36.

I walked around the entire office looking for a loose board, gradually getting more irritated as I realized there wasn't one. None!

With my breathing quickening, I scanned the entire office, trying to imagine where Klaus's newest hiding spot for drugs might be, as he hadn't made it clear when he took the rest of the drugs he was consuming.

It felt like my last hope of getting rid of what I was feeling was going down the drain when I saw the drugs in his hand, and he silently moved away.

That night, when I lay down pretending to be tired and going to sleep, the restlessness increased, along with all the symptoms, which made me anxiously wait until Klaus was in a deep sleep.

Without a second thought, I ran to the office, even though I doubted he would leave the drugs in the same place. And only then did I realize that I should have listened to my gut feeling.

I began to open and close the desk drawers again, looking for a hidden compartment or a small stash he might have for personal use. I moved to the small cabinet in the corner, restraining the urge to throw everything on the floor out of sheer desperation.

I knew there was drugs somewhere in that house. I knew it! None of his men had left with anything in their hands, which meant it was there. I just needed to find out where...

I stepped away from the furniture, pressing my head with both hands, suppressing a scream filled with pain, anguish, and above all, despair with all my might.

I needed to make it stop. Rafael's death, the death of a baby I hadn't even had a chance to discover inside me... I was sure I had reached my limit, and this was it.

My heart stopped for a moment when I noticed a figure almost the size of the door standing there, looking at me from the waist up.

"It's not here," he suddenly said, his voice devoid of emotion.

I swallowed hard, quickly recovering from the shock.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I mumbled.

"I didn't want to accuse you without being sure; I needed something to prove me wrong," he continued as if he hadn't told me anything. "I didn't want to believe it was you, that you were destroying yourself right in front of me, and I wasn't noticing," he said, his expression becoming distressed. "You were dying every day, and if I hadn't realized that there was a shortage of drugs, I would have found you dead."

I shrugged, refusing to be moved by his words.

"And then your revenge plan would have gone down the drain," I said sarcastically, seeing no change in his expression.

"I'm not talking about revenge, Hailey," he raised his voice, showing irritation. "I'M TALKING ABOUT YOU! What you're doing to yourself."

"Nothing worse than what you've done to me, Klaus," I tilted my head to the side. "You took me straight to hell. You became my tormentor, took pleasure in seeing the pain and suffering on my face," I kept my eyebrows furrowed and my eyes moist. "You opened so many wounds in me, more than I already had, because I didn't expect you to do a third of what you did to me just for the sake of revenge. To ease the pain you've felt all these years," I ranted, feeling the need to let out everything that had been suffocating me daily. "You're not the only one suffering in the world. I feel pain too! I'm a human being just like you!"

He shook his head slightly, his eyes even more watery.

"I will heal you," he whispered.

"I don't want you to heal me," I said slowly, not lowering my voice, making it clear to him that I wouldn't let myself be intimidated or dominated anymore.

He swallowed hard, cautiously approaching me.

"I need to do this for you, just like they did it for me," he said, frowning as he approached me.

"Stay away from me," I growled, trying to avoid his hands in vain. "Klaus, get your hands off me! Let me go!" I screamed as he held me tightly against his body, immobilizing me.

I struggled against his embrace, shaking my head from side to side, trying to hit his nose and failing miserably. Klaus walked, holding me in that way, out of the office, patiently, even stopping a few times as we climbed the stairs. When I felt like I was about to break free, he squeezed me harder.

"Get your hands off me!" I continued growling, trying to bite his arm, receiving only a tighter "hug" in response.

Klaus kept walking until he entered his room and, without warning, threw me into the middle of the room. My knees hit the floor hard, and my hands stung when I tried to lessen the impact.

I looked back as he held my gaze.

"No..." I said, getting up quickly, unable to reach him in time to prevent him from closing the door. "Klaus!" I yelled, banging on the door, alternating with kicks. "Open this door! Klaus!"

I stared at the closed door, hoping he would open it and stop this tasteless game. But nothing happened for the next few seconds, only silence, my heavy breathing, and my heart beating completely out of rhythm.

I lay down on the floor, trying to look from below, realizing that Klaus was there.

"Klaus," I said, getting up again, pressing my hands against the door, breathing through my mouth. "Klaus, open the door," I whimpered. "Just open it. I don't want to stay in here alone like this." Not like this; maybe after he gave me what I wanted, I could stay. Klaus remained silent, which only increased my irritation. I moved away from the door, going to the window, realizing that it wouldn't open, no matter how much force I applied; there was something there preventing it from opening.

"No!" I shouted, banging on the glass, only managing to hurt my hand.

I stared at the dark room, feeling the irritation bubbling inside me, which made me start destroying everything in my mind. Klaus would open that door, one way or another.

I believed that rehabilitation would be my escape from Klaus, convinced it would be a breeze. I didn't expect to go through such a destructive process to get myself back.

"I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die," I repeated, curled up in a corner, feeling a real turmoil inside me. It was my second day in that place, but it felt like I had been trapped there for years. "I want to get out of here!" None of them did anything to alleviate all these new symptoms I was feeling; they just kept saying that I would be fine soon and that I couldn't give up. None of them knew me. None of them knew the emotional burden I had to carry every day. They couldn't expect me to simply get "better" overnight.

And it really didn't seem like I would get better overnight; the impression I had was that I was getting worse. I couldn't see the improvement they claimed to see.

Despite

all this, they wouldn't let me go, believing that the treatment was working, and that I would be discharged in a few days, even though I knew deep down that it would take a while before I could return to my life, if I even had one left.

I didn't want to go through it all again, alone once more. I wouldn't be able to. It would be better if Klaus just threw the key to that room and forgot about me once and for all, turning that room into my tomb.

"Klaus!!!" I yelled as loudly as I could until I lost my breath. "I HATE YOU, AND I WANT YOU TO BURN IN HELL!" The only thing Klaus would have from me, until my last breath, was my hatred for him. Nothing more. I would hate him until the end of my life and then haunt him to death. I would be vengeful even after my death and make him bitterly regret what he was trying to do to me.