Chapter 39 39
Sofía woke with a soft sigh.
Then her eyes flew open.
The bed beneath her was far too soft.
For a second, confusion clouded her mind until realization struck.
Last night.
Everything came rushing back like a violent wave.
Her body tensed instantly.
Carefully, she slid off the bed and limped toward the dressing table.
The mirror reflected a face she barely recognized.
The clear imprint of the slap had faded, but the swelling remained, along with a faint bluish hue around her cheek.
A thin dried streak of blood traced down her lower lip.
Another marked her forehead.
Her ankle was horribly swollen puffed up almost double its normal size.
Slowly, she lifted the oversized shirt she was wearing and stared at the claw-like scratches along her ribs.
At least these wounds would heal.
They wouldn’t leave permanent scars…
Not like that one.
A heavy breath escaped her.
She made her way into the bathroom and completed her morning routine.
Everything inside looked untouched new toiletries, neatly arranged, still sealed.
It was definitely a guest room.
After unlocking the door, she returned to the bed and sat quietly.
10:00 a.m.
He was probably already at work.
She waited a while longer.
But she couldn’t sit there all day.
Her stomach growled.
Last night she’d barely eaten anything but fruit.
Finally deciding to leave the room, she stepped into the silent hallway.
The house was eerily quiet.
With great effort, she limped down the stairs, each step sending a dull ache through her ankle.
Once downstairs, she wandered into the lounge.
To the left sat a dining table meaning the kitchen had to be nearby.
She followed her guess and soon found it.
The silence confirmed he wasn’t home.
Relief washed over her.
On the island counter sat a single covered plate.
A small note rested on top.
She shuffled closer and read it.
Eat all of this, then take your medicines.
Lifting the lid, she found pancakes drizzled with Nutella.
She preferred strawberry syrup…
But this would do.
She sat and ate quietly.
A glass of orange juice waited beside the plate.
After finishing, she swallowed the medicine he’d left for her, washed the dishes, and returned to the guest room.
Hours passed.
She sat there doing absolutely nothing.
Bored out of her mind.
She didn’t even have her phone.
Alfonso must’ve been worried sick.
Two days without hearing from her…
The thought gnawed at her.
Her mind wandered endlessly until sleep claimed her again.
When she woke up, the sky outside had darkened.
Evening already.
Why was she sleeping so heavily?
Probably the medicine.
She yawned loudly
A sudden knock startled her.
Before she could react, the door opened.
There stood Mr. Ruiz.
Still dressed in his professor’s clothes.
A crisp white button-down tucked into dark gray dress pants.
No tie.
His hair slightly messy.
Sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscular tattooed arms.
The first two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing more ink and the wolf pendant resting against his chest.
Everything about him radiated dominance.
Danger.
Power.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his deep voice calm but heavy.
She hadn’t even looked at his eyes yet…
And she was already affected by his presence.
“F-fine,” she whispered.
He didn’t reply.
But she felt his intense gaze sweep over her.
“T-thank you for the breakfast,” she added softly.
Instead of answering, he tossed her bag onto the couch.
It must’ve been left in his office.
She stood quickly then instantly became aware of her bare legs.
His shorts barely reached her knees.
Limping over, she dug into her bag.
Her phone.
She needed to call Alfonso.
That was all she could think about.
“Looking for this?”
Her head snapped up.
Her phone was in his large hand.
Confusion washed over her.
Why did he have it?
Had he gone through her things?
“Yes,” she said, stepping forward.
But he casually slid it into his pocket.
The motion alone froze her.
“W-what?”
“It was ringing nonstop,” he said flatly. “Your best friend was worried. I told him you’re safe with me.”
Her jaw dropped.
That would only make Alfonso more anxious.
“I-I need to talk to him,” she said quietly. “C-can I have my phone back?”
The fact that he’d answered it and was now keeping it made her chest tighten.
It felt like control.
“I already told him you’re fine.”
His tone was cold.
She finally dared to glance at his eyes.
They were dark.
Angry.
“O-okay… but I still need my phone,” she said, trying to sound brave.
His mood wasn’t her fault.
She hadn’t done anything wrong.
“No.”
One word.
Ice-cold.
Fear instantly crawled up her spine.
And then he started walking toward her.
Slow.
Predatory.
Her body stiffened.
“W-why?” she blurted.
“Tell me something, Ana,” he said harshly.
The nickname alone told her she was in trouble.
She limped backward as he advanced.
“W-what?” she stammered, staring at his approaching feet.
“Where’s your grandpa?”
The question sounded simple.
But his voice wasn’t.
Her throat closed.
Her breathing turned shallow.
Suddenly words abandoned her.
A sharp breath left her lips.
He knew.
The truth was out.