wanwan, stay with him, won’t you?”
“I’m not going!”
John Cookg just smiled, his tall figure crowding her space. Annabelle Winters felt the weight of his presence pressing down on her.
“Meow~”
Suddenly, Doudou dashed from her arms, yowling at John Cookg and latching onto him, biting.
John Cookg grabbed Doudou by the scruff of his neck. “Little rascal, I give you the best food and treats, and you bite me? Can’t even raise you right.”
He looked at Annabelle Winters. “Wanwan, you’re not like him, are you?”
Doudou screeched, clawing wildly.
Annabelle Winters’s mind buzzed; everything turned blurry, and then she lost consciousness altogether.
When she woke up, she was trapped inside the golden cage she’d seen that morning.
She was numb.
She’d thought lunatic characters like this only existed in novels. Never did she expect to meet one in real life.
John Cookg entered, carrying dinner with the elegance of an aristocrat. “Wanwan, come eat.”
“John Cookg, if you like me, you can court me. You can confess. But this—this, I can’t accept.” She jabbed her finger at the bars above her. “My family’s just been through so much—and now you lock me up? Are you trying to make me as crazy as you?”
John Cookg set the dinner down, opened the cage and sat at the edge of the bed.
“Wanwan, please don’t talk to me like that. Don’t use that cold, distant tone,” he pleaded, his eyes shining with unshed tears, lowering himself humbly. “You’re all I have. Please, don’t leave me.”
What kind of act was this now?
Olivia Young had told her that John Cookg was a master of pretending. Gentle one minute, pitiful the next.
He’d done wrong, locked her up, and now was begging her?
“Sorry, I never liked you. I never considered being in a relationship with you.” Annabelle Winters pushed him away, her voice cold.
Tears hovered in John Cookg’s eyes. He put his hand on her shoulder. “You love Grace Gordon, but you know he only ever saw you as a stand-in for Olivia Young. They grew up together, childhood sweethearts. Even though Olivia Young is married now, Grace Gordon’s heart still belongs to her.”
“Wanwan, I don’t care! I don’t care what you had with him, not even that you had a child together. All I want is for you to stay by my side, from now on.”
His other hand drifted to her stomach. “We’ll have a child too.”
Annabelle Winters pushed his hand away. “John Cookg, don’t you get it? I don’t like you. And... I don’t like Grace Gordon anymore either.”
“Neither of you. I don’t want either of you!”
There were so many men in the world. She had countless choices. She didn’t have to pick between just these two.
Olivia Young had told her she had a choice. That morning, Annabelle Winters hadn’t believed it. Now, she did.
Neither John Cookg nor Grace Gordon truly loved her. Both of them had something seriously wrong with their heads!
John Cookg’s eyes reddened. He forced her onto the bed, breathing hard, his lips almost touching hers—when suddenly, there was a commotion outside.