Chapter 21

Rosella....

I hug the soft blanket closer to my body and curl up in a small ball. Recent events keep flashing in front of my inner eyes. Though my arms are tightly wrapped around my body, I haven't stopped shuddering in the aftermath of the strongest orgasm of my life.

Whenever I shift, the wet tenderness of my vagina reminds me of what he had done to me.

He hardly touched me or provided any stimulation, but I came anyway. The close proximity of his body, his heady scent and those dirty words…. They were enough to push me over the edge. And the pain from my unexpected periods had only made the spiralling sensations more intense and unbearable.

I'm still in a state of frozen shock.

I don't even remember what I told the gynecologist, Dr. Rita Singh, when she came in to check on me. I was surprised to see her, though it wasn't enough to break me out of my guilty thoughts. But I remember her reaction clearly, when I told her that I'm protected.

She had looked really pale, all the blood had drained from her face. She did a complete check up of my body and told me that I shouldn't have got the hormonal IUD at such an early stage. The spottings were its results only.

She also asked me a few private questions like…. If I had sex with anyone after getting the birth control device and if I had, then how it felt like. At first, I was indecisive but the doc kept prodding me with more personal questions.

I thought she was a doctor and she was here for my benefit. So, I told her the truth. I told her that I didn't have sex, infact I never had sex. The birth control was only for my periods. I used to have late night shifts every working day and with my painful periods, it was just too much for me to keep standing for that long.

That reply brought the colour back in her face and she smiled sympathetically. Then she asked if the pain was usual.

Well, it wasn't and I told her so. She nodded, tapping her fingers on her thighs as she absorbed the information I had provided.

At last, she wasn't sure about what it was and needed me to come and see her in the hospital. Her best guess was that the pain was due to some internal injury. She asked me if I had been in any accident or if I had worked out too hard, anytime soon. But as expected my answer was no. (Huh, I'm not even allowed to put the tampons in by myself, going out for work outs was still a far cry.)

Sighing heavily, I close my eyes and push away all those thoughts.

Because that formal interaction reminded me that I didn't have a normal conversation in what it feels like forever.

I feel like crying my eyes out.

I grab the pillow from beside me and cover my face with it. I scream in the pillow loudly to help with my frustration but it only heightens. After spending the longest and most eventful evening of my life, I'm still restless and too tied up to go to sleep.

Dr. Singh had given me some kind of injection to numb the shearing pain in my abdomen. Thankfully, it worked. There is no pain now, just the discomfort of the tampon lodged deep inside my channel.

I groan again and sit up, just as my stomach grumbles hungrily.

I throw the blanket away then swing my feet out of the bed to get up. Then I realise I'm naked. Crap! I look around for something to cover my nudeness with and pick up the blanket when I couldn't find anything.

On my tiptoes, I sneak to the door and look around cautiously before grabbing the knob. Maybe I can sneak in the kitchen and grab some edibles to feed my empty stomach. It feels like forever since the last time I had eaten a proper meal.

But I pause with my hand on the knob when I hear the sound of heavy footsteps. Is it him?

I jump away from the door and rush back to the bed. With the blanket still wrapped around my body, I lay down on the bed and pretend I'm fast asleep.

After a brief pause, I hear the dreadful sound of the door cracking open. I wait to hear his footsteps but a minute goes by and there's nothing. I turn on my side and glance at the door to find it ajar.

Where is he?

With my heart hammering inside my chest, I get out of the bed and pad down to the door. I poke my head outside and glance down the long corridor to find no trace of him.

I straighten up, frowning. Where did he go? And why is the door wide open?

I debate between going out to look for him or wait for him to get me on his own. But before I can make any choice, I feel warmth on my back and freeze.

“You're really bad at pretending, esclave. You were shaking all over when I entered the room and looked at you.” He tells me, quietly and my heart pumps faster.

So he had entered my room instead of leaving. I gulp. I didn't even realize. I guess he knew that I was up to something and that's why he had deliberately stomped his feet…. To scare me back. Crap.

“I wasn't pretending. I was just trying to sleep.” I stutter, nervously. Is he going to hurt me now?

“Don't lie to me.” He warns, his hot breath now blowing on my hair tendrils. “And where do you think you were going?”

My fingers clutch the soft material of the blanket in a death grip as I lick my dry lips. “I wasn't going to run away.”

“Hmm, you made the right decision.” He mumbles then trances a strange pattern on my bare shoulder with his finger. “But I wouldn't have let you anyway.”

My breathing shallows upon hearing his confession. His finger slowly makes its way towards my neck and pulls back my hair to expose my neck a little more.

If my hunch is right then it's the same finger he had shoved inside my sex that's now sliding on my skin. Oh God…. My eyes slam shut as I take shuddering breaths. His touch seems innocent enough, but it isn't innocent for me…. Not after how much he has made me feel with his single finger.

“Why are you here?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

He pauses then drops his hand and steps around to face me. “I came here to talk to you about what Dr. Singh had said about your earlier situation.”

“Situation?” I frown then look up to meet his sparking bold eyes.

“Situation, condition, position, whatever you want to call it.” His lips twitch at the corners as he gazes down at me. His expression is still impassive.

“I didn't mean to say—”

“I know what you mean. I need to talk to you about something. Let's do it over dinner. I'm famished.” He cuts me off but this time I don't mind when he mentions food.

“Okay.” I concede without thinking and I think I see his edgy smile softens, just a little.

“Come. Everything is ready.” He offers me his hand and chuckles deeply when I stare at his open palm suspiciously.

“Why do you laugh at everything? That's ridiculous.” I mutter and put my hand in his, reluctantly.

His long fingers cage in my small hand. “When you've got no memories to recall and smile upon or any reason to be happy naturally, you have to look for humour in small things to keep smiling and pretend to stay happy just for the sake of.”

My eyebrows touch the skyline when I start to decipher the painful meaning behind his words, which are surprisingly accurate. There is no emotion in his features but his dark eyes are filled with an intensity that leaves me breathless.

I can't believe that I can actually relate to his sorrow.

I've lived in the kind of haunted darkness for the most of my life which only revolves around my guilt and regrets. I can't tell if he has really experienced it all or he's just dropping off a line to distract me from his true image to paint another one in my mind.

I don't make further comments and neither does he. But I break away the eye contact first.

He clenches my hand like he's never going to let go and leads me out of the room. We make our way down the corridor and the main hall, passing a spiralling set of stairs before walking in the kitchen. He takes me to a dining table and tells me to take a seat. I sit on the head of the table.

I watch him move around in the kitchen as he collects some pairs of utensils and carries them over to the table. I had thought it would be odd to see a man, such as him, fumbling around with dishes behind the kitchen counter. But surprisingly, it seems like he knows what he's doing. He ought to have done this before. Only a few people, who are foodies, look this comfortable and relaxed in the kitchen.

Subconsciously, My eyes roam down his tall frame, taking in his intensely coiled muscles that flex every time he moves. He's really good looking, rugged and manly. He actually oozes out sexuality and warmth but he's nothing but a frozen-hearted monster.

I keep forgetting that part. And I know why.

I've never seen a man like him. I thought a man like him only existed in Erotica novels where the bad guy steals away the good girl and shows her his dark side. And even after knowing he's not good for her, she falls for him.

I used to wonder if I would have fallen for someone like that if put in their shoes. I've got my answer now. Never.

I snap out of my muses when he returns with everything. He sets me up first then pauses before moving back behind the granite counter. “Do you like steak?”

I nod once.

“I've got chicken soup as well.”

“I don't care what you've got. I'm hungry. I'll eat whatever you've got.” I say then realise just how desperate I must have sounded. But I can't care less. I'm really starving.

He makes no comments though and quickly serves me before serving himself. But instead of sitting down to eat, he walks back to the kitchen.

After a moment, his eyes find me from across the counter and he frowns. “Why aren't you eating? Not feeling hungry anymore.”

“I am but you've started either. How can I?”

Something like surprise crosses his eyes as he blinks a few times and clears his throat. Slowly, he rounds the corner of the counter and comes to take a seat across from me. As soon as he starts digging in his food, I dive in too.

The food is delicious and I finish half of my steak in no time at all. I have to refrain myself from moaning out loud right now. I had no idea how hungry I was till I started eating now.

In between my fourth bite, I catch the amused eyes of my buyer who's still got a lot to finish on his plate. I blush and slow down a little to chew the contents of my mouth like a human.

“I'm sorry. I hadn't realised I'm so hungry.” I try to explain after washing down the food in my mouth with some water.

“Please don't stop on my behalf. It's endearing to watch you eat so heartily. You'll be surprised to know that you're the first female I've ever come across who has such a great appetite.” He says, his voice filled with admiration and singed with amusement.

“You should have kept them hungry for as long as me and their appetite would have tuned great as well.” I speak and stare right in his eyes. I want to know what he has to say about this now.

“Was Balthazar keeping you hungry?” He asks, the coldness of his voice dropping by degrees. His hands have tightened around his fork and knife and the sudden swing in his expressions is now scaring the crap out of me.

“No. He never kept me hungry.” I respond meekly. “Surprisingly.”

“What did you do to you in these seven days? Tell me everything. Did he abuse you anyway?”

I don't like this sudden shift in the conversation but I have no choice but to tell him. So, I tell him everything, leaving out what had happened back in New York, in my apartment.

There's no need for him to know about my past.

“Are the scars on your neck and arms from that injection?” He inquires in a sharp voice when I tell him about how Balthazar used to drug me to change my prisons.

“Yes. I know the scars look nasty. But I guess it's my fault only. I knew that fighting him was futile but I struggled anyway. He had to beat me to a pulp to properly inject me or have his men hold me down.” I say in a quiet voice and push around my food in the plate before taking the last bite.

When I look up, I find he has hardly eaten his steak. His plate is still half full. I inch my eyes up to his face and see that his electric blue eyes are ablaze with ferocity. I'm abashed. His jaws grind together, making such scary sounds that I'm forced to fist my blanket in my small hands.

“Did you ever see what he used to inject in your veins?” He asks me after a long time of seething silence. He sounds like he's back in control now but the murderous look on his face hasn't left yet.

“Yes. It was a greenish blue liquid and it worked really quick. I would go comatose for I don't know how long and in between the time I used to stay unconscious, I would not feel anything.”

“He wasn't giving you any normal drugs. He was sedating you with the drugs he uses on his men.”

I can't tell if he's telling me or informing himself.

“What do you mean? Will it harm me?” I ask, a little panicked.

“I don't know. But if he had given you that drug three times now, then you should have turned into one of them by now.” He says, forming his words slowly as his eyes scan me. “You seem well enough to me. Are you sure that was the colour of the fluid?”

“Yes. He had filled the injection in front of my eyes, the very first time. But after that, he didn't do that again.”

“He ought to have sensed that you hadn't changed in the first dose and you were still able to produce your own thoughts.”

The way he's talking to me, I'm getting a feeling like he's going to tell me something dreadful.

“Can you tell me what exactly the drug will do to me?” I push through the lump in my throat and get out with my fear.

He deliberates for a full minute, staring at me with conflict filled eye before finally breaking the heavy suspense. “I don't have much information about this as the drug is not natural. It's born in a lab, between complex chemicals. All I know is that Balthazar injects that self-made toxic drugs in his men to wipe out their memories and replace it with the ones he wants them to have. He makes sure to show himself in every stage of their animated life memories while restoring them in their head to make himself the only familiar figure for them. It gives him full control over their senses and they do as he says without any hesitation.”

“In only two doses of this drug, a person can lose his senses and forget everything. Because the drugs will directly attack the brain and destroy the emotional processing. The injected person will feel like his mind is filled with clouds and will always struggle with creating his own thoughts. He will be able to see things but he won't be able to recognize them. He won't be able to even sleep without Balthazar's permission.”

“That's why Balthazar's men don't even blink without his instructions.” I mutter as every weird thing that I had noticed in Balthazar's captivity starts making sense, all of a sudden.

“Yes.” Adrian nods his head once as he rests his elbows on the table with a sinister smile on his face. “He wanted to control you as well. And if I am right then that's the reason why he let you go so easily.”

“Because he knew.” Realization hits me right in the gut. I look up to meet the knowing eyes of Adrian. “....Balthazar knew that if he wanted then he could call me back any time if he had that control over me.”

“That's the most likely explanation for him to give you those drugs.” He stares at me with a thoughtful look on his face.

His eyes darken as he licks his lips then opens his mouth to say something. But changes his mind and shakes his head, trying to hide the twitching of his lips.

I narrow my eyes at him with suspicion. “You were going to say something. Say it.”

“I don't think you want to hear it. I'm not even sure.” He says something else but his dancing eyes tell me something else. It's almost like he's daring me, questioning my self-control, which means whatever he was going to say, it would have elicited a deep reaction out of me.

I cross my arms over my chest, not sure about what I'm going to do then stick out my chin in acceptance of the challenge. “Tell me. I'll decide afterwards if I would have wanted to hear it or not.”

“As you wish, my pearl.” He whispers darkly and a shudder runs down my spine, my mouth turns dry.

His dark and intense eyes come to rest on my flickering ones and stare right through me. Maintaining the eye contact, he pushes his plate aside to lean forward. I lean back in my chair instinctively as he clasps his hands in front of him, down on the table.

“I don't think the drugs have worked on you, yet.”

“Why? Because I'm still able to form my own words?” I ask and arch an eyebrow.

He flashes me a heart-stopping smile, his bold blue eyes sparkling with delight and dark pleasure.

“Yes. That and the fact that you came on my finger when I was just plugging your tight little pussy with a fucking tampon.”