CHAPTER THIRTY
When I awaken again, I find myself alone in the room. Bright sunlight streams through the expansive, clear windows while several plants cheerfully bloom on the windowsill. The space actually feels quite cozy.
Had it not been for the unmistakable hospital scent and the assortment of machines and monitors, I might have believed I was in someone’s private bedroom.
This private clinic is undeniably luxurious—a detail I hadn’t truly had the chance to appreciate until now.
The door opens, and Aria enters. Flashing a broad smile, she cheerfully asks, "How are you feeling, Ella?"
"Okay," I reply, a bit guarded. "Where is Lucifer?" There’s something about this woman that unsettles me, though I can’t quite pinpoint what it is.
I know she might be my best opportunity to escape, yet I’m unsure if I can trust her. After all, she could very well be in Lucifer’s employ, just like Daphne.
"Mr. Esguerra had to leave for a couple of hours," she explains, still smiling. "Daphne is here, though—she just went to the restroom."
"Oh, good." I study her, gathering my courage. I must tell her that I’ve been kidnapped.
I simply have to. This is my one chance at freedom. She might be loyal to Lucifer, but I need to try, for I may never get a better opportunity.
Aria steps up to the bed and hands me a cup with a bent straw. "Here you go," she says in that same bright tone. "I’ll bring you some food shortly."
I lift my arm to take the cup, wincing slightly as the movement tugs at my stitches. "Thanks," I say, greedily gulping down the water. I desperately need to ask her to call the police—or whatever the local law enforcement is called—but somehow, I don’t.
Instead, I drink the water and watch as she exits the room, leaving me alone once more.
I groan inwardly. What is wrong with me? Freedom is finally within reach after over a year, and here I am, hesitating and procrastinating.
I convince myself that my hesitation comes from caution—a desire not to risk hurting anyone, not Aria and certainly not anyone back home—but deep down, I know the truth.
Although freedom appears enticing, it is equally terrifying. I have been a captive for so long that I even long for the familiarity of my cage; being in this strange room fills me with stress and anxiety, and a part of me yearns to return to the island and my old routine.
Yet, most importantly, freedom means leaving Lucifer—and I cannot bring myself to do that.
I refuse to leave the man who kidnapped me.
I should be celebrating the thought of the police coming to arrest him, but instead, I feel horrified. I do not want Lucifer behind bars. I cannot bear being separated from him, not even for a minute.
Closing my eyes, I admit to myself that I am a fool—a brainwashed idiot—but it matters little.
Lying there in that hospital bed, I accept that I am no longer an unwilling captive. Instead, I am simply a woman who belongs to Lucifer, just as he now belongs to me.
I recuperate in the clinic for the next week. Lucifer visits me every day, spending several hours by my side, and so does Daphne.
Aria tends to me most of the time, though a couple of doctors have stopped by to review my charts and adjust my painkiller dosage.
I still have not told anyone that I was kidnapped, nor do I plan to anymore. For one thing, I sense that the clinic staff are paid to remain discreet.
No one appears even remotely curious about what an American girl is doing in the Philippines, nor are they inclined to question me in any way.
The only things Aria ever asks are whether I’m in pain, thirsty, hungry, or need to use the bathroom. I’m fairly certain that if I begged her to call the police, she would simply smile and give me more painkillers instead.
I’ve also noticed several guards stationed in the hallway outside my room. I catch glimpses of them whenever the door opens. Heavily armed and exuding an air of intimidation, they remind me of the brute who attacked Jake.
When I bring them up to Lucifer, he doesn’t hesitate to admit that they work for him. “They’re here for your protection,” he says, settling on the edge of my bed. “I told you I have enemies, didn’t I?”
He had mentioned it before, but I hadn’t fully grasped the magnitude of the danger until now.
According to Daphne, a small army of bodyguards is stationed in and around the clinic, shielding us from whatever threat Lucifer fears.
“What enemies?” I ask, studying him curiously. “Who’s after you?”
His lips curve into a smile. “That’s not something you need to worry about, my pet,” he replies gently, though beneath the warmth of his expression lurks something cold and dangerous. “I’ll take care of them soon.”
A faint shiver runs through me, and I hope he doesn’t notice. There are moments when my lover is truly terrifying.
“We’re going home tomorrow,” he announces, shifting the conversation. “The doctors said you’ll need to take it easy for a few weeks, but there’s no reason for you to stay here. You can recover just as well at home.”
I nod, my stomach twisting with a conflicting mix of dread and anticipation. Home… back to the island. This brief interlude at the clinic—so close to freedom—is nearly at its end.
Tomorrow, my real life resumes.