Z A R A
"Frank, are you sure about this?" I can't close my mouth. The theme of the room is dark tones, but the view... let me tell you, if someone shot me right this very second in front of this window, I'd die a happy death.
"Yes," he answers. "Boss had someone fill up the closet for ya. There's food in the fridge or call the front desk if you need anything specific."
Clothes? Food? What exactly is Alejandro thinking? That he can buy me? If he keeps this up, he might, the humorous side of my brain tries to cope with the messed-up situation.
"Boss will have a set of separate rules for you, he will explain on his own time." Suddenly, Frank's expression darkens, "A note of advice, for everyone's good, do not disobey Boss' orders, neither should you stray from his rules. And I mean it when I say that this is for everyone's good."
I gulp. There wasn't a single hint of comfort in those words. He stated them as a threat and nothing more.
"I'll be on my way, lady. See ya around," he leaves quickly without waving or giving me a chance to say anything. I decide a shower should make everything a bit more bearable. I find the large walk-in closet, which, as Frank said, is filled with clothes that are my size and everything. Some of these articles of clothing are... questionable. But no matter, I should be grateful that I'm not stuck in a dark, windowless room with no food or water. I grab the black silk pajamas from the drawers dedicated strictly for pajamas.
That's when I find that drawer full of questionable clothes. It's lingerie but... there are some sets in here that are extremely seductive. I quickly grab a set that's the least flashy and run off to find the bathroom. Once I find the bathroom, I'm taken back again. The luxury never stops but then again, I am in a penthouse in the most expensive district of New York City.
I smell lavender because that was the only scented hair and body product provided.
Probably by Alejandro's request...
"Your body for a peaceful life for your family." The line sends shudders through me. I step out with my towel wrapped in my hair to take a seat in front of the window and this is when everything finally hits me.
As I look over at the city, the cluster of cars and people rushing to get to where they need to be, my heart clenches that I don't have that freedom anymore.
I can't rush back to my parents or Yasmeen. I don't have the means to do anything. I'm so weak, so powerless, such a coward.
I didn't break quietly... every atom and nerve in my body screamed in unison, traumatized by the idea that I'll be trapped here forever with someone who'll abuse my body and soul. My hysterical crying and screaming sobs terrified even me. I have never cried this hard, and neither has my heart hurt this much.
It was as if all the anxiety and pain I was holding in since this whole chaos started is now being released out of me. The world around me is blurring, just as the sun is setting and every bit of my strength going down along with the sun.
The sky darkens, as I looked out the window for God knows how many hours. I cried and stopped and cried; the cycle kept repeating until my body couldn't take it any longer.
I couldn't breathe from crying so much,
"W-what do I do?"
"There's nothing you can do, my love," a voice from the doorway makes her jump.
"Ale—" She stops herself.
A note of advice, for everyone's good, do not disobey Boss' orders, neither should you stray from his rules.
"Sir?" I quickly correct myself. "What are you doing here?" That was a stupid question. My room and the hallway were dark but the city lights were bright enough to illuminate Alejandro's frame enough.
He stood against my door frame with his arms crossed against his chest. He's still in his dark hoodie and sweats.
He looks just as handsome as ever, if not more. He chuckles softly, "You can call me by my name at home."
Is he back to the Alejandro from years ago?
No, don't fall for it, Zara. He takes slow steps toward me and I'm finally able to see him in full light. I quickly stand up, leaning against the cold glass of the window in fear of what he might do. He slowly raises up his hand to cup my cheek, gently brushing away the remaining tears. I snatch his hand away from my face. Though the expression was quick to fade, I saw a look of displeasure on his face.
I can't overpower him, I know that. The little self-defense I was taught can't help me in the slightest. He pushes me further against the glass in one swift motion. The aggressive action has quickly turned into an intimate one. As our bodies pressed close together, he leans in to rest his forehead on mine, our noses brushing past each other.
I try to shrug him off, my hands on his chest, pushing with all my strength but in reality, I'm putty in his grasp. I have no strength, none. I've imagined our reunion multiple times, each time was a sweet run-in. Maybe at a library? At a mall? At work? Coffee shop? Where we would sit and catch up until it was time to leave. But nothing like this, this is painful to even bear but I'm melting like butter in his hands anyways.
"What? Not happy to see me, my love?" His words are smooth, slipping out carelessly. His lips are upturned into a playfully wicked smirk. I look away as my lips quiver, feeling as if I'll break.
"Look at me," he ordered. But I can't—I can't look at him without feeling like I want to hold him. The thought disgusts me, I'm disgusted at myself but I can't help how I feel. He takes my chin with one hand and roughly forces me to meet his cold, grey gaze. My heartbeat's hitting my chest so hard that I thought my ribs were going to break from the immense pressure.
I can see him examining my whole body, suddenly I'm very conscious that I'm in silk pajamas with a town still wrapped around my hair.
But I take this opportunity to take him in, analyzing his look. He hasn't changed too much. He's gotten slightly more muscular, his face is still just as sculpted, his eyes are just as grey, and his smile just as terrifyingly beautiful. But somehow, it feels like he's gotten taller, maybe with broader shoulders. Or it may just be that he's more confident in the way he holds himself up now. Though he looks about the same as he did years ago, there's something that has completely changed. He's not the Alejandro I knew back in high school. I'm terrified of him now, so petrified that I can't meet his eyes without shivering in fear.
"Please let go of me," I whisper with every bit of courage left in me. My words make him grab my wrist in a crippling grip, making me wince. He looks angrier, and his eyes darken.
"Never," his voice is deeper, his breathing slowed. "Never will I let you go again."
He sounds like he stated that more to himself than he did to me. But no matter, those were frightening words to hear from the person that I need to convince to let me go.
Never? I gulp.
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