My Prison
Rocco and I followed the overly large corridor and came to the foot of the stairs. We climbed the stairs quietly. He kept mute all through while I hung my head low, tired and withdrawn.
We made it through the double rows of stairs and came to a closed door. Rocco placed his thumb in a scanner placed beside the wall and the door clicked open. When he closed it behind me, he tried to flash a smile but decided against it. Maybe because It didn’t seem like I was interested.
“The door is bulletproof,” he told me. But I didn’t respond.
We passed through a quiet smaller short corridor and came to another closed door. He punched a couple of numbers and just like the other one, the door opened up again and we stepped into the most lovely sitting room I’ve ever set my eyes on.
I don’t know what I thought the home of a man like Hollis would be like. But this was definitely the real definition of wealthy. It was homey. I guess I thought a man like him would be all about that awful, industrial look. But no, the whole space felt warm and inviting, a bit masculine, but not in an oppressive way.
The living room was connected to a kitchen and a large, pine-colored dining table. It had brown leather furniture, the soft kind that seemed to form around your body as you sunk into it. There was a fireplace made of stones stacked to the high ceiling, with an oversized flat screen television that hung above its mantel. A gigantic kitchen separated the living room from the dining table. it had two of almost every appliance. Two restaurant-sized refrigerators, two microwaves, two toasters, two dishwashers, but only one oven. And the dining table looked big enough to seat ten people.
My eyes drafted round the room all at once and later settled on the closed door at the end of the room. The bedroom, I figured. And there was only one.
I tried not to focus on that, It wouldn’t do me any good. I focused on the space instead. It was huge. Windows lined the whole front of the building, letting in a fair amount of light, but there was some kind of film on them that didn’t let it come in completely. I moved closer towards the kitchen to appreciate the beautiful work of whomever is the interior designer. I loved to eat, but I could offer only the barest minimum when it comes to cooking. Let’s say my cooking skills need some honing.Original from NôvelDrama.Org.
The thought of cooking for Hollis came to my mind and I laughed at how hideous the plan was. He would end up vomiting his intestines. I was that girl that was always busy learning stuff with Daddy that I barely had time to visit the kitchen and my mother was that woman that didn’t give a fucking fuck If I knew how to cook or not.
Her motto has always been, focus on your damn academics and make us proud. When the time comes, hire a goddamn cook or you come home and learn from me. Pathetic!
“You’re free to roam around,” Rocco said, “It’s yours now too,” he added, and his words were like a kick to the stomach.
It was mine now. Because I would never see my own apartment for the next couple of months. Okay, admittedly, this one was much nicer than mine, but mine wasn’t so bad and it was full of the love I’d put into it. It was my safe space, the one place in the world I could go to when everything felt like it was falling apart, all I had to do was bundle under the covers and recover.
I was not going to that for a very long while. This would be my home for now. This magnificent looking apartment was owned by a man who had somehow conned me into agreeing to live under the same roof with him for a specific number of days.
A pathetic whimpering sound rose up my throat. My gaze shot over toward Rocco, not wanting him to hear if I was about to have another weak, emotional moment. I opened my mouth to say something to him about exploring every part of the house before I remembered his words. ‘This was mine now.’ I didn’t need to explain myself to him.
Squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin, even if my insides felt like they were shaking. I made my way across the apartment toward the closed door that led to what I assumed was the bedroom. It wasn’t that I wanted to be in Hollis’s bedroom. In fact, it was the last place I wanted to be.
But it was the only place I could escape for a little while. I needed to get myself together. I might have been stuck in an impossible situation, but I was not going to let Hollis see that he was getting the better of me. I needed to wash my face. I needed to give myself a pep talk. And then I slip behind a shield of cold indifference.
It was the only way I was going to make it through today and maybe every other day.
The door to Hollis’s bedroom stared steadily at me, there was a moment of hesitation as I reached toward the handle, The knob turned in my hand, and I felt a trip in my heartbeat as I pushed it open. Some twisted depth of my mind had me wondering if this was going to turn into some cheesy erotic fiction movie, and I was going to walk into a sex dungeon complete with whips and chains.
‘Imaginations.’
But I simply walked into a bedroom. The bed was big, too big, a kingsized four-poster bed that was placed against the wall nearest to the door.
The room had its floor-to-ceiling windows, it had that same openness as the living room, but the walls here were much darker, with mahogany-stained wood panels up to my shoulders and dark gray paint up to the high ceiling. Again, the room had a masculine touch.
I took a few steps inside to assess my new prison. It was nice, cozy, with no metal bars.
The sight of leftover bottle water placed on a nightstand indicated the part of the bed Hollis sleeps in. A gorgeous looking wristwatch was left beside the bottle of water, close to the edge of the nightstand that It felt like It would fall and shatter into pieces pretty soon if I don’t push it back in. I wanted to push it in, but at the same time, the evil-petty genie in me didn’t want me to. Why should I care if his fancy wrist watch gets ruined. I wasn’t the one that kept it there, was I?”
I wasn’t even supposed to be helping the man who’s trying so hard to lord over me. I should be walking round the house causing chaos upon chaos until he decides that the best thing to do would be to let me go.
But I couldn’t do all of that, such actions might put my loved ones in danger if Hollis decides to start threatening me with my family. There was no need pushing the man to the wall. He might resort to the unthinkable.
“At least my prison is a little haven,” I mumbled to myself.