Shattered

Chapter 50

5,200 words of unedited sh*t

Sheets. Sunlight. Shouting.

Shouting?

Somehow, it was as if I blinked, and morning had already arrived.

To make my unfair fate worse, it wasn't particularly a peaceful morning either. Chandler and I weren't the type for peaceful mornings, I suppose, whether it began with us fighting, me having nightmares, or him screaming into his phone from the other room. However, the latter was a first. He didn't take a tone like this with others often, at least not that I had heard, and he sounded angry, different from when he would yell at me.

Shamelessly, I turned away from the door and hid in the blanket, tucking it under my chin. The longer he stayed in the hallway arguing, the better it was for me. Well, maybe it wasn't so good, because the more time I had to think about what was to come, the more anxious I felt. A sharp pain struck in my stomach, as if a reminder of the dread, causing me to tuck my legs and lay on my side in a fetal position, groaning as a horrible wave of nausea passed.

It didn't stop, and as a distraction, I began focusing on my breathing, trying to distract myself from the pain repeatedly striking me again and again. After all the vomiting I did last night, I didn't understand how there was anything left in my stomach to even be nauseous over. If I ended up puking again, all it would be is nasty acidic bile, and truly, I did not want to go through that again.

"What the hell am I supposed to do?!"

The words weren't directed at me in the slightest, but his tone and volume made me flinch involuntarily. These results were inevitable, I already knew that, but witnessing my own body react this way made me feel like small cracks were forming all over me, and in time, they would crumble to little broken pieces. I'm not sure what I would do with myself then.

"They are your brothers, and you're asking me to try and fix this? I gave you the option to have control over the whole situation, and you said I should give it to that damned bitch, so now I'm dealing with the shit she caused, I have not one, but three crime lords at my throat, I'm still preparing for the takeover because it's not like I can just call my father and tell him 'hey dad, push back your retirement even further because now it looks like your son can't run his own fucking business and has an employee that's about to get her head exploded and another one going through a psychotic break', and on top of all that, you're asking me to solve your problem."

He's... he's very mad. Between my stomach pains and this, my attention was shifting so rapidly that I couldn't focus on anything, and all I heard were many angry words that sounded like bad things were happening, but I processed none of it. Something that stuck to me, however, was "employee that's about to get her head exploded," and I wondered who he was talking about, what she had done, and what exactly that meant. Regardless, head explosion in any context didn't sound great to me.

"Do not even fucking ask me about what is going on in my house and worry about what you're going to do."

What is going on in his house? I mean, besides all he already ranted about. He must have been referring to the fact that he possibly impregnated his very unwilling hostage and now neither of them knows how to comprehend the situation.

"Danielle Mercado, well, I should say Acero, I do not have the time to deal with all this right now, and from what I'm hearing, there is no urgent reason for me to help when they don't even know who you are, so in the meantime, you're going to do your job and help me regain control of this shithole disaster."

His voice lowered, beginning to reach a point where I could hardly hear his words without straining my ears, so I gave up on eavesdropping and instead forced myself off of the bed. Soon after Chandler had finished harassing me about the test last night, which I still didn't want to think about, I had fallen asleep, but only very lightly. This was unusual for me, because I normally wouldn't wake up to any sounds unless they were loud, and I had rarely woken up on my own while Chandler was getting ready for work.